As August wore on, the square of unkempt grass in the middle of Grimmauld Place shriveled in the sun until it was brittle and brown. The inhabitants of number twelve were never seen by anybody in the surrounding houses, and nor was number twelve itself. The Muggles who lived in Grimmauld Place had long since accepted the amusing mistake in the numbering that had caused number eleven to sit beside number thirteen.
And yet the square was now attracting a trickle of visitors who seemed to find the anomaly most intriguing. Barely a day passed without one or two people arriving in Grimmauld Place with no other purpose, or so it seemed, than to lean against the railings facing numbers eleven and thirteen, watching the join between the two houses. The lurkers were never the same two days running, although they all seemed to share a dislike for normal clothing. Most of the Londoners who passed them were used to eccentric dressers and took little notice, though occasionally one of them might glance back, wondering why anyone would wear such long cloaks in this heat.
The watchers seemed to be gleaning little satisfaction from their vigil. Occasionally one of them started forward excitedly, as if they had seen something interesting at last, only to fall back looking disappointed.
On the first day of September there were more people lurking in the square than ever before. Half a dozen men in long cloaks stood silent and watchful, gazing as ever at houses eleven and thirteen, but the thing for which they were waiting still appeared elusive. As evening drew in, bringing with it an unexpected gust of chilly rain for the first time in weeks, there occurred one of those inexplicable moments when they appeared to have seen something interesting. The man with the twisted face pointed and his closest companion, a podgy, pallid man, started forward, but a moment later they had relaxed into their previous state of inactivity, looking frustrated and disappointed.
Meanwhile, inside number twelve, Harry had just entered the hall. He had nearly lost his balance as he Apparated onto the top step just outside the front door, and thought that the Death Eaters might have caught a glimpse of his momentarily exposed elbow. Shutting the front door carefully behind him, he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, draped it over his arm, and hurried along the gloomy hallway toward the door that led to the basement, a stolen copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in his hand.
The usual low whisper of "Severus Snape?" greeted him, the chill wind swept him, and his tongue rolled up for a moment.
"I didn't kill you." he said, once it had unrolled, then held his breath as the dusty jinx-figure exploded. He waited until he was halfway down the stairs to the kitchen, out of earshot of Mrs. Black and clear of the dust cloud, before calling. "I've got news, and you won't like it."
"Do we ever these days?" Y/n sighed, sat down at the table a note in hand.
The kitchen was almost unrecognizable. Every surface now shone, Copper pots and pans had been burnished to a rosy glow, the wooden tabletop gleamed, the goblets and plates already laid for dinner glinted in the light from a merrily blazing fire, on which a cauldron was simmering. Nothing in the room, however, was more dramatically different than the house-elf who now came hurrying toward Harry, dressed in a snowy-white towel, his ear hair as clean and fluffy as cotton wool, Regulus's locket bouncing on his thin chest.
"Shoes off, if you please, Master Harry, and hands washed before dinner." croaked Kreacher, seizing the Invisibility Cloak and slouching off to hang it on a hook on the wall, beside a number of old-fashioned robes that had been freshly laundered.
"What's happened?" Ron asked apprehensively. He, Y/n and Hermione had been poring over a sheaf of scribbled notes and hand-drawn maps that littered the end of the long kitchen table, but now they watched Harry as he strode toward them and threw down the newspaper on top of their scattered parchment.
A large picture of a familiar, hook-nosed, black-haired man stared up at them all, beneath a headline that read.
'SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER'
"No!" said Ron and Hermione loudly.
"Impossible..." Y/n said going to grab the paper but Hermione was quickest, she snatched up the newspaper and began to read the accompanying story out loud.
"'Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.'"
"'I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest Wizarding traditions and values...' Like committing murder and cutting off people's ears, I suppose! Snape, headmaster! Snape in Dumbledore's study...Merlin's pants!" she shrieked, making both Harry and Ron jump. She leapt up from the table and hurtled from the room, shouting as she went. "I'll be back in a minute!"
"'Merlin's pants'?" repeated Ron, looking amused. "She must be upset." Ron said as he pulled the newspaper toward him and perused the article about Snape. "The other teachers won't stand for this. McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout all know the truth, they know how Dumbledore died. They won't accept Snape as headmaster. And who are these Carrows?"
"Death Eaters." said Harry. "There are pictures of them inside. They were at the top of the tower when Snape killed Dumbledore, so it's all friends together." Harry said bitterly, drawing up a chair.
"You know what this means then, Voldemort is now basically in charge of Hogwarts too... The other teachers have not got any choice but to stay. If the Ministry and Voldemort are behind Snape it will be a choice between staying and teaching, or a nice few years in Azkaban...and that's if they are lucky. I like to think they will stay to try and protect the students. McGonagall and Flitwick will at least."
Kreacher came bustling to the table with a large tureen in his hands, and ladled out soup into pristine bowls, whistling between his teeth as he did so.
"Thank you Kreacher." Y/n said, though he still was not forgiving of the elf he kept his manners.
"Mr Grindelwald." Kreacher said respectfully.
"Thanks, Kreacher." said Harry as well now, flipping over the Prophet so as not to have to look at Snape's face. "Well, at least we know exactly where Snape is."
Y/n began to spoon soup into his mouth. The quality of Kreacher's cooking had improved dramatically ever since he had been given Regulus's locket, Today's French onion was as good as he had ever tasted.
"What is the situation outside?" Y/n asked Harry.
"There are still a load of Death Eaters watching the house." Harry told him and Ron as he ate. "More than usual. It's like they're hoping we'll march out carrying our school trunks and head off for the Hogwarts Express."
Ron glanced at his watch. "I've been thinking about that all day. It left nearly six hours ago. Weird, not being on it, isn't it?"
Y/n just hummed, but secretly he did miss Hogwarts more than he cared to admit.
"They nearly saw me coming back in just now." Harry said now. "I landed badly on the top step, and the Cloak slipped."
"I do that every time." Ron admitted.
"You two need to practice your apparation usage some more then I suggest." Y/n said.
"It's fine for you and Hermione...Oh, here she is," Ron added, craning around in his seat to watch Hermione reentering the kitchen. "And what in the name of Merlin's most baggyy Fronts was that about?"
"I remembered this." Hermione panted.
She was carrying a large, framed picture, which she now lowered to the floor before seizing her small, beaded bag from the kitchen sideboard. Opening it, she proceeded to force the painting inside, and despite the fact that it was patently too large to fit inside the tiny bag, within a few seconds it had vanished, like so much else, into the bag's capacious depths.
"Phineas Nigellus." Hermione explained as she threw the bag onto the kitchen table with the usual sonorous, clanking crash.
Y/n just paused his spoon midair as he quickly understood. The painted image of Phineas Nigellus Black was able to flit between his portrait in Grimmauld Place and the one that hung in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, the circular tower-top room where Snape was no doubt sitting right now, in triumphant possession of Dumbledore's collection of delicate, silver magical instruments, the stone Pensieve, the Sorting Hat and, unless it had been moved elsewhere, the sword of Gryffindor.
"Sorry?" Ron asked.
"Snape could send Phineas Nigellus to look inside this house for him." Hermione explained to Ron as she resumed her seat. "But let him try it now, all Phineas Nigellus will be able to see is the inside of my handbag."
"It is good we have not discussed anything too vital in this house so far." Y/n said lowering his spoon back into the bowl. "That was clever thinking Hermione." Y/n complimented her, even Ron, looking impressed.
"Thank you." smiled Hermione, pulling her soup toward her. "So, Harry, what else happened today?"
"Nothing." said Harry. "Watched the Ministry entrance for seven hours. No sign of her. Saw your dad, though, Ron. He looks fine."
Ron nodded his appreciation of this news. They had agreed that it was far too dangerous to try and communicate with Mr. Weasley while he walked in and out of the Ministry, because he was always surrounded by other Ministry workers. It was, however, reassuring to catch these glimpses of him, even if he did look very strained and anxious.
"Dad always told us most Ministry people use the Floo Network to get to work." Ron said. "That's why we haven't seen Umbridge, she'd never walk, she'd think she's too important."
"And what about that funny old witch, The grumpy middle aged man and that little wizard in the navy robes?" Hermione asked.
"Oh yeah, the bloke from Magical Maintenance." said Ron.
"How do you know he works for Magical Maintenance?" Hermione asked, her soupspoon suspended in midair.
"Dad said everyone from Magical Maintenance wears navy blue robes." Ron asked.
"But you never told us that!" Hermione dropped her spoon and pulled toward her the sheaf of notes and maps that she, Y/n and Ron had been examining when Harry had entered the kitchen.
"There's nothing in here about navy blue robes, nothing!" she said, flipping feverishly through the pages.
"Well, does it really matter?" Ron asked.
"Ron, every single detail matters!" Y/n stressed rubbing his eyes with frustration. "If we are going to get into the Ministry and not give ourselves away when they are bound to be on the lookout for intruders, every little detail matters! We have been over and over this, Tell me, what is the point of all these reconnaissance trips if you are not even bothering to tell us..."
"Blimey, I forget one little thing..." Ron said a little defensively.
Y/n just sighed. "Look, I am sorry but you do realize, do you not, that there is probably no more dangerous place in the whole world for us to be right now than the Ministry of..."
"I think we should do it tomorrow." Harry interrupted.
Y/n stopped his sentence while Hermione's jaw was hanging, Ron choked a little over his soup.
"Tomorrow?" repeated Hermione. "You aren't serious, Harry?"
"I am." said Harry. "I don't think we're going to be much better prepared than we are now even if we skulk around the Ministry entrance for another month. The longer we put it off, the farther away that locket could be. There's already a good chance Umbridge has chucked it away, the thing doesn't open."
"Unless." said Ron. "She's found a way of opening it and she's now possessed."
"Wouldn't make any difference to her, she was so evil in the first place." Harry shrugged.
Y/n nodded his head in slight agreement with that statement.
Hermione was biting her lip, deep in thought.
"We know everything important." Harry went on, addressing Y/n and Hermione. "We know they've stopped Apparition in and out of the Ministry. We know only the most senior Ministry members are allowed to connect their homes to the Floo Network now, because Ron heard those two Unspeakables complaining about it. And we know roughly where Umbridge's office is, because of what you and Y/n heard that bearded bloke saying to his mate..."
"'I'll be up on level one, Dolores wants to see me.'" Hermione recited immediately.
"Exactly." said Harry. "And we know you get in using those funny coins, or tokens, or whatever they are, because I saw that witch borrowing one from her friend..."
"You must remember we still do not have any." Y/n warned Harry.
"If the plan works, we will have." Harry continued calmly.
"I don't know, Harry, I don't know...There are an awful lot of things that could go wrong, so much relies on chance..." Hermione voiced concerned.
"That'll be true even if we spend another three months preparing." said Harry. "It's time to act."
He could tell from Ron's and Hermione's faces that they were scared, he was not particularly confident himself, and yet he was sure the time had come to put their plan into operation. Y/n was sat as if going through the options in his mind.
They had spent the previous four weeks taking it in turns to don the Invisibility Cloak and spy on the official entrance to the Ministry, which Ron, thanks to Mr. Weasley, had known since childhood. They had tailed Ministry workers on their way in, eavesdropped on their conversations, and learned by careful observation which of them could be relied upon to appear, alone, at the same time every day. Occasionally there had been a chance to sneak a Daily Prophet out of somebody's briefcase. Slowly they had built up the sketchy maps and notes now stacked in front of Hermione.
"I..." Y/n finally began getting the three's attention. "Am in agreemet with Harry. I cannot see us learning anything more than we already do and time is of the essence, The longer we wait the harder this will be to achieve."
"All right." said Ron slowly. "Let's say we go for it tomorrow... I think it should just be me, You and Harry."
"Oh, don't start that again!" sighed Hermione. "I thought we'd settled this."
"It's one thing hanging around the entrances under the Cloak, but this is different, Hermione." Ron jabbed a finger at a copy of the Daily Prophet dated ten days previously. "You're on the list of Muggle-borns who didn't present themselves for interrogation!"
"And you're supposed to be dying of spattergroit at the Burrow! If anyone shouldn't go, it's Y/n and Harry, they have both got a ten-thousand-Galleon price on their heads each..."
"Fine, I'll stay here." said Harry. "Let me know if you ever defeat Voldemort, won't you?"
"Honestly..." Y/n rolled his eyes and shook his head.
As Ron and Hermione laughed, pain shot through the scar on Harry's forehead. His hand jumped to it. He saw Hermione's eyes narrow, and he tried to pass off the movement by brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"Well, if all four of us go we'll have to Disapparate separately." Ron started saying. "We can't all fit under the Cloak anymore."
"Well I will be able to travel with Hermione the same way we have been going out." Y/n said.
The past few weeks he had been changing into a cat and sitting on Hermione's shoulder as they watched the Ministry. The cat's eyes and ears were far sharper for picking up bits of information.
Harry's scar was becoming more and more painful. He stood up. At once, Kreacher hurried forward.
"Master has not finished his soup, would Master prefer the savory stew, or else the treacle tart to which Master is so partial?"
"Thanks, Kreacher, but I'll be back in a minute... er...bathroom."
They watched as Harry left the room.
"It will be his scar again Hermione said suspiciously.
"Naturally." Y/n said.
Harry hurried up the stairs to the hall and then to the first landing, where he dashed into the bathroom and bolted the door again. Grunting with pain, he slumped over the black basin with its taps in the form of open-mouthed serpents and closed his eyes.
He was gliding along a twilit street. The buildings on either side of him had high, timbered gables; they looked like gingerbread houses.
He approached one of them, then saw the whiteness of his own long-fingered hand against the door. He knocked. He felt a mounting excitement.
The door opened, A laughing woman stood there. Her face fell as she looked into Harry's face, humor gone, terror replacing it.
"Gregorovitch?" said a high, cold voice.
She shook her head She was trying to close the door. A white hand held it steady, prevented her shutting him out...
"I want Gregorovitch."
"Er wohnt hier nicht mehr!" she cried, shaking her head. "He no live here! He no live here! I know him not!"
Abandoning the attempt to close the door, she began to back away down the dark hall, and Harry followed, gliding toward her, and his long-fingered hand had drawn his wand.
"Where is he?"
"Das weiß ich nicht! He move! I know not, I know not!"
He raised the wand. She screamed. Two young children came running into the hall. She tried to shield them with her arms. There was a flash of green light...
"Harry! HARRY!"
He opened his eyes; he had sunk to the floor. Hermione was pounding on the door again.
"Harry, open up!"
He had shouted out, he knew it. He got up and unbolted the door; Hermione toppled inside at once, regained her balance, and looked around suspiciously. Y/n and Ron were right behind her, looking unnerved as he pointed his wand into the corners of the chilly bathroom.
"What were you doing?" asked Hermione sternly.
"What d'you think I was doing?" asked Harry with feeble bravado.
"You were yelling your head off!" said Ron.
"Oh yeah...I must've dozed off or..."
"Harry, please don't insult our intelligence." said Hermione, taking deep breaths. "We know your scar hurt downstairs, and you're white as a sheet."
Harry sat down on the edge of the bath.
"Fine. I've just seen Voldemort murdering a woman. By now he's probably killed her whole family. And he didn't need to. It was Cedric all over again, they were just there..."
"Harry, you aren't supposed to let this happen anymore!" Hermione cried, her voice echoing through the bathroom. "Dumbledore wanted you to use Occlumency! He thought the connection was dangerous...Voldemort can use it, Harry! What good is it to watch him kill and torture, how can it help?"
"Part of me wonders if this is such a bad thing?" Y/n said now.
"What do you mean Y/n?" Hermione quickly asked her brow furrowing as she turned to look at him.
"Harry never was able to learn Occlumency properly from Snape. It was Voldemort who cut off the connection. While it is dangerous I am curious as well to ponder if this is perhaps an unintentional mistake from him. Perhaps his recent failures in trying to kill Harry or his success in overtaking the Ministry have caused him to lower his block on Harry in his mind ever so slightly. If that is the case it is possible we could use it to our advantage."
Ron just looked dazed by this.
But Hermione still did not look pleased.
"I'm with Y/n with this it means I know what he's doing." said Harry.
"So you're not even going to try to shut him out?" Hermione asked.
"Hermione, I can't. Y/n's just pointed out I'm lousy at Occlumency, I never got the hang of it."
"You never really tried!" she said hotly. "I don't get it, Harry...do you like having this special connection or relationship or what...whatever..."
She faltered under the look he gave her as he stood up.
"Like it?" he said quietly. "Would you like it?"
"I...no...I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean..."
"I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he's most dangerous. But I'm going to use it."
"Dumbledore..."
"Forget Dumbledore. This is my choice, nobody else's. I want to know why he's after Gregorovitch."
"Who?" Ron asked.
"He's a foreign wandmaker." said Harry. "He made Krum's wand and Krum reckons he's brilliant."
"But Voldemort has already got Ollivander locked up somewhere. If he already has a wandmaker, what does he need another one for?" Y/n pondered.
"Maybe he agrees with Krum, maybe he thinks Gregorovitch is better...or else he thinks Gregorovitch will be able to explain what my wand did when he was chasing me, because Ollivander didn't know."
Harry glanced into the cracked, dusty mirror and saw Ron, Y/n and Hermione exchanging skeptical looks behind his back.
"Harry, you keep talking about what your wand did." said Hermione. "But you made it happen! Why are you so determined not to take responsibility for your own power?"
"Because I know it wasn't me! And so does Voldemort, Hermione! We both know what really happened!"
They glared at each other, Harry knew that he had not convinced Hermione and that she was marshaling counterarguments, against both his theory on his wand and the fact that he was permitting himself to see into Voldemort's mind. To his relief, Ron intervened first.
"Drop it." he advised Hermione. "It's up to him. And if we're going to the Ministry tomorrow, don't you reckon we should go over the plan?"
Y/n who did not want another argument to break out cleared his throat. "Ron is right, We have more pressing matters to address."
Reluctantly, as the other three could tell, Hermione let the matter rest, though Y/n was quite sure she would attack Harry again at the first opportunity. In the meantime, they returned to the basement kitchen, where Kreacher served them all stew and treacle tart.
They did not get to bed until late that night, after spending hours going over and over their plan until they could recite it, word perfect, to each other.
Harry had decided to sleep in Sirius's old room while Y/n and Hermione took the room she and Ginny had shared two years ago. The two were laid down in bed holding one another.
"Do you really think this plan will work Y/n?" Hermione asked him nervous.
"There are risks..." Y/n admitted as he felt Hermione's body tighten up in his hold, at this he just pulled her closer to him. "But we have always taken risks and managed to improvise when necessary."
"But what if..."
"Hermione." Y/n stopped her. "There is nothing we can gain by worrying about the plan anymore. It has been decided upon by the others and it is too late to change anything. For now, we need to just prepare and give it our best tomorrow."
Hermione didn't say anything but slowly nodded.
"I know that you are nervous but I am with you not only this." Y/n started as his hand took her left one and brushed against the ring on her finger. "But through all the challenges we will face together in life."
Hermione just turned around in Y/n's grasp now and looked up at him.
"Will we survive that long?" She asked quietly.
"We will." Y/n said looking down at her with conviction. "Because I will not let anything happen to you or the others."
Hermione just nodded again.
"Close your eyes." Y/n said resting his head atop of hers. "We need all the rest we can get..."
And soon the two would drift off in each others arms.
Dawn seemed to follow midnight with indecent haste.
"You look terrible." was Ron's greeting as he entered the room to wake Harry.
"Not for long." said Harry, yawning.
They found Y/n and Hermione downstairs in the kitchen. They were being served coffee and hot rolls by Kreacher.
Hermione was wearing the slightly manic expression that Harry associated with exam review.
"Robes." she said under her breath, acknowledging their presence with a nervous nod and continuing to poke around in her beaded bag. "Polyjuice Potion...Invisibility Cloak...Decoy Detonators...You should each take a couple just in case...Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougat, Extendable Ears..."
They gulped down their breakfast, then set off upstairs, Kreacher bowing them out and promising to have a steak-and-kidney pie ready for them when they returned.
"Bless him." said Ron fondly. "And when you think I used to fantasize about cutting off his head and sticking it on the wall."
"His attitude has improved, but that still does not change what he did." Y/n said as they made their way onto the front step with immense caution.
They could see a couple of puffy-eyed Death Eaters watching the house from across the misty square.
Hermione Disapparated with Harry first, With Y/n taking Harry with him.
After the usual brief spell of darkness and near suffocation, Y/n and Harry found themselves in the tiny alleyway where the first phase of their plan was scheduled to take place. It was as yet deserted, except for a couple of large bins, the first Ministry workers did not usually appear here until at least eight o'clock.
"Right then." said Hermione, checking her watch. "She ought to be here in about five minutes. When we've Stunned her..."
"Hermione, we know," said Ron sternly. "And I thought we were supposed to open the door before she got here?"
Hermione squealed. "I nearly forgot! Stand back..."
She pointed her wand at the padlocked and heavily graffitied fire door beside them, which burst open with a crash. The dark corridor behind it led, as they knew from their careful scouting trips, into an empty theater. Hermione pulled the door back toward her, to make it look as though it was still closed.
"And now." she said, turning back to face the other three in the alleyway. "We put on the Cloak again..."
"And we wait." Y/n finished.
Ron just threw the cloak over Hermione's head like a blanket over a birdcage and rolling his eyes at Harry.
Little more than a minute later, there was a tiny pop and a little Ministry witch with flyaway gray hair Apparated feet from them, blinking a little in the sudden brightness, the sun had just come out from behind a cloud. She barely had time to enjoy the unexpected warmth, however, before Y/n's silent Stunning Spell hit her in the chest and she toppled over.
"Nicely done mate." said Ron, emerging from behind a bin beside the theater door as Harry took off the Invisibility Cloak. Together they carried the little witch into the dark passageway that led backstage. Hermione plucked a few hairs from the witch's head and added them to a flask of muddy Polyjuice Potion she had taken from the beaded bag. Ron was rummaging through the little witch's handbag as he handed a small card to Y/n.
"She is called Mafalda Hopkirk." he said, reading the small card that identified their victim as an assistant in the Improper Use of Magic Office before he handed Hermione the card.
"Here you'd better take one of these tokens too." Ron said and he passed her several small golden coins, all embossed with the letters M.O.M. , which he had taken from the witch's purse.
Hermione drank the Polyjuice Potion, which was now a pleasant heliotrope color, and within seconds stood before them, the double of Mafalda Hopkirk. As she removed Mafalda's spectacles and put them on.
"You will not feel offended if I do not kiss you good luck will you?" Y/n asked hoping to alleviate some tension.
"Knock it off." Hermione smacked his chest. "This is serious."
"Y/n, You'd better go. Your target should be arriving any minute." Harry said.
"Right..." Y/n nodded becoming serious again.
"Here." Ron said holding out the cloak to him but Y/n shook his head and took out his wand waving it over himself as his figure disappeared into thin air. They heard his footsteps leaving a few moments later.
"How's he done that?" Ron asked.
"Disillusionment charm..." Hermione answered for him.
Harry nodded. "Dumbledore used the same one in my first year to catch me looking at the mirror."
Y/n stood alone in the alleyway as he watched like a cat stalking a bird for his target to approach. He did not have to wait long however as a minute later a grumpy looking middle aged man with brown greying hair and a rough patch of stubble rounded a corner. In his hand, he was reading the morning Daily Prophet.
Y/n watched as he approached closer and saw that no one else was coming from either direction soon he passed Y/n who drew his wand.
The man just grumpily grunted as he looked at his paper. "Bloody filthy Muggle-borns..."
But he never got to finish his statement as he was hit by a silent stunning spell.
"Oh wonderful, I get to impersonate a muggle hater..." Y/n said annoyed as he waved his wand to levitate the unconscious man and carry him towards the door and down the dark passageway.
"You got him? Nice." Ron's voice could be heard.
"He is a muggle hater." Y/n said. "So if you hear me saying anything foul...please remember I do not harbour those views."
"We know Y/n." Hermione said understanding. "But you've got stay in character."
Y/n just nodded as he pointed his wand to set the man down.
Ron immediately retrieved his wallet and took out a small card looking at it. "He's called John Smith." He then handed it to Y/n who saw he worked in the Muggle-Born Registration Commission
Harry checked his watch. "We're running late, Mr. Magical Maintenance will be here any second."
They hurried to close the door on the real Mafalda and John before Harry, Y/n and Ron threw the Invisibility Cloak over themselves and Hermione remained in view, waiting. Seconds later there was another pop, and a small, ferrety-looking wizard appeared before them.
"Oh, hello, Mafalda."
"Hello!" said Hermione in a quavery voice. "How are you today?"
"Not so good, actually." replied the little wizard, who looked thoroughly downcast.
As Hermione and the wizard headed for the main road, Harry, Y/n and Ron crept along behind them.
"I'm sorry to hear you're under the weather." said Hermione, talking firmly over the little wizard as he tried to expound upon his problems, it was essential to stop him from reaching the street. "Here, have a sweet."
"Eh? Oh, no thanks..."
"I insist!" said Hermione aggressively, shaking the bag of pastilles in his face. Looking rather alarmed, the little wizard took one.
The effect was instantaneous. The moment the pastille touched his tongue, the little wizard started vomiting so hard that he did not even notice as Hermione yanked a handful of hairs from the top of his head.
"Oh dear!" she said, as he splattered the alley with sick. "Perhaps you'd better take the day off!"
"No...no!" He choked and retched, trying to continue on his way despite being unable to walk straight. "I must...today...must go..."
"But that's just silly!" said Hermione, alarmed. "You can't go to work in this state...I think you ought to go to St. Mungo's and get them to sort you out!"
The wizard had collapsed, heaving, onto all fours, still trying to crawl toward the main street.
"You simply can't go to work like this!" cried Hermione.
At last he seemed to accept the truth of her words. Using a repulsed Hermione to claw his way back into a standing position, he turned on the spot and vanished, leaving nothing behind but the bag Ron had snatched from his hand as he went and some flying chunks of vomit.
"Urgh." said Hermione, holding up the skirts of her robe to avoid the puddles of sick. "It would have made much less mess to Stun him too."
"Yeah." said Ron, emerging from under the cloak holding the wizard's bag. "But I still think a whole pile of unconscious bodies would have drawn more attention considering the two we already got back there. Keen on his job, though, isn't he? Chuck us the hair and the potion, then."
Within two minutes, Ron stood before them, as small and ferrety as the sick wizard, and wearing the navy blue robes that had been folded in his bag.
"Weird he wasn't wearing them today, wasn't it, seeing how much he wanted to go? Anyway, I'm Reg Cattermole, according to the label in the back."
"Now you two wait here and Y/n you change into this John Smith." Hermione told them. "And we'll be back with some hairs for you Harry."
As the two in disguise left Y/n waved his wand to change his appearance to completely match Jonn Smith's.
"Why couldn't you just do that for us all?" Harry asked not keen on the polyjuice potion.
"It takes a lot of effort for me to do just myself let alone four people." Y/n said. Besides it is not impossible that we will be split up...It is best you use Polyjuice potion."
They had to wait ten minutes, but it seemed much longer to Harry, skulking alone in the sick-splattered alleyway beside the door concealing the Stunned Mafalda. Finally Ron and Hermione reappeared.
"We don't know who he is." Hermione said, passing Harry several curly black hairs. "But he's gone home with a dreadful nosebleed! Here, he's pretty tall, you'll need bigger robes..."
Y/n in disguise exited from under the cloak now as Hermione pulled out a set of the old robes Kreacher had laundered for them, and Harry took the potion and began to change.
Once the painful transformation was complete he was more than six feet tall and, from what he could tell from his well-muscled arms, powerfully built. He also had a beard. Stowing the Invisibility Cloak and his glasses inside his new robes, he rejoined the other two.
"Blimey, that's scary." said Ron, looking up at Harry, who now towered over him.
"Here take one of Mafalda's tokens." Hermione told Y/n and Harry. "And let's go, it's nearly nine."
They all stepped out of the alleyway together. Fifty yards along the crowded pavement there were spiked black railings flanking two flights of steps, one labeled GENTLEMEN, the other LADIES.
"See you in a moment, then." said Hermione nervously, and she tottered off down the steps to LADIES. Harry, Y/n and Ron joined a number of oddly dressed men descending into what appeared to be an ordinary underground public toilet, tiled in grimy black and white.
"Morning, Reg!" called another wizard in navy blue robes as he let himself into a cubicle by inserting his golden token into a slot in the door. "Blooming pain in the bum, this, eh? Forcing us all to get to work this way! Who are they expecting to turn up, Harry Potter?"
The wizard roared with laughter at his own wit. Ron gave a forced chuckle.
"Yeah." he said. "Stupid, isn't it?"
And he, Y/n and Harry let themselves into adjoining cubicles.
To Y/n's left came the sound of flushing. He crouched down and peered through the gap at the bottom of the cubicle, just in time to see a pair of booted feet climbing into the toilet next door. He looked right and saw Ron blinking at him.
"We have to flush ourselves in?" he whispered.
"How disgusting..." Y/n whispered back, his voice came out sounding older and grumpy.
The three stood up. Feeling exceptionally foolish and disgusted, Y/n clambered into the toilet.
He knew at once that he had done the right thing, though he appeared to be standing in water, his shoes, feet, and robes remained quite dry. He reached up, pulled the chain, and next moment had zoomed down a short chute, emerging out of a fireplace into the Ministry of Magic.
He got up slowly, there was a more of his body than he was accustomed to. The great Atrium seemed darker than Y/n remembered it from two years ago. Previously a golden fountain had filled the center of the hall, casting shimmering spots of light over the polished wooden floor and walls. Now a gigantic statue of black stone dominated the scene. It was rather frightening, this vast sculpture of a witch and a wizard sitting on ornately carved thrones, looking down at the Ministry workers toppling out of fireplaces below them. Engraved in foot-high letters at the base of the statue were the words MAGIC IS MIGHT.
Y/n turned his head to see Harry stood looking around the same as him.
Harry received a heavy blow on the back of the legs, Another wizard had just flown out of the fireplace behind him.
"Out of the way, can't y...oh, sorry, Runcorn! Oh and Smith...didn't see you both there."
Clearly frightened, the balding wizard hurried away. Apparently the men whom Y/n and Harry were impersonating were intimidating.
"Psst!" said a voice, and they looked around to see a wispy little witch and the ferrety wizard from Magical Maintenance gesturing to him from over beside the statue. Y/n and Harry hastened to join them.
"You got in all right, then?" Hermione whispered to Harry.
"No, he's still stuck in the bog." said Ron.
"Oh, very funny... It's horrible, isn't it?" she said to Y/n, who was staring up at the statue. "Have you seen what they're sitting on?"
"Yes..." Y/n said sadly as a second glance had revealed that what he had thought were decoratively carved thrones were actually mounds of carved humans, hundreds and hundreds of naked bodies, men, women, and children, all with rather stupid, ugly faces, twisted and pressed together to support the weight of the handsomely robed wizards.
"Muggles." whispered Hermione. "In their rightful place. Come on, let's get going."
They joined the stream of witches and wizards moving toward the golden gates at the end of the hall, looking around as surreptitiously as possible, but there was no sign of the distinctive figure of Dolores Umbridge. They passed through the gates and into a smaller hall, where queues were forming in front of twenty golden grilles housing as many lifts. They had barely joined the nearest one when a voice said. "Cattermole!"
They looked around, Harry's stomach turned over. One of the Death Eaters who had witnessed Dumbledore's death was striding toward them. The Ministry workers beside them fell silent, their eyes downcast, Harry could feel fear rippling through them. The man's scowling, slightly brutish face was somehow at odds with his magnificent, sweeping robes, which were embroidered with much gold thread. Someone in the crowd around the lifts called sycophantically. "Morning, Yaxley!" Yaxley ignored them.
"I requested somebody from Magical Maintenance to sort out my office, Cattermole. It's still raining in there."
Ron looked around as though hoping somebody else would intervene, but nobody spoke.
"Raining...in your office? That's...that's not good, is it?" Ron gave a nervous laugh. Yaxley's eyes widened.
"You think it's funny, Cattermole, do you?"
A pair of witches broke away from the queue for the lift and bustled off.
"No." said Ron. "No, of course..."
"You realize that I am on my way downstairs to interrogate your wife, Cattermole? In fact, I'm quite surprised you're not down there holding her hand while she waits. Already given her up as a bad job, have you? Probably wise. Be sure and marry a pureblood next time."
Hermione had let out a little squeak of horror. Yaxley looked at her. She coughed feebly and turned away.
"I...I..." stammered Ron.
"But if my wife were accused of being a Mudblood." said Yaxley. "...Not that any woman I married would ever be mistaken for such filth... and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I would make it my priority to do that job, Cattermole. Do you understand me?"
"Yes." whispered Ron.
"Then attend to it, Cattermole, and if my office is not completely dry within an hour, your wife's Blood Status will be in even graver doubt than it is now."
The golden grille before them clattered open. With a nod and unpleasant smile to Y/n and Harry, who were evidently expected to appreciate this treatment of Cattermole, Yaxley swept away toward another lift. Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione entered theirs, but nobody followed them. It was as if they were infectious. The grilles shut with a clang and the lift began to move upward.
"What am I going to do?" Ron asked the other three at once, he looked stricken. "If I don't turn up, my wife..."
"You are not married." Y/n reminded him.
"I mean, Cattermole's wife..."
"We'll come with you, we should stick together..." began Harry, but Ron shook his head feverishly.
"That's mental, we haven't got much time. You three find Umbridge, I'll go and sort out Yaxley's office...but how do I stop it raining?"
"Try Finite Incantatem." said Hermione at once. "That should stop the rain if it's a hex or curse."
"If that does not work then something has gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm, which will be more difficult to fix, so as an interim measure try Impervius to protect his belongings..." Y/n advised.
"Say it again, slowly..." said Ron, searching his pockets desperately for a quill, but at that moment the lift juddered to a halt. A disembodied female voice said. "Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau," and the grilles slid open again, admitting a couple of wizards and several pale violet paper airplanes that fluttered around the lamp in the ceiling of the lift.
"Morning, Albert, John." said a bushily whiskered man, smiling at Y/n and Harry. Y/n just gave a grumpy grunt of acknowledgment as he tried to stay in character. He glanced over at Ron and Hermione as the lift creaked upward once more, Hermione was now whispering frantic instructions to Ron. The wizard leaned toward him and Harry, leering, and muttered. "Dirk Cresswell, eh? From Goblin Liaison? Nice one, Albert. I'm pretty confident I'll get his job now!"
He winked. Harry smiled back, hoping that this would suffice. The lift stopped, the grilles opened once more.
"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services." said the disembodied witch's voice.
Y/n saw Hermione give Ron a little push and he hurried out of the lift, followed by the other wizards, leaving Harry, Y/n and Hermione alone. The moment the golden door had closed Hermione said, very fast, "Actually, Harry, I think I'd better go after him, I don't think he knows what he's doing and if he gets caught the whole thing..."
"Level one, Minister of Magic and Support Staff."
The golden grilles slid apart again and Hermione gasped. Four people stood before them, two of them deep in conversation, a long-haired wizard wearing magnificent robes of black and gold, and a squat, toadlike witch wearing a velvet bow in her short hair and clutching a clipboard to her chest.