10

Chapter 10: Fyring Lines

Chapter Text

Ron Weasley blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling, wondering where he was, then groaned as he remembered the previous night. His memory was a touch fuzzy, it had to be said, probably because of those weird brain things that had been in the Department of Mysteries. He hadn't much enjoyed his encounter with them, but luckily his friends had managed to yank him clear before something worse happened. Even so he'd found himself feeling very out of sorts on the way back to Hogwarts, which was only partially down to meeting that incredibly creepy Skitter person and all the fighting that had gone on before she turned up out of nowhere.

He was still tired, right down to his bones, but felt on the whole no worse than after a really long Quidditch match, despite a lingering sensation of something deep in his mind having been poked in a way it didn't get on with. He was certainly far more alert and pain-free than he'd been when they'd finally staggered into Hogwarts with Moody and Tonks around midnight or so. All of them had been taken directly to the infirmary, since they were all injured to one level or another, and Madam Pomfrey had been quite caustic about having to get out of bed past midnight and sort out their various issues. She had made it abundantly clear she wasn't impressed by their adventures.

Even so, all of them had been swiftly and efficiently diagnosed, potioned, and put into bed with strict instructions to lie down and go to sleep right now or there would be trouble. None of them felt like disobeying and to be honest they were so tired it was a relief to just let the world go away for a while. Moody and Tonks had left after that, presumably to deal with all the other problems that would be doubtless popping up very shortly. Umbridge likely being one of those, assuming the centaurs let her go.

He couldn't help hoping they didn't. She was a horrible person and the sooner she was gone for good the happier he'd be. What she'd managed to do to the school was awful and he wondered how long it would go on like that for. Considering how many of the Slytherins had lost their parents last night, he suspected that there would be a lot of changes happening very soon.

Ron wasn't an idiot, although he also knew full well he wasn't nearly in Hermione or Luna's class when it came to brains. But he could easily see that the outcome of the previous night was going to have all manner of strange effects, both here and in the magical world at large, although he couldn't really say what those would be other than unexpected.

Raising his head, he winced slightly as he felt his brain give a good impression of sloshing around in his skull for a moment before everything settled down, then peered around, wondering if Harry and the others were also in the infirmary. All of them had been suffering from exhaustion by the end of the fight, even if those three hadn't had the injuries that the rest of them had picked up, and he expected they'd have also been sent to see Madam Pomfrey as soon as they got back just in case. But while he could see his sister and Neville both sleeping on beds on his right, none of the other beds contained anyone at all. Neither did they show signs of having been used, for that matter.

"Odd…" he mumbled, looking around, then lying down again as his head began throbbing. His grunted exclamation of pain was a bit too loud, as it immediately had the effect of producing a mediwitch who popped up next to his bed sufficiently unexpectedly that he yelped in startlement.

Madam Pomfrey looked somewhat amused under the stern expression and he got the distinct impression she'd done that on purpose, but he didn't dare complain. And by the look on her face she knew full well what he was thinking. Handing him a couple of potion vials, she said, "That one for the pain, this one for everything else. Bottoms up, Mr Weasley."

Sighing a little as he knew this was going to be unpleasant, he swigged both potions as quickly as he could, gagging at the horrible taste. She handed him a glass of water, which he quickly drank in an attempt to wash the taste away. And because he was very thirsty. When he'd finished, she accepted the three items back and put them on the tray that was floating next to her, before waving her wand in some sort of diagnostic spell, studying the results with a small frown, and eventually nodding.

"You're going to need to have a good meal or two, but you'll be fine. There's some indication of something strange happening to your mind, but whatever caused it didn't do permanent damage, luckily for you. You'll be on a potion to stave off the effects until you heal up, which shouldn't take more than perhaps two weeks, I'm afraid, but I expect a full recovery." Giving him a hard look, she added sternly, "I would very much recommend not doing whatever it was you did again, Mr Weasley. You could well not be so lucky a second time. This could have ended far worse for you."

He nodded meekly. "I understand, Madam Pomfrey." The woman nodded, satisfied, then as he looked at Ginny and Neville who hadn't yet stirred, smiled a little.

"Your sister and Mr Longbottom are fine, Ronald," she assured him more gently. "Both of them needed sleep to heal properly. They were suffering from overexertion, both physically and magically, and had a number of fairly minor injuries, but nothing some bed rest and the right treatment won't sort out, don't worry. I was more concerned about you, as mental attacks are much harder to treat than physical ones. They'll both wake up soon, then all of you can go for breakfast."

"What time is it?" he asked, reassured by her words and feeling a lot better now the residual aches had vanished due to the potions.

"Just after half past six in the morning," she replied.

He nodded, lying back on his pillow and relaxing for now. Another forty minutes of rest sounded like a good idea in his view. "What happened to Harry and the others?" he asked, puzzled. She raised an eyebrow at him and he indicated the room at large with one hand. "Didn't they have anything wrong with them then?"

"I haven't seen Mr Potter and your other friends, Mr Weasley," she told him. "Were they injured?" She seemed somewhat concerned.

"Not that I know of, other than being knackered from the fighting," he admitted. "I just though… well, you'd want to keep them under observation like you always do when Harry gets hurt. Even when he says he's fine."

She put her hands on her hips and gave him a look. "Mr Potter has the regrettable tendency of claiming he's 'fine' even when it's obvious to a completely untrained person he's anything but, as you well know. But to the best of my knowledge none of them returned to the castle last night after your little outing."

"Oh." He frowned, wondering what had happened to them, and feeling somewhat worried now. "I wonder where they are?"

"I'm sure I have no idea, but Professor Dumbledore will have things well in hand I have no doubt, so don't get too concerned just yet," she assured him with a small smile. "They'll most likely turn up at breakfast. Now that that horrible woman is gone, hopefully he can set things to right once more."

"Umbridge is gone?" Ron exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. She put a hand on his shoulder and gently pressed him back down, while nodding.

"Calmly, Mr Weasley. Yes, several other aurors arrived some time after you did, and together with Alastor and Nymphadora went to talk to the centaurs. They retrieved Miss Umbridge from them and took her away. Alastor told me that she was definitely never returning, and that Dumbledore would be coming back once he'd finished talking to the Minister and Madam Bones. I expect he'll likely turn up at breakfast too, and begin putting the castle back in order."

"Wow," he managed after a few seconds. "She's finally gone. I can hardly believe it…"

The nightmarish situation Hogwarts had fallen into due to the Pink Menace was apparently ending, and he was so relieved by that fact he nearly forgot about the insanity of the night before for a little while.

However, another thought struck him a few seconds later and made him wince. She noted his expression and raised a quizzical eyebrow again. "Is there a problem, Mr Weasley?"

"Er… has the news about what actually happened last night arrived yet?" he asked tentatively. The mediwitch shook her head with an expression of interest.

"No, so far all we have heard is that Miss Umbridge is gone and Dumbledore is returning. Why? What else happened?"

"Oh, Merlin," he sighed, dropping his head back on the pillow. He hated Malfoy with a passion for many, many reasons, most of them very good, but he couldn't help feeling a small amount of pity for the other boy about what he was going to soon learn. "It's a long story and I still can't believe half of it myself, but… a lot of Death Eaters got themselves killed last night at the Ministry. Including Malfoy's dad, and Crabbe's, definitely."

She put a hand over her mouth and looked startled. "Oh. Oh, dear. Are you sure?"

"I was right there when they died," he admitted. "They were trying to kill us and it… didn't work out for them."

"Ah…" The nurse shook her head, looking sad. "That's going to cause some problems, I suspect."

"Yeah," he agreed morosely, since he wasn't looking forward to having a whole pile of upset Slytherins running around taking it out on everyone else. They'd been bad enough as it was, and he couldn't see how learning they'd lost their parents was going to improve that situation. He wasn't too upset about the people who'd been doing their best to kill him and the others having a severe case of Skitter, but the outcome of that was likely to cause a lot of strange problems. And if Malfoy and his cronies found out he and his friends had been involved, well… It was going to get dicey.

Hopefully Dumbledore would get back and put a stop to it before there were running battles in the corridors. He was just about done with having people try to kill him, if he was completely honest with himself. That was the sort of thing that lost any sort of glamour very quickly.

He had developed an entirely new appreciation to how Harry probably felt much too often, and he didn't like the sensation one little bit.

"You get some more rest," Madam Pomfrey told him, looking thoughtful at what he'd said. "Your friends will wake shortly." She moved to check on the pair next to him, then nodded in satisfaction. "Probably in about half an hour. Once they do, you can all leave, as I'm satisfied you've mostly recovered from your exertions. But…" She turned to him and fixed him with a stern gaze. "Do not go gallivanting off on another little adventure for at least three or four days, please. You all need to regain your strength and recuperate without too much stress to make a full recovery. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he replied a little nervously, nodding agreement. To be truthful he had no wish whatsoever to go 'gallivanting off' any time soon in anything even remotely approaching the level of danger they'd experienced last night. He wanted exactly the sort of quiet time she was ordering, and several very large meals.

"Make sure your sister and Mr Longbottom understand my instructions as well, please," she added, stepping back. "If any of you feel out of sorts in any way, especially you, see me immediately, but I believe that's unlikely. And when your other friends finally put in an appearance please ask them to visit, just so I can be certain Mr Potter isn't playing his usual tricks."

"I'll tell him," Ron agreed with a slight smile, knowing how much Harry hated being in one of these beds, while also knowing how much of a habit of doing things that put him in one his friend had. Perhaps now that most of the evil bastards had met someone even more dangerous than they were, that might actually stop? Or at least slow down a little, since Harry was after all Harry and the chap didn't seem to know how to not get involved in things…

"Thank you. I have to go and talk to a number of people now. Rest until your friends wake up, and please, as a favor to me, try not to have a near-death experience for the rest of the term? It would be a lovely present, you see." She smiled at him in a somewhat mischievous manner as he couldn't help laughing. The woman was so professional most of the time you often didn't realize that she did after all have a sense of humor.

"I'll do what I can, but you know Harry…" He shrugged even as he settled back into the pillows. Her sigh of resignation made him grin.

"Unfortunately, that I do, indeed," she muttered as she turned and walked away, leaving the infirmary and closing the door behind her. Snickering a little because it really was rather funny all things considered, he closed his eyes and relaxed, wondering where Harry and the others really were right now.

He didn't even realized he'd fallen asleep until Ginny poked him in the forehead hard enough to wake him abruptly some time later, looking somewhat confused with Neville sitting on his bed behind her watching.

Ron quickly explained the situation to the pair, both nodding. "I guess we go to breakfast now," he finished after a quick recap of his discussion with the mediwitch, who apparently still hadn't returned. Flipping the covers aside he got up, then stretched widely. "I'm starving."

"You're always starving, Ron," his sister commented, Neville grinning at the comment. "I still think you have a tapeworm or something."

"Oi! That's disgusting!" he retorted as he looked around for his wand, found it on the bedside table, and retrieved the tool which he put in his pocket.

"So is how you eat, so it all evens out in the end," she immediately responded with a smirk of her own. He flicked her in the forehead with his finger and she glared at him. "Don't do that."

"Make me."

"You think I won't?"

Neville cleared his throat, making the siblings both turn to look at him. "Perhaps we should leave the threats until after we eat?" he commented lightly, also standing up and sorting his clothes out, then grabbing his robe from where it was hung over a chair next to the bed. "Because I'm also very hungry."

"Sure, I can threaten him any time," Ginny agreed happily, also collecting her outer clothing. Ron sighed, did the same, and all three of them left in search of copious amounts of food, by mutual unspoken agreement not discussing what they'd been doing a few hours ago.

The memories were too raw yet and all three of them wanted time to process their experiences without talking about it for a while.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Thank you, Amelia," Minerva said, then sighed as the floo connection broke, the fireplace going back to looking like a normal fire. Standing up she brushed herself down before turning to the others present, that being the bulk of the staff at Hogwarts. The only two not there were Dumbledore himself and Hagrid, who was apparently off in the Forest doing something or other and couldn't be contacted at the moment.

Moving to her desk she sat behind it, then gently rubbed her forehead with a couple of fingers, dreading the likely outcome of the next few days. It wasn't going to be something anyone particularly enjoyed in all sorts of ways, she feared. The only good thing was that the odious woman was gone for good.

And a lot of particularly nasty people had apparently engineered their own spectacular downfall, of course, but while she was pleased that particular problem was dealt with, she wasn't one to rejoice over the death of anyone. Except Voldemort.

She'd make an exception for him.

"Well, now, this is a difficult one, I fear," she finally said, dropping her hands to fold them on her desk as she looked around at her fellow staff members. Severus was rubbing his left arm with a somewhat reflective expression, seeming to be thinking of something that disturbed him as far as she could judge, while everyone else was watching her closely.

"When is Albus returning?" Filius queried. They'd all arrived halfway through her conversation with Bones, aside from Poppy who had been the one to tell her what the youngest Weasley boy had passed on to her earlier. She'd immediately floo-called Amelia Bones, and had a very odd discussion with someone who looked like she was running on far too many pepper-up potions to be healthy combined with a large helping of deep annoyance.

"I canna precisely say," she replied with another sigh, shaking her head. "Amelia says he's helping her with her inquiries, which is a rather ominous turn of phrase if ever I've heard one. She said the same about Minister Fudge, and I got the distinct impression she was somewhat upset with the pair of them. I have no idea precisely what is going on, but it's fair to assume something rather strange happened last night."

"I think quite a number of strange things happened last night," Filius chuckled. "Even for Hogwarts."

"A point, yes," she admitted with a small smile. "Stranger than most of those other things, then. She did confirm that a number of people now known to be Death Eaters met a very final end during whatever it was that occurred." Taking a breath, she went on, "Including Voldemort himself." She managed to get the name out without the ingrained slight hitch that was so common. Everyone stared at her in disbelief. Severus looked down at his arm, then back to her face, his own expression indecipherable, before seeming to slump slightly in his chair.

"Merlin's beard! Are you sure?" Pomona Sprout was gaping.

"That's what Amelia told me, and I have no reason to disbelieve her," Minerva replied. "I dearly hope she's right, but she certainly appeared convinced. I presume we'll find out more about whatever really happened in due course. And that the Prophet will be filled with some sensationalized variant of the truth, or something that might be seen to be roughly connected to the truth if you squint hard enough, soon enough too." She wasn't all that impressed with the accuracy of the main newspaper of the British Wizarding World…

Her colleagues all seemed stunned, which frankly described her own feelings as well. Eventually Poppy recovered enough, though, to comment, "We're still missing three students if Mr Weasley is correct. Did she mention knowing where Mr Potter, Miss Lovegood, and Miss Granger are? As far as I'm aware they haven't yet returned to the castle and Mr Weasley was concerned that one or more of them might have been injured during their… field trip…" Her voice was rather dry for that last part and Minerva couldn't help a small snort of rueful laughter. Harry Potter did seem to have a knack for getting involved in things he most likely shouldn't have, and often ended up taking friends along for the ride. Especially Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger.

She was fairly certain that if it wasn't for those two, and mostly the latter, the Potter boy might well have met an unfortunate end by now. Through no real fault of his own, it had to be said. Things just seemed to happen to the lad.

"Amelia said they were basically fine, and due to the lateness of the night, and I would assume also taking the chance they were given to avoid that awful woman and the rest of the unpleasantness we've seen so much of here, at Miss Granger's suggestion went to her own house for the night. I don't like to admit it but they're probably safer there than they are here right now." Leaning back in her chair Minerva tapped her fingers on her desk, giving Severus a somewhat gimlet-eyed look. "Largely due to your house, Severus. Your Slytherins have been… somewhat less than pleasant to other students."

"Blame that ghastly Umbridge bitch," he said almost absently, still massaging his arm and appearing to be thinking about something that had him far away from them. Everyone looked at him, then each other, as that wasn't the sort of response you generally got from the potions master. He was acerbic, and positively unpleasant much of the time, but seldom if ever actually swore.

"Oh, I do, believe me, but I can name certain people who were far too enthusiastic about helping her with her idiotic edicts and commands. I can't help noticing that almost all of them came from your house." Minerva glared at him, which finally made him seem to rejoin the rest of them in the room. "She is gone now, and Amelia seemed certain she would not be returning. So I think it entirely reasonable to ask you to control your students, before something happens everyone will regret. We've got enough bad blood between Slytherin and every other house in the school as it is, after the last few months. We cannot let it get worse or who knows what the outcome will be. And now that we know that the parents of a number of those same students won't be coming home…" She made a small gesture with one hand, causing him to wince slightly, and several of the others to shake their heads for one reason or another.

"We're going to have enough trouble with those students when they find out without everyone else holding grudges due to their actions on Umbridge's behalf, especially now she's gone. They won't have her authority, such as it was, shielding them from the consequences of running roughshod over three quarters of the school, and I can see some highly unpleasant consequences occurring as a result." Rubbing her eyes with finger and thumb as her colleagues listened, she sighed faintly, then lowered her hand.

"Until Albus gets back I have the unenviable task of taking his place to keep order, and I'm going to need the help of every last one of you. I hope I can count on you to do your duty?"

She was looking directly at Severus as she asked the question, meeting his eyes, which briefly flashed with anger as he clearly suppressed what he wanted to say. Taking a breath, he nodded curtly. "I assume we have Potter to thank for the chaos descending upon us yet again," he snarled.

"One day you really have to grow up and get over your feud with someone who's been dead for fifteen years, Severus," Flitwick said mildly, although there was something in his expression which made Snape lean away from him when he snapped his head around. "Harry Potter is not James Potter, and a grown wizard still holding a grudge for someone who isn't even alive through his offspring is unseemly, as well as pointless. Let it go and move on, for everyone's sake. And your own peace of mind if nothing else."

"You know nothing about it, Filius," Severus growled.

"I know a lot more about feuds than you do, Snape," Filius growled back, sounding suddenly much more dangerous than you'd expect from someone not even four feet tall. "I also know what happens when you let them fester. No one comes off well, trust me. Look to your own house and get it in order, and leave Potter and his friends to those whose job it is to deal with them. You'll have more than enough to keep you busy without adding to your burden or ours."

Minerva, just as Severus was about to retort, his sallow face darkening with anger, slammed her hand down on her desk with a sharp report. "Enough!", she commanded, raising her voice. "There will be no bickering here. Severus, Filius is right. Stop obsessing over the Potter boy, who I very much doubt is the cause of a lot of vicious evil people meeting their demise, and contain yourself to getting your Slytherins under control before everyone regrets the outcome. Filius, stop winding Severus up, it's not doing anything useful regardless of how right you are." She glared at both men, Snape subsiding into his chair with his arms folded and a sullen expression, Filius grinning cheekily at her and winking.

She managed to prevent herself smirking, somehow, but she was sure he noticed. They'd been close friends for far too long to not let that happen.

"As I was saying, we're going to have our work cut out for us in the days coming, so everyone is going to have to pull together if we want to get Hogwarts back on her feet. Official notification of the deaths will come soon enough. Amelia told me they're working on a final identification of everyone involved which is proving somewhat difficult due to… a lack of remains in some cases…" Which was a fairly horrifying mental image, she had to admit to herself as she wondered uneasily what had really happened at the Ministry. "But we do know unofficially but accurately that the dead definitely number among them Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Jonas Crabbe, Leroy Goyle, and… Peter Pettigrew."

She shook her head as she said the last name, wishing that many things in the past hadn't happened, things that could ultimately be laid at the feet of someone she'd taught for seven years.

Several pairs of eyes widened, and she realized that not everyone had learned that Pettigrew had been shown to still be alive back before the farce of the Triwizard Tournament had occurred. Fudge had gone out of his way to ensure the news didn't become public, apparently successfully, and for various reasons that in hindsight looked somewhat suspicious those who did know hadn't spoken of it.

Minerva made a mental note to contemplate why that had happened when she had a free moment, since it was starting to bother her when combined with a few other such oddities she could think of now her mind was working to that end… But for now she had more immediately important issues to handle.

"Pettigrew?" Septima looked highly confused as she repeated the name. "He died in 1981, or so I believed. Killed by Sirius Black." Minerva shook her head as she considered the Arithmancy professor.

"No, as it happens, the news of his demise was highly premature. He was in fact the betrayer of the Potter's, not Black, and framed, I believe the term is, that poor man. It's a long story, which we don't have time to discuss right now, but when we do I'm happy to explain. But the long and the short of it is that Black was entirely innocent, and Pettigrew very much not. He was also responsible for the, thankfully short lived, return of Voldemort during the Triwizard." She shook her head as they all listened with various expressions, many shocked. "Amelia conveyed the information that the Minister has signed an order to the effect that the case of Sirius Black will be brought before the Wizengamot as soon as possible, where he will be questioned, undoubtedly found innocent, and released. Most likely with an eye-wateringly huge compensation and much embarrassment all around, due to him apparently never being given a trial when he was initially caught."

"Circe's tits," Bathsheda exclaimed, her face thunderous. "You mean that poor man spend over a decade in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit and was put there without anyone even checking?"

Minerva spread her hands and nodded, causing the Runes Professor to start swearing viciously under her breath, the words inaudible but the tone abundantly clear.

"He's been released under his own recognizance and Amelia told me she's ordered her Aurors to ignore any idiot who tries to start a panic about him, and that there will be a notice in today's Prophet announcing all this. Which hopefully will keep the more foolish members of society from raising trouble. But who knows? If I were him I'd probably stay out of sight until his trial acquits him officially, just in case. It's likely he, and probably Remus, will turn up here at some point to visit Harry, so don't be surprised if that occurs." She looked around at them all, getting nods from everyone, except Severus, upon whom her eyes stopped. "That includes you, Severus. What Filius said about James Potter applies to both Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Leave the past where it lies, and move on. Act your age, for the sake of all of us, will you please?"

With ill grace, and something of a sneer that didn't quite dare to become fully visible, he nodded once. She chose to accept that and carried on.

"In that case, I think we need to get to work and stand by for the incipient upheaval that's certainly going to strike very shortly. Everyone is to keep a weather eye out for any examples of people trying their luck at causing trouble, or indeed provoking others into doing something unfortunate. I will be laying out the new order at breakfast in…" She looked at the small folding travel clock on her desk, a much treasured gift from a long-dead friend in the RAF during the war, then continued, "...twenty minutes. Every order Umbridge inflicted on us has been rescinded, the previous rules are now in force again, and I will not tolerate anyone even attempting to bring back anything that odious hag felt was a good idea. The Minister has, via Amelia, confirmed that the Ministry will not interfere as we get the school back into shape." She looked at Argus Filch, who had been listening impassively.

"Argus, don't go overboard, but should you come across a misguided student who seems to be working under the misapprehension that bullying others is a valid method to settle differences, be a dear and make entirely certain that this attitude is rectified immediately, will you?," she requested sweetly, giving him a somewhat feline grin that was slowly returned.

"Aye, I think I can probably arrange that," he replied in a gravelly but somewhat amused voice.

"If you have any trouble, let me know, and I will gladly help," she added with a dark smile. "I have had my fill of certain people lording it over everyone, and I think it's just about time for reality to intrude rather abruptly on some individuals." Minerva glanced at Severus, raising an eyebrow meaningfully. He gritted his teeth, but nodded again.

"Until Dumbledore returns, as his Deputy I am going to make sure that when he does he returns to a Hogwarts that is running smoothly and quietly whether it likes it or not," she finished, standing up. "Thank you all for attending. We'll speak again at the end of the day, and hopefully the castle will still be standing by then. Good luck, everyone, I can't help feeling we're going to need it…"

The assembled staff all rose, and filed out. She tapped Severus on the shoulder as he was about to leave, drawing him aside. Filius looked over his shoulder and she silently shook her head, getting a nod back, then as the last one out he closed the door behind him.

"I know how difficult your house is to control, Severus," she said quietly, as the Potions Master studied her impassively. "Even under normal circumstances. Which recently we certainly haven't enjoyed, and I fear things will be even more chaotic in the near future. But I trust I can count on you to do your best, even under trying conditions?"

He returned her gaze, then looked down at his left arm for a second, his right hand almost unconsciously massaging it. Meeting her eyes again, he replied, sounding almost tired, "I will do what I can, Minerva. I won't make promises I can't be sure I can keep though. I've been there before."

"I know. Just do what you can. And for Merlin's sake, put your feelings about the Potters, Black, and Lupin aside and act as the professional I know you can be, will you? It helps no one, least of all yourself, to see you taking out long-past grudges on someone entirely innocent of the ire you show." She made sure he got the point, receiving a sullen nod back as he didn't quite return her gaze. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she smiled at him.

"Good lad. I know you can do it."

Her grip tightened, and she pulled him closer, even as he winced. "I know this because if you disappoint me under the current circumstances, you will find cause to regret it, I promise you," she hissed, their faces nearly touching. "Do not test me, Severus Snape. I am not Albus Dumbledore and I have little time for fools while I'm trying to repair the damage certain not-at-all-missed people have left behind them. Am I clear?" If her smile had sharper teeth than strictly speaking correct for a human as she let out a little of the inner feline, he didn't seem prepared to mention this, he merely paled slightly.

"You are perfectly clear, Minerva," he replied after a second or two.

"Excellent," she said cheerfully, releasing him and stepping back as he staggered involuntarily. "Good man. I knew I could count on you. Let's go to breakfast and see what the tone of the day will be, shall we?" Pulling the door open she swept through, making sure her hat was properly in place on her head and feeling a certain sense of mildly vindictive amusement as he trailed along behind her wearing a slightly bewildered expression.

One took one's pleasures where one could, after all, and there had been damn few causes of such recently. Hopefully things were going to change for the better, although she was certain that would also bring a lot more trouble in the short term than was ideal. But all they could do was carry on and keep a stiff upper lip, to put it in a pithy sentence.

At least the biggest trouble facing the wizarding world was finally dealt with. After that, everything else should be much less difficult to deal with even if annoying in the extreme.

She couldn't work out why she felt a chill go down her back, but ultimately chalked it up to one of the ghosts playing silly buggers again and strode onwards, mentally rehearsing the short speech she would have to give as Acting Headmistress in front of the student body. It was likely to be somewhat contentious, she feared, but that was life.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Coming to a state of wakefulness instantly from a deep and somewhat troubled sleep, filled with odd dreams and something massive watching her with pride, while innumerable tiny things that somehow formed a whole even bigger than the massive thing surrounded both of them in a protective embrace, Taylor wondered for an instant why she could feel something not a dream holding her. Then as she remembered, and her external eyes and other senses reported, she smiled faintly at Luna, who was still sleeping. The petite blonde had apparently been hugging her the entire night, which she felt should be weird, but somehow… wasn't.

Taylor was distinctly impressed with Luna Lovegood. It took real bravery to get this close to someone you'd only met hours before under very difficult and dangerous circumstances, especially when you knew beyond doubt that the person in question didn't even need to move to kill everyone in the room.

Then kill the building the room was in…

But Luna hadn't hesitated. Harry and Hermione had become less worried quite fast, she'd noticed, but the blonde girl hadn't really shown any fear right from the beginning. If anything she was fascinated by Taylor and her abilities, and Taylor found that kind of funny as well as admirable.

And there was no denying that the girl had helped last night. When Taylor let go of her emotional shunt, the feedback was typically fairly unpleasant. After what she'd had to do having been dragged into this world, it was a lot more than just unpleasant.

She shuddered slightly as she recalled that moment, and felt Luna's embrace tighten a little at the motion. It made her smile again.

Feeling, on the whole, surprisingly well rested despite everything, Taylor lay still and let Luna sleep while she checked in with her swarms. Looking around the neighborhood, she watched as the Guildford morning traffic moved about, the street Hermione's house was on fairly quiet but further away quite a lot of people going about their business. She thought it looked a bit weird, realizing after a few seconds this wasn't just because of everyone driving on the wrong side of the road. The main way this place differed from home was in how it was so peaceful. No one was running around shooting at someone else, there were no signs of cape battles, nothing was on fire, no streets had buildings collapsed across them, and possibly most important of all, there were no swastikas and other Nazi symbology spray-painted onto things. Not a single one she could see, although she did find other graffiti, some of it remarkably artistic, here and there.

Taylor very much did not like Nazis, and seeing the way they were apparently not a thing here was not only rather strange, but very satisfying somehow. Even though she'd found out there were the magical equivalent, it couldn't change the fact that the UK, at least in this world, seemed to be quite the improvement on Brockton Bay. She wondered if the same was true in her world, and resolved to see if she could find out when she got back.

Nevertheless, and despite meeting some interesting people she was fairly sure were friends by this point, and looting the Department of Mysteries basement of anything that would hold still long enough, this wasn't home. She missed her dad, and her other friends, and for reasons she couldn't articulate but were quite deep in her mind, her city. It was a shithole, yes, but it was the shithole she'd been born in, the one her mom had died in, and the one she had plans on how to fix.

And now, thanks to this little adventure, some interesting options on how to go about that…

Not to mention that she felt quite satisfied that she'd helped reduce the magical Nazi issue here by a fair margin, too. All in all, so far things were working out fairly well, but she was going to be quite irked if Dumbledore and his people didn't figure out a way to get her back where she came from. Mind you, she'd absorbed enough information the previous day, and had a lot more to go through in her belt of holding, that worst case she could probably work it out for herself sooner or later.

How hard could it be?

Her rueful grin was unnoticed in the semi-dark of the room. Keeping watch, just in case, she dozed lightly for another hour or so until Luna finally stirred, the sounds of Hermione's parents getting up and heading downstairs heralding the the fact it was probably time to face the day.

The girl next to her made a muffled noise into the pillow where her head was pressed, sneezed, and shot upright as if electrocuted, only to find her left arm trapped under Taylor where she'd put it the night before. The end result was that she yelped in surprise, then collapsed half-lying on the taller girl, who couldn't stop herself laughing. A silvery-blue eye peered out at her from under a mass of blonde hair, proving that Luna suffered from nasty bed-head if nothing else.

"Hello," the girl said calmly, carefully extracting her arm then sitting up more slowly and successfully.

"Hi," Taylor snickered. "And good morning."

"Quite," Luna smiled. Her smile slipped a little and she looked momentarily embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I presumed, perhaps I shouldn't have…" Making a vague motion at the bed, she smiled again when Taylor shook her head, gripping one wrist in her own hand and gently squeezing it for a second.

"No, don't worry. It was a surprise, but to be honest you really did help. Thank you."

Luna's smile widened brilliantly. "You're very welcome, Taylor."

Releasing her, Taylor also sat up, then ran her hands through her hair, which was something of a mess. Luckily she had a method to deal with that which didn't require a comb. Luna's eyes widened as half a dozen pixies flew in through the partly open window and landed on Taylor's head, then began to quickly and efficiently fix her hair with their tiny quick hands. Taylor grinned at her dumbstruck but increasingly fascinated expression. "They're even better than spiders for hair care, and don't creep people out so much," she said.

"Spiders?" Luna echoed quizzically.

"Spiders," Taylor confirmed, as one of her new favorite arachnids faded into view on top of her head. Luna's expression was hilarious as the thing waved one leg at her, then vanished again.

After a couple of stunned seconds, the blonde fell over laughing her ass off, making Taylor chuckle. "Oh, poor Ronald, he would absolutely faint if he ever saw that," Luna finally gasped when she ran out of laughter, lying flat on her back with her hands over her stomach. "He really doesn't like spiders at all, you see," she added, raising her head to look at Taylor.

"Some people are weird like that," Taylor agreed. It was odd, but it was definitely a thing.

Seeing how Luna was gazing at the pixies, she had one fly over to hover in front of her. The other girl held out a finger, and the little creature landed on it, making her giggle. Carefully she transferred it to her own head, where it set about dealing with her tangles too. More came in through the window and joined the first one. As both of them were sitting there grinning at each other, a knock on the door was followed by Hermione sticking her head through. "Are you two ready for… What on earth?" She stared in incredulity as Luna waved gaily. Taylor had all the pixies do the same in sync, which was a nice effect and made the brunette gape, then shake her head in respectful amazement.

"That is… bizarre," Hermione commented, but she didn't seem to mean it in anything like an insulting manner. Behind her, Harry peered in, then he started laughing.

"It works really well and they're so careful," Luna exclaimed happily.

"Clearly hair care routines on your world are somewhat less ordinary than they are here," Hermione remarked with a certain amount of mild sarcasm. "Most people, even wizards and witches, use a comb…"

"Combs are so twentieth century," Taylor replied calmly, meeting the other girl's amused gaze.

"I shall have to talk to you about the future, assuming yours bears any relationship to ours," Hermione said. "Anyway, that aside, I was just about to say that Mum and Dad are making breakfast, and it'll be ready in about twenty minutes. That's enough time for a shower if you hurry."

"Ooh. I've never used a non-magical shower!" Luna hopped to her feet looking interested. "This has been ever such an interesting visit, Hermione. Thank you. I've always wondered what the non-magical world was like but I never had a chance to visit."

"Aside from the lack of magic it's fairly similar," Harry put in from behind Hermione, peering over her head at the other two. "Better, in some ways, if I'm completely honest. There's certainly a lot fewer people trying to kill me here."

"I've got far more than I need back home," Taylor said with a grin. "I can lend you some if you want."

"I feel I can make do without, thanks," he told her with a chuckle, although she could see he was genuinely happy that his main problems had evaporated last night. He looked a lot less stressed and far less tired than he'd done at three AM too, which was entirely unsurprising. At that point he'd been dead on his feet, and no one else had been much better.

"Fair enough," she said, grinning. For some reason she felt emotionally much lighter, as if a great weight had vanished from her mind. Partly it was the sleep, she was sure, and partly it was all the new things she'd learned, but a lot of it was probably down to her deciding to hell with it last night and just unloading on a sympathetic audience with no connection to anyone at home. It had been oddly cathartic, she mused. But… "I'm sorry about dumping all that information on you guys last night," she said apologetically. "I know it was a lot to take in at once."

"We asked, and you answered," Hermione assured her, shaking her head. "Mum and Dad needed to know what they were getting into by letting us all stay here too."

"I guess so," she answered, dismissing the pixies which had finished their task, then seeing Luna look disappointed, land one back on her shoulder which made her face light up. Harry noticed, examined it and the blonde, then met her eyes. She shrugged very slightly and smiled for a moment. He just nodded, looking pleased.

She was pretty sure he was very fond of the girl, and Hermione too. They were obviously close friends if nothing else.

Standing, she grabbed the towel Mrs Granger had given her the night before, and handed the other one to Luna, who accepted it with a smile. She also took the toothbrush she'd been given. "Shower, then food, that does sound like a good idea," she said.

Hermione and Harry stood aside as the pair exited the room. "Luna, come with me, I'll show you how everything works," the former said, before looking at Taylor. "I assume you already know how twentieth century plumbing functions?" she asked archly, causing Taylor to grin.

"I can work it out, primitive as it probably is," she assured the other girl, who giggled. Shortly she was removing the grime and sweat from the day before, and felt a lot cleaner and quite relaxed afterwards. She decided for now not to bother with her costume as it really needed a good clean too, but luckily it was machine washable, and she had her fyre which easily formed a perfectly serviceable set of clothes that looked just like real cloth, leaving aside how they could kill you with a thought…

And ten minutes after that, she was sitting at the table downstairs where Mr Granger had directed her, between Luna and Hermione, with Harry on the other side beside both Granger parents. There was enough food on the table to more than satisfy them all, and Mr Granger just nodded to it and said, "Help yourselves, please."

All of them being ravenous, they set to with a will, as did the two adults, who exchanged glances now and then. No one really said anything for a while as they ate, although Mr Granger murmured something to his wife that Taylor deliberately didn't listen to, then got up to go into the kitchen. Shortly she could smell coffee being made.

Eventually, though, she decided to break the silence herself. "I've already said it to these guys, but I'm sorry about dropping all that on you last night," she said, looking at Hermione's parents. "I've been thinking about it and I guess I was just looking for someone to listen. It was a… well, it was a shitty day on top of a shitty couple of weeks, if I'm truthful. Once I started it was kind of hard to stop."

They exchanged a look, then Mrs Granger leaned forward a little. "We understand, Taylor. By the sound of it you've had a lot of things in your life for far too long that you needed to get off your chest. And finding yourself in such an unexpected situation certainly was as good an excuse as anything I can think of for unusual behavior."

The girl nodded tiredly. "That didn't help, no," she admitted. Hermione put her hand on her arm and when she looked at the other brunette, gave her a sympathetic smile.

"But you save all of us, and probably the wizarding world at least," Hermione put in. "If not the entire country, because I doubt Riddle would have been content with just magical Britain. That type is never satisfied, it's why they are that type."

"Yeah, I guess so," Taylor nodded. "We've got them at home too." After a moment's thought, she added under her breath, "I may have to do something about that…"

Luna made a small sound that seemed to convey amusement but didn't say anything, and Harry was looking like he was trying not to smile.

"Well here and now, Jen and I both thank you for saving our daughter and her friends," Mr Granger added firmly. "Regardless of your status in your own world, you did a good thing in this one, and by the sound of it did something the people who should be fixing problems like that couldn't manage. Which is utterly ridiculous. How could they possibly have let it get to that state? Our non-magical government has its problems, believe me, but the magical one sounds like it makes them look the pinnacle of competence and intelligence…" He didn't look happy.

"To be fair, dad, they're a very, very small group to have an actual government," Hermione noted with a frown. "Although with how large a percentage of the adult wizarding world works in one way or another for that government, you'd think just sheer chance would put some competent people in places they'd do the most good… Unfortunately other than Madam Bones, I can't immediately think of one."

"Ron's dad, maybe?" Harry pointed out. "He's a decent fellow, and not stupid by any means."

Hermione gave him a look. "He also appears not to know how anything he's allegedly in charge of dealing with actually works, remember. He still doesn't know what a rubber duck is for. I tried explaining and I honestly think he thought I was pulling his leg. And the less said about how he thinks modern technology works the better. Director Bones last night knew more about computers than Mr Weasley could possibly come up with and it was positively painful listening to her answer to Taylor." She glanced at her parents, then Taylor, before shaking her head ruefully.

"You wouldn't believe it, dad," she sighed. "Sometimes I genuinely wonder if magic does something to your brain. The number of wizards who have the first clue about the non-magical world is probably in low single digit percentages, and most of those are like me, coming in from outside. Or Harry, but he's a special case anyway."

The black-haired boy looked both amused and annoyed. "Much as I wish I wasn't," he mumbled, making smile at him.

"They seem to go out of their way to avoid learning anything, and it's not just the 'purebloods,' she continued, looking back to her parents who were listening with interest and a somewhat bemused expression each. "Some of the things we heard last night were positively bizarre. And although the people Taylor… dealt with… were the worst of the worst, there are quite a lot still running around being horrible to anyone who doesn't meet their… standards." Her voice was filled with disgust.

"You've alluded to some of this before, dear, but you never opened up so much before," her mother said, appearing intrigued but also worried. "What brought all this on?"

Hermione waved her fork irritably as everyone listened and watched. "I'm not sure. Perhaps Taylor's openness is catching. Or it might just be the sheer… stupidity… of everything that's happened this year. Even by Hogwarts standards that foul woman was awful, and the things she did… Torturing people. Torturing my friends." She sounded coldly furious and Taylor was impressed. Harry was starting to look a touch concerned, while Luna was simply sitting there quietly listening, although Taylor could easily see the tension in her body even with just her human eyes.

"Torturing people?" Mr Granger said very carefully, his lips thinning a little. "Explain if you would."

Hermione was so miffed she didn't seem to pick up on just how dangerous his voice sounded, but Taylor certainly did. She'd heard that exact same tone from her dad several times, often under circumstances that resulted in sirens and people very much wishing they'd decided on another course of action…

The bushy-haired girl, lost in her own annoyance, began her own form of information dump, which quickly had both her parents looking like they were contemplating murder, Harry staring at his plate with his fork gripped so tightly in his hand it had bent, and Luna slipping her hand into Taylor's and holding it for some reason. Taylor glanced at her, met her sad eyes, and didn't say anything.

"I know what a basilisk is, Harry, you don't need to explain. I've read enough mythology to get a very good idea of the danger."

"Months. You were on a hospital bed for months and no one told us."

"A troll. In a girls bathroom."

"I see. I can recognize a test when I hear about it, and I do not like the idea of what was being tested…"

"No trial. Is that common in the wizarding world, or are they just special that way?"

"A prison full of literal soul sucking demons and that's seen as all right, is it?"

"How on earth can a contract possibly be valid if one party didn't assent to it?"

"Nesting bloody dragons?! Those people are insane!"

Such comments and more came from one or other parent, who were looking more and more furious. Eventually Mr Granger held up his hand. "Enough. Hermione, this is all true? You're not, well, exaggerating for effect or something?"

She glared at him, with her arms crossed over her chest as she'd been for a while now. "Do I ever exaggerate anything, dad?"

"No. No, I have to admit even as a small child you tended to be brutally honest about most things," he sighed. "Good god. How are there any wizards left if they do this sort of thing?"

"Luck, probably," Harry grunted, looking nearly as angry as Hermione was.

"And just why did you never see fit to mention any of this before, may I ask?" Mrs Granger queried with a dangerous note in her voice and a glint in her eye as she examined her daughter. Hermione opened her mouth to reply, paused, then closed it slowly, her expression becoming somewhat confused. She exchanged a look with Harry, then Luna, both of whom were also wearing rather puzzled faces.

"I… am not sure," she finally replied, in a rather subdued manner and looking pensive. "I meant to. Oh, yes, I was planning on downplaying the worst of it because I didn't want to worry you…" She gave them a guilty look, which made both parents sigh in a very synchronized way, "And because I didn't want to lose the friends I'd made, but… I never intended to keep it completely a secret. You deserved to know. Why didn't I tell you?" The girl was clearly thinking very hard.

"Even if you didn't write a letter, you could have mentioned it at any time you came home over the years, but we never heard a word about any of this," her father commented.

"I know. That's… there's something very odd with all of this." Hermione looked at Harry, then Luna. "Did you mention any of this to your father, Luna? I know Harry told Sirius some of it because I was there, but he certainly had no reason to tell those idiot Dursleys anything at all."

Luna had been appearing thoughtful for a while now, and shook her head slowly. "No. I find that odd now you mention it because Daddy would certainly have run some fascinating stories in the Quibbler about all this. He'd love to hear about the basilisk, for example. Perhaps you could tell him something, Harry?" She looked at the boy, who seemed almost amused, then disappeared back into her own thoughts for a moment. "But it's very strange. Now I think about it why didn't anyone tell people outside the school about any of the peculiar things that have been going on? I've certainly never seen anything about any of it in the Prophet and you know what they're like. They come up with silly stories without even needing a reason, so if they had something real I'd have expected someone to be asking questions constantly…"

"The only time they printed anything about Hogwarts it was rubbish about Harry," Hermione remarked acidly. "Or me. Nothing about the actual newsworthy things. I can't help feeling that someone is playing a very dangerous game, and I can only think of one person with the motive, the means, and the method."

"Dumbledore," Harry finished for her, getting a nod back. He didn't look remotely happy about his conclusion, which was fair enough in Taylor's opinion. She'd been following all this and correlating it with the things she'd heard yesterday, and all the information her swarm had read. It seemed to her that he was likely right, and Hermione had also worked that out.

"How?" Luna asked.

"That part I don't know yet, but I'm going to work it out," Hermione muttered, staring at her empty plate and almost visibly thinking.

"I believe I may need a word with your headmaster," Mr Granger remarked in a deceptively mild voice as he stood and started collecting the plates. "And this Director Bones. I can't help feeling that a school is not the sort of place regular life-threatening events should be happening in, and my daughter being involved in such things does not fill me with joy and calmness." Taylor could see a muscle jumping in his cheek but he was doing a very good job of concealing what she strongly suspected was extreme anger.

She got the impression that her own dad and Mr Granger would have bonded quite happily over past injustices and the requirement to prevent future ones, possibly via means of something sharp or heavy…

Then she recalled that both of Hermione's parents were dentists, and wondered just how much damage you could do with a dental pick and enough viciousness.

It was an interesting thought. Perhaps she'd get to see a practical experiment on the subject.

Mrs Granger also rose, walked around the table, heaved Hermione to her feet, and hugged her hard enough to make her squeak. "You're not going back to that school until we get to the bottom of all this," she said entirely calmly but in a tone of voice that made it clear she damn well meant it. Hermione opened her mouth to reply, spotted the look in her mother's eyes, and wisely decided that silence was a good option at this point. The older woman looked at Harry, and added, "Neither are you, Harry. You're welcome to stay here, from what Hermione said your guardians are disgusting people in any case and I doubt they'd care, but I can't in all good consciousness allow a fifteen year old back into that environment without some very solid guarantees of safety from someone trustworthy. Which I strongly suspect does not include Mr Dumbledore, regardless of his true motivations."

Harry appeared stunned, but slowly nodded. "Thank you, Mrs Granger."

"You're welcome, Harry. And my name is Jennifer." She smiled at him. Turning to Luna who was watching with interest, she added, "I can't speak for your father, but if you'd like us to talk to him and make sure he's aware of everything that's been discussed, it would be our pleasure."

The girl thought for a moment, then sighed a little. "That may help, thank you. I wasn't looking forward to telling him what happened last night." Taylor squeezed her hand, then got up to help clear the table, feeling it was a nice thing to do after a very good breakfast. Harry and Luna moved to do likewise while Hermione had a whispered conversation with her mother in the corner, which resulted in them hugging each other again.

Just as they were finishing up, one of Taylor's patrolling groups high above the street noticed something. She quickly set up a perimeter just in case, bringing in some more dangerous creatures and blanketing the entire neighborhood in eyes and other senses, then turned to the others. "We're about to get a visit," she announced, putting a stack of plates next to the sink.

"Oh?" Mr Granger asked, looking at her with interest, then at the hallway to the front door.

"Director Bones just teleported in down the street with one of her people with her," Taylor replied. Hermione, Luna, and Harry exchanged glances. "She looks ready to drop, but she's stomping along like a woman on a mission. The other guy seems worried."

"Honestly, I'd be surprised if he wasn't worried based on what you told us last night," Mrs Granger said, appearing slightly amused.

"She should be worried, if I'm entirely honest," Mr Granger, or Michael as he'd told them to call him, growled. He dried his hands on a cloth, then headed to the hall. "Dear, is my shotgun cleaned?" he asked over his shoulder.

"You don't have a shotgun, you twit," his wife snorted. He gave her a quick grin, as Taylor and Harry laughed. Taylor made a quick decision and reformed her costume out of fyre, finding it easy, and chuckled at the awed look Hermione and the others got. Luna inspected her closely then smiled.

"I may need to get one," the man muttered. "With some anti-wizard rounds."

Taylor and the others followed as he walked up to the front door, paused, then yanked it open when she nodded. "Director Bones, I presume?" he said pleasantly to the woman who had just reached out for the doorbell, and was standing there looking somewhat startled. "Please come in. I think we have quite a lot of things to discuss. At length."

The DMLE woman sighed, visibly pulled herself erect, and walked into the Granger house. The magical cop accompanying her, who was looking at Taylor with a distinct air of wishing very strongly he was somewhere else, followed. The door closed.

The shouting began quite soon after that.