Disclaimer: never did and never will own it. J.K. Rowling does.
Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix

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~ The Power Of A Squib - Battles ~

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Hermione didn’t answer, Elena’s words still not registering. They have been captured. Severus and Argus have been captured.

“I managed to escape only because they didn’t really care for me.”

“You were under Cruciatus,” Hermione objected weakly.

“It wasn’t meant for me. Argus was carrying me in his shirt, as he sometimes does… did. When they hit him with Cruciatus, I was hit too. The same goes for this bruise,” she said, touching delicately the swollen mark on her temple. “I fell with him and well, I sort of cushioned his fall.”

“Where are they? How many are they?” asked Hermione feverishly while getting dressed.

“Five at least. There’s this zealot of Bellatrix Lestrange, Goyle, even though he doesn’t seem very enthusiastic–”

“Alright. Give me two minutes and I will be back.”

Elena stopped her gently, her hand light on the younger witch’s arm.

“Hermione, once again, you’re too trusting. I could be leading you into a trap. I could be working for the Death Eaters.”

“Elena, yes, it’s true, you could be all this. But then you wouldn’t have told me and I won’t begin the vicious circle of ‘But I could tell you because I know you would be thinking that I wouldn’t tell you unless I meant it’ because it won’t lead us anywhere. One thing I know is that the worry in your eyes and voice for Severus and Argus is genuine. And if my life is all they need to be free, then why should I be bargaining for it?”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe. Just expect Crookshanks to make your life a living Hell if you’re trying to trap me, that’s all.”

Shaking her head, Elena could only conclude that Hermione was hiding her concern by using a very tasteless humour. Any other reason would have been scary.

Hermione was back several minutes later, looking grim, carrying a shining and silvery cloth on her arm.

“Invisibility Cloak? But–”

“I’m no Animagus, Elena, and being invisible could be useful. Let’s go.”

They were already outside Hogwarts when Elena squirmed a little.

“I can’t Apparate with you,” she finally said, looking ashamed at her admittance.

“I know that,” replied Hermione testily. “Just tell me where we are going.”

“North Scotland, near Inverness. Actually, it’s on Culloden Moor. There’s a cairn there.”

“The memorial cairn?”

“Yes. In fact, it has been used regularly as a meeting place by Death Eaters. They created a maze of underground passages and that’s where Argus and Severus are kept.”

“And it’s protected with anti-Apparating wards, I guess?” grumbled Hermione.

“Ah well, um, I may have done something about that…” admitted Elena with a crooked smile.

“Why aren’t they escaping then?”

“Because they did cast an anti-Apparating spell on the cells.”

“Alright! Everybody ready, then?”

“Everybody?” asked Elena, startled, clutching her wand tightly.

“Blimey, Hermione, how did you know we were here?” muttered Harry, stepping out of the darkness.

She rolled her eyes.

“Be serious, Harry. As if you would have accepted to lend me your cloak had you not intended to come all along. You’re lucky Elena was too out of her mind to pay attention at all the noise you were making; normally she would have blasted you. Blaise, don’t remain hidden, I know you’re here also.”

“Care to tell us anything?” asked Ron casually.

“Elena, here are my meddlesome friends, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Blaise Zabini. Guys, this is Elena.”

“And where exactly are we going?”

Elena couldn’t utter a word. They didn’t know why they were here, but still they were determined, just because Hermione was.

“Bellatrix Lestrange,” said Hermione tightly.

“I’m with you.”

“Culloden Moor, the memorial cairn. Ready to Apparate?”


~*~


Later, they would think themselves lucky that the Death Eaters were so full of themselves that they hadn’t even bothered to secure the surroundings of their hideout. The ‘pops’ of Apparating sounded very loud in the quiet night. Elena took the lead, even though she had qualms about turning into Mrs. Norris under the incredulous eyes of Harry, Ron and Blaise. Harry and Ron paled visibly while Blaise whistled softly.

“Wow…”

“Guys, if you ever breathe a single word about this, I’ll hunt you down,” threatened Hermione.

“Of course, Hermione,” replied Ron meekly, Harry being still unable to speak.

Elena hissed softly and they all fell quiet. She brushed her nose against the inscription on the memorial cairn and disappeared. Without any hesitation, Hermione imitated her. The three boys didn’t move for a brief moment; they had no trust at all in Mrs. Norris. Then Blaise shoved them aside and said roughly:

“What the Hell, I promised I’d keep an eye on her.”

He touched the inscription and disappeared. Harry and Ron looked at each other and had the same thought: a Slytherin braver than two Gryffindors? No way! Blaise’s smirk when they arrived only seconds after him was more than irritating. They all hid under the Invisibility Cloak – and Hermione wondered how it could still fit four almost-adults when it has already been stretched for three children – and followed Elena silently, not even protesting in case of a bruised foot or kicked leg.

They passed near a Death Eater lounging against a wall with a bored expression on his face.

“Goyle,” whispered Blaise in Hermione’s ear.

She nodded slowly; indeed, Elena had been right when she had said that he didn’t seem very enthusiastic. His eyes lit up when seeing the dust-coloured cat trying to pass in front of him inconspicuously. He squatted down and extended his hand toward the cat.

“Hello, little one,” he murmured, his voice surprisingly soft. “I almost thought you wouldn’t come back for your master. You would be Filch’s cat, wouldn’t you?”

Elena hissed and arched her back, fur bristled. Goyle had a low chuckle.

“Touchy, huh? Well, little girl, Filch is alone right now. Dear Bella is playing with Snape. If you play your cards well, you could manage to steal one caress or two before Bella remembers about Filch’s existence. I would hurry if I were you, because she doesn’t intent to be tender with him. Whole thing is silly in my opinion, but nobody ever asks for my opinion,” he added with a wry smile, “so I doubt you will be interested in it.”

Elena sat, wrapping her tail around her hinder legs, and cocked her head, her lamp-like eyes fixed on him.

“So you would care? I tell you, little cat, if you want, you can stay with me… afterwards. I would treat you good. It would be a welcome change from Bella’s folly and Weasley’s stuffiness.”

At the mention of ‘Weasley’, Ron went rigid. There was only one Weasley who could deserve the word ‘stuffiness’ and it was Percy.

“Blood traitors, all of them, the Weasleys, but then, he never liked Filch or Snape. Other than that, I’m not sure that he subscribes at the Dark Lord’s ideas. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, since Bella only lives for revenge.”

Elena butted her head against the offered palm and Goyle smiled.

“Be careful, sweetie, Travers and Wormtail are on the prowl. That makes the five of us. Is it all you needed from me, little cat?”

Elena’s tail twitched slightly but she only replied with an innocent gaze. Goyle chuckled and scratched behind her ears affectionately.

“Don’t try to fool me, girl. Go save your master, I won’t be standing in your way. And if you want to take Bella down, please do, it would make me feel a lot better.”

Silently, Elena and her hidden followers left the large wizard, who was wearing a definitely odd smile on his lips.


~*~


Everything Goyle had said was true. The little group crossed the path of Travers, who was incapacitated by Blaise before he could even figure out that he wasn’t alone. The young Slytherin kicked him in the ribs and Hermione had to drag him away before he spat on the unconscious Death Eater.

“That’s for Electra and her family!”

“Electra?”

“Electra McKinnon. Travers took a fierce pleasure in assassinating her and her family. She was a cousin of mine. Pure-blood and such, so it’s normal she somehow belonged to my family.”

“There was a Marlene McKinnon who was a member of the Order of the Phoenix,” remembered Harry.

Blaise’s eyes flashed.

“Yes, well, some Slytherins aren’t bad and don’t follow the Dark Lord’s every whim!”

“Hush!” intervened Ron. “Do you really want to get caught?”

Still led by Elena, they soon heard a whiney voice:

“I know they are here, Mistress. Travers is nowhere to be found, the boy found you, Mistress!”

“Stop snivelling, Wormtail,” said someone pompously and Ron paled when hearing him. “It’s a shame you survived when others, much more deserving, received the Dementor’s Kiss for their devotion to the Dark Lord.”

“Well said, my pet,” intervened a third person and nobody had any difficulty to recognise Bellatrix Lestrange.

Elena turned into her human shape and looked toward the others. Hermione stepped out of the Invisibility Cloak.

“Are we sure we can trust what Goyle told me?”

“He doesn’t like Bellatrix.”

They all entered the room at the same time and Bellatrix smirked at them, her wand pointed at Severus’s throat.

“Just in time for the festivities to begin!”

Wormtail shivered under the hateful gazes. Percy shrugged carelessly. In a dark corner of the room, was Argus, with chains on his wrists and ankles. Bellatrix noticed the eyes of the newcomers flickering to the caretaker.

“Wormtail brought him to me as soon as he told me that Travers was missing. Of course, even if he were free, he wouldn’t be of any help to you. He’s a miserable Squib.”

“You mean you wouldn’t dare to face him on the same level,” replied Hermione scornfully.

Bellatrix lost her mind and shrieked, aiming her wand at her. Everything happened very quickly: Percy threw something to Argus, who caught it awkwardly, and cast a spell to make his chains disappeared. Wormtail squealed in terror, turned into a rat and tried to escape. Immediately, Elena was back into a cat and pinned him on the ground, her sharp claws buried in his fur. Harry and Ron both hurled spells in Bellatrix’s direction, diverting her attention from Hermione, who was trying to free Severus. They had almost succeeded in taking down the Death Eaters – Bellatrix proving to be singularly even more powerful than they had originally planned – when suddenly their wands were wrenched from their hands. They turned around to see a smirking wizard holding the wands in his hand, his own wand negligently twirling between his fingers.

“About time,” hissed Bellatrix, stepping toward him, her hand extended to retrieve her wand.

To her surprise, he held it out of her reach and looked around to assess the situation, seemingly thoroughly bored.

“You were almost overcome by children?” he said with disgust.

“Rookwood, this is not the time!” rasped Bellatrix, her face twisting in anger. “Give me back my wand!”

Augustus Rookwood, notorious Death Eater and quite able to defeat Bellatrix on his own, didn’t pay her any attention and looked at his prisoners without real interest. Percy had crossed his arms on his chest, looking quite smug, though he would have been hard put to tell why he was feeling so. Hermione noticed that nobody was looking at Elena – except Argus, who was doing his best not to show he was staring at the skinny cat – and that, from the look of it, Wormtail wouldn’t be a threat any time soon.

Desperately, Hermione glanced around, hoping to find something to distract Bellatrix and Rookwood from their bickering. She caught sight of the chains that Percy had taken off Argus only moments earlier and had an idea. She concentrated hard, her hands closing into fists, nails driving into the flesh of her palms, wishing, willing¸ and a very soft rattle was heard Neither Bellatrix nor Rookwood heard it, since they weren’t listening for it, but it caught the attention of both Severus and Argus. Harry, Ron and Blaise were too busy watching the two Death Eaters like hawks to be aware of their surroundings, though Blaise glanced briefly toward his Potions teacher as he moved quietly by Hermione’s side.

The young witch didn’t even start when a strong arm slid around her waist.

“Ready?” he murmured in her ear, his hot breath caressing her cheek. “Three… two… one…”

They both concentrated on the chains, while Argus observed them with envy, wishing he could help them. Instead he readied himself for physical assault: he knew for quite a long time that arrogant pure-bloods like Bellatrix would never expect such a move and wouldn’t know how to respond since they despised all things Muggle.

The chains rattled against the floor, making a very audible clang. Bellatrix and Rookwood swirled around, turning their back to Elena, wands at the ready, since Rookwood had finally accepted to give it back to Bellatrix. As soon as he turned on his heels, Rookwood felt sharp claws digging in his back and then a heavier weight forced him to hunch his shoulders as a hateful voice whispered in his ear:

“Remember me, Augustus?”

“Elena!” he gasped, his voice suddenly hoarse as the tip of her wand sank into the flesh of his throat.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten me… It warms my heart, truly.”

During this time, Harry and Argus had both jumped on Bellatrix, each surprised of the other’s intervention, and were trying to control her and take hold of her wand. The witch was struggling madly, shouting spells only half-way, for Argus’s hand had found its way to her throat. Blaise had lunged on Rookwood, grabbing the wands and wrenching them from his grasp. As for Ron and Percy, they were keeping an eye on Peter, who was moaning pitifully. All in all, it was utter chaos.


~*~


Someone stumbled in the room at the same moment Blaise looked away from Rookwood and the young Slytherin’s face grew dark in hatred.

“Travers!” he hissed.

He made one step forward and found himself face to face with Bellatrix’s wand. Behind her were Harry and Argus’s bodies, apparently not breathing anymore. Elena was still duelling with Rookwood, who, if he had given up the stolen wands, had not relinquished his hold on his own. Bellatrix grinned maniacally.

“A Zabini! What a surprise! I should have known that a sorcerer like you would end up being a blood traitor! You’re not worth the name wizard!”

“Because a murderess like you is worthy of being a witch?” replied Blaise with a snort. “Look around you and see what is like a real w–”

He suddenly noticed that Severus and Hermione had disappeared from his field of vision. He fought back the bubbling panic threatening to raise its ugly head. Severus would not abandon him like this! And Hermione wouldn’t either! She would rather die for her friends than step back to safety! He brought back his gaze to Bellatrix, only to find the tip of her wand pressed on his brow, just between his eyes.

“This ends here,” she said softly. “Good-bye, Zabini.”

Blaise clenched his teeth, refusing to close his eyes in front of his imminent death and so he was genuinely startled when she collapsed in front of him without a word. He looked up at Severus who was cradling his right hand in his left, gently rubbing his knuckles.

“I’ve wanted to do that for far too long. The only thing I regret is that I couldn’t break her nose.”

“You have to leave something for Harry,” replied Hermione lightly.

Now free from Bellatrix, Blaise was ready to face Travers, only to find that Ron had preceded him and was busy throwing curse after curse. Snarling, the young Slytherin pushed the Gryffindor aside. As long as Travers was concerned, there was no more friendship for Blaise.

Severus bent down to retrieve the wands and yelped against his will as a curse from Travers hit him in the face. Hermione, full of righteous anger, grabbed her wand and was ready to fire a jinx at the Death Eater when she saw Goyle coming silently behind Travers. The huge fist rose in the air and fell down heavily on the skull in front of it. Travers crumpled on the ground with a loud thud.

“Sorry, Zabini,” said Goyle quite apologetically, “but I think I take precedence over you.”

Blaise would have screamed of having his revenge torn from him when he was so close of his aim, but he could understand Goyle’s position and nodded weakly.

All eyes turned to the only still fighting, Elena and Rookwood. Percy was watching the scene with detachment, leaning against the wall, arms crossed on his chest, his foot on Peter’s neck, who was back into human form. The snapped wand of the pitiful Animagus was next to him and Hermione raised her eyebrows at it.

“This could bring you problems with the Ministry,” she said.

“I am the Ministry,” replied Percy arrogantly. “Fudge wouldn’t dare to sneeze without me telling him so.”

“Quiet, Weasley,” hissed Severus. “The snivelling excuse for a wizard currently under your foot is listening to every word we say and he’s not yet received the Dementor’s Kiss – provided that any Dementor would accepted to come near this.”

Elena, sent on the ground by a vicious move from Rookwood, saw Argus’s motionless body and let a heartrending cry escape her lips. She cast a quick glance toward Severus and Hermione and their stony expression confirmed her in her belief that Argus was indeed dead. With a snarl, she lunged on Rookwood, pain and weariness all forgotten as the only thing present in her mind was that Argus was dead and that she had lost everything worth living for. Rookwood was surprised by the desperate attack and quite taken off guard. He stumbled back, trying to avoid the vicious curses she was throwing so quickly he didn’t have the time to cast anything else but defending spells.


~*~


“Rookwood,” rasped a voice. “I remember…”

Hermione’s eyes turned to Harry, whose head was now on Ron’s knees. His green eyes were open, trying to focus on the blurry silhouette of the fighting Death Eater. Harry grinned with difficulty.

“I remember him grovelling in front of Voldemort, worried, frightened, and abjectly relieved when he wasn’t subjected to Cruciatus… Instead, he threw Avery to the lions…”

Rookwood jerked back when he heard Harry’s words.

“How can you remember that?” he shouted. “You weren’t there! Nobody was there but the Dark Lord and me!”

“You fool!” hissed Harry, sitting up with Ron’s help. “I was Voldemort! I heard every whining note in your voice, I saw the miserable fear in your eyes, I saw and heard everything! How could I be afraid of a worm such as you are?”

Rookwood glared at Harry, with the promise that he would get back at him later, but for the moment, he had to deal with the wild cat that was Elena Norris. Her hand snaked around his throat, her wand pressed against his temple.

“You remember, Augustus?” she whispered hoarsely. “You remember that I was a Death Eater? Of course you remember, after all, you were the one who initiated me. Do you remember the spell you made me use to torture my first Muggle? The very spell that I never wanted to cast? Well, I think that now I have found a reason and a desire to cast it… on you… How does that sound?”

Rookwood’s eyes widened; they didn’t know what was the spell Elena was talking about, but from Rookwood’s reaction, it could only be bad. He tried to jerk free, but Elena’s grip on his throat tightened, her nails feeling suddenly as sharp as the claws of her feline form. They all felt the enormous power building around Elena as she prepared to cast the spell and suddenly…

“Elena, no… This dark spell will land you in Azkaban…”

Elena’s wand felt from her fingers and the burst of power deflated suddenly. She turned around warily, almost not believing her ears, and found herself staring into Argus’s lamp-like eyes. She made a step toward him, her own eyes growing wide. Rookwood saw the opportunity and aimed his wand at her. Quick as a snake, swallowing his pain, Argus reached for his own wand and yelled:

“STUPEFY!”

Rookwood froze and fell backwards, landing on the ground with a satisfying crash. Goyle nodded approvingly at the body of his fellow Death Eater.

“Nice one, Filch,” he commented.

Quite shaken, Elena fell on her knees and reached for Argus, her fingers caressing gently his cheek. He closed his eyes, feeling exhausted and aching, and didn’t even start when Elena’s arms went around him and pulled him in her lap, where she cradled him silently.

“Is everybody alright?” asked Hermione, her voice a little too high.

“Mostly, yes,” replied Harry hoarsely. “Now can someone explain everything to me? Percy, Goyle, Blaise, Rookwood?”

Percy shrugged and cast Petrificus Totalus on Wormtail.

“Are they all unconscious?” he asked clinically.

Severus did a quick check-up and nodded affirmatively.

“Good. Now, we can talk. Because I’m afraid it’s going to be quite long and I don’t think any of us knows the whole thing.”

At that, Severus smirked smugly, but didn’t say anything. Hermione narrowed her eyes but remained silent as well.

“I’ll begin then,” continued Percy, whose pompous tone had suddenly disappeared. “First of all, contrary to your opinion for two or three years, I’m not one of the blind and stupid staff at the Ministry. Actually, I was a spy for the Order, but so secret that even not Dad and Mum knew about it. I did my best to ingratiate myself to Fudge, until I had so much influence over him that I could have taken over the reins of government without anybody noticing the difference. My second task was to infiltrate the remaining Death Eaters, as they were beginning to get quite wary of Snape. I quickly became Bellatrix Lestrange’s pet, to Pettigrew’s regret. I would have saved Snape from her clutches without your help.”

“And what about Argus?” asked Hermione aggressively.

“I don’t care a iota for Filch, Hermione,” replied Percy with arrogance.

“Well, you should! Argus is my friend and if you are my friend, then you should care for his well-fare too!”

“He’s totally unimportant,” insisted Percy in his best lecturing tone.

“If he is, then so am I. Don’t bother talking to me for as long as you hold to this idea.”

Percy shrugged, while everybody looked in stupor at Hermione.

“What?” she said crossly. “Am I not allowed to have friends?”

“Of course, Hermione, but Filch?” protested Harry.

“May I remind you that he just defeated Rookwood?” she asked loftily.

Everybody fell quiet at that.


~*~


“What about Goyle, Blaise and Rookwood and Elena?” said Ron, still squirming a bit under Hermione’s hard gaze.

Goyle smiled good-naturedly.

“I don’t like Bella. I can’t say I was very enthusiastic when the Dark Lord was there, but with him gone, I was even less enthusiastic. I don’t really appreciate lunatics.”

“But you didn’t do anything to help them!” protested Ron.

Goyle had a sly smile.

“I did something in my way, boy: I did nothing to stop the rescuers.”

“You didn’t know we were here.”

Goyle couldn’t help it and threw his head back to laugh.

“Of course, I knew, boy! I’m not as stupid as you may believe. When I stand guard, I surround myself with spells allowing me to see through invisibility spells… or Invisibility Cloaks. Just ask Elena here how she did to see the students in Hogwarts even when they were hidden under their Invisibility Cloak. I saw you and thus, I gave all the information to Elena.”

“You know Elena then?”

“I didn’t know it was her until you named her yourself, but I recognise the name. Rookwood spoke of her sometimes.”

“Which brings us to our next subject: what’s between Elena and Rookwood?”

“You are too curious, boy,” murmured Elena without looking at Harry. “Grim tales of horror are not the best to listen to.”

She looked up, her eyes suddenly filled with fire, resolutely turning her eyes away from Argus.

“If you want to know the truth, my father was a Death Eater and Augustus was one of his friends. He decided to take charge of my education, teaching me Dark Arts. Even before entering Hogwarts, I know more dark spells than a fully-fledged wizard. Augustus is a very powerful wizard, even though he is a worm in front of the Dark Lord. When I turned fifteen, Augustus had other plans for me; I refused and, for once, my father backed me up on that decision. Augustus took it quite well but he began teaching me horrible spells, spells that I didn’t want to cast. He threatened me with Cruciatus if I didn’t comply. Sometimes I chose the pain rather than learning the spell. My father was blind to that. Augustus was good at lying and he presented me like a mythomaniac, which my parents quite readily believed. As soon as I graduated from Hogwarts, my father pressed me to put myself at the Dark Lord’s service. Maybe at that time I truly believed in the superiority of pure-bloods, but it was not to the point of killing everybody else. It was just pointless. I refused, but Augustus dragged me there and put me under Imperius for the whole ceremony. Normally I’m quite good at fighting this curse, but this time, I don’t know why, I couldn’t resist it. Everything he told me to do seemed wonderful at the moment, although it made me sick afterwards.”

“He drugged you,” said Goyle offhandedly. “He told us about it. A will-annihilator potion. It almost conditions the person for Imperius. Evan Rosier and he came up with it. They were proud of it and used it frequently to question Aurors.”

Elena’s eyes flashed with fury.

“He presented me to the Dark Lord, telling him that I was his betrothed. Needless to say, the Dark Lord was pleased to see people from two pure-blood families join in marriage. I was initiated, receiving this ugly reminder,” she spat, poking her left arm in rage, “and then Augustus made me use the most horrible spell he had taught me on a hapless Muggle. A little girl, a nine-year-old little girl,” she said, closing her eyes. “I discovered later that she was a witch, but she never made it to Hogwarts. At the moment, I thought the feelings of power were exhilarating. As soon as I was myself again, the mere thought of it was enough to make me retch.”

She was very pale and she swallowed several times before continuing, not listening to Argus’s gentle insistence that she didn’t have to go through this. Everybody else was listening in rapt fascination and horror.

“Afterwards, as my hands were still covered with her blood, the Dark Lord gave permission to Augustus to take me to a quieter place. I hadn’t understood then what he meant, but I understood it quickly enough… Before the night was over, Augustus had made me his. The worse is that I hadn’t fought him; I had welcomed him as if he had been my long-lost love.”

She turned her head away, as if ashamed, and her voice was toneless when she resumed:

“I fled and hid. I didn’t know where to go and what to do, but I was horrified and ashamed. Augustus almost found me several times, one of them during which I cursed him with the face he has now. Then, finally, I turned toward the only haven I could think of, Hogwarts. I had there the memory of someone who would fight to death for me, even though I had only scorned him. I didn’t go to him as I was, for I still had my pride, but I concealed as a cat, my Animagus form, which nobody knew of. This is my past history with Augustus Rookwood. Are you satisfied, boy?” she asked wearily.

“I… I’m sorry, Elena. I didn’t know,” stammered Harry, red with embarrassment.

She closed her eyes wearily.

“No, you didn’t know and you shouldn’t have known, but you have always wanted to know everything… even things that never concerned you.”

Harry stood justly chastised and nobody dared to breathe a word.


~*~


That is, until Blaise decided that the silence was far too heavy and bothering. Feigning indignation, he put his fists on his hips.

“And naturally, everybody forgot about me! As usual. I think I’m going to cry.”

Severus rolled his eyes at Blaise’s antics and Hermione smothered a snigger.

“Alright, baby Blaise,” sighted Goyle, “tell us your story.”

Blaise didn’t comment on the term ‘baby’, but instead he glared at the still body of Travers.

“I had an aunt,” he began softly, his tone suddenly serious. “She was called Marlene. She married a man named McKinnon. Both she and her husband were great wizards. She was very close to my father and often came at home. Until she had her own daughter, I was like a son to her and afterwards, she treated us both as if we were siblings. They were pure-bloods, the both of them, and sorted into Slytherin. She often said, laughing, that Electra – her daughter – and I would be together at Hogwarts, both in Slytherin, naturally, and that we would be the worse pranksters the school had ever seen. Obviously, she didn’t know Fred and George Weasley,” he added with a sad smile.

He paused a moment, lost in his thoughts, before continuing:

“It’s my father who told me. I was too young to remember any of this. Anyway. Even though she was a pure-blood Slytherin, my aunt didn’t believe in the Voldemort crap. She believed in justice and freedom and so she joined the Order of the Phoenix, against my father’s advice who didn’t think it was a good thing. She was a great asset to the Order, or so I was told. But Voldemort didn’t like opponents. A fateful evening, he sent several Death Eaters at her house and then the Dark Mark hovered in the sky. They killed them all: Marlene, her husband, Electra, my grandparents who were there for the evening.”

“Why?” Harry almost cried, unable to help it.

Blaise glanced down before staring back at him.

“Electra was born at the end of July and her mother had been there when Voldemort killed Dorcas Meadowes, when he attacked Gideon and Fabian Prewett and when he murdered the Bones family. She belonged to the group of Aurors who came to the rescue.”

Harry gaped. It was all because of the prophecy, all because… of him.

“Dumbledore went to see my father afterwards and told him what had happened,” continued Blaise. “The complete description. It was so horrible that I still remember him getting as white as a sheet each time I asked him how Aunt Marlene had died. He never accepted to tell me.”

His eyes wandered toward Severus.

“Did the report come from you?”

He nodded curtly.

“Indeed. I was there and I cast the Killing Curse on your aunt as soon as I could do it without being caught, so I would shorten her sufferings.”

“Thank you. And… Electra?” asked Blaise, his voice slightly faltering.

“Travers killed her immediately, under her mother’s eyes. He wasn’t interested in a baby’s cries.”

“Travers is the last one, isn’t he?” said Blaise savagely. “Who else was there?”

“I was, if you want to revenge on me. Then there were Travers, Regulus Black, who got sick at the sight, Rosier and Jugson.”

“I hope the Dementors find him tasty.”

“Enough, Blaise. Those bloodthirsty thoughts will lead you nowhere, but down the path Travers had already followed. Don’t make the mistake of following him there.”

“What do we do with them?” asked Hermione practically.

“Leave them to me,” replied Severus glumly. “The Aurors are used to seeing me at odd hours with some captive Death Eaters. Goyle and Weasley, maybe you should come along.”

“And blowing my cover when I’m this close of becoming Minister for Magic?” said Percy with a smirk that shocked his brother. “Surely, Snape, you don’t think!”

“Grow up, Weasley,” growled Severus. “Elena, Argus, can you see that the foolish Gryffindors make it safely to their dormitory?”

“I’m not a Gryffindor!” protested Blaise hotly.

“You certainly acted like one.”

Argus stood up, leaning quite heavily on Elena and Hermione, and nodded quickly. Percy was unable to hide his grimace of disgust. Hermione glared at him and huffed in annoyance. Slowly the little group left the room. Severus was twirling his wand between his fingers and smirked amiably at the others.

“Ready?”

They all nodded.

“Perfect. Obliviate.”

Percy and Goyle stared blankly at him for a moment and then shook themselves.

“We ought to take them to the Aurors,” said Goyle uncertainly.

“Right you are, my friend,” replied Severus almost gleefully.

They had absolutely no remembrance of Elena, Argus and Blaise having been there and Severus had made sure to include the still unconscious Death Eaters in his spell. Satisfied that the three Slytherins were now protected from any denunciation, he left for the Ministry with his prisoners.


~*~


On the way back, Hermione thought of Severus and the spell he had cast on the others. She had known what he wanted to do and was grateful for it, not wanting to have endangered Elena. She briefly thought of doing the same with Harry, Ron and Blaise, but discarded it as quickly. First of all, casting an Obliviate spell was a tricky thing and one needed to be very careful when doing so. Secondly, Harry, Ron and she had shared many adventures without any memory charm and she knew she could trust them to hold their tongue. As for Blaise, she somehow felt that he could become a worthy member of their little team.

When Argus, Elena and the four students arrived at Hogwarts – Argus having activated a Portkey as he couldn’t Apparate – they were quite surprised to find Minerva waiting for them at the door. Hermione groaned, unable to believe they had been so careless as to arrive without the cover of the Invisibility Cloak.

“Be glad of it, Miss Granger,” said Minerva crisply, as if reading her mind. “Elena, go hide wherever you hide usually. Argus, please wait for me in my office, I have some things to tell you. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Zabini, you go back to your respective dormitories. Miss Granger, the Headmaster is currently knocking at your door.”

“Why on earth…” grumbled Hermione, as everybody disappeared, except Blaise who tagged along.

“We received a report from Alastor Moody only minutes ago,” continued Minerva, walking briskly toward the Head Girl’s rooms. “It would seem that Severus made his appearance at the Aurors’ headquarters with Percy Weasley and Aloysius Goyle, bringing with him four prisoners: Peter Pettigrew, Johan Travers, Bellatrix Lestrange and Augustus Rookwood. One of them mentioned a witch with bushy hair. It seems they were talking about you. Immediately, the Headmaster headed for your room.”

Blaise’s hand closed on Hermione’s elbow.

“I’m coming with you,” he said quietly.

“It’s not the moment!” hissed Hermione.

“I can make the puppy eyes as well as Severus!” riposted Blaise.

Hermione was hard put not to laugh at the image.

As they neared the Head Girl’s rooms, they could hear a voice protesting vehemently:

“It is impossible, master Dumbledore! I do not let men enter the room of the lady I protect in the middle of the night. Come back with the sun and then I shall see if she is awake and disposed to receive you.”

The trio slowed down and Hermione glanced carefully toward Sir George’s portrait.

“Cin isn’t here,” she whispered.

“Which means, Miss Granger?” asked Minerva.

“Which means that he’s probably waiting for me at the other painting,” she replied with a mischievous grin.

Not caring for Minerva’s disbelieving gaze, Hermione grabbed Blaise by the hand and dragged him at the opposite where Albus was standing. Minerva sighed and made way to Albus, trying her best to behave as if she hadn’t just helped two students to fool the Headmaster.


~*~


Albus was getting quite angry and even considered simply blasting the portrait to pieces. Alastor’s report had worried him and he wanted to confront Hermione about the events that had taken place on Culloden Moor.

“One last time, Sir George, I command you to open this door!”

His still imprecise thought of firing magic at the painting faded into nothingness as Cinnabar re-entered the portrait, curling smugly on a high rock, turning a malevolent golden eye toward Albus. The Knight looked at the red dragon, whose tail slightly twitched, but before he could say a word, the door slowly opened and a bleary-eyed Hermione appeared, her hair tousled, clutching to her chest a dressing gown far too big for her.

“What is it, Headmaster?” she asked, trying quite unsuccessfully to hide a yawn.

“Where have you been, young lady?”

“Uh? Where was I supposed to be?”

“Don’t play game with me, Miss Granger! It took you far too long to open your door! Where were you?”

“With me,” interjected a new voice from behind Hermione. “Sorry, love,” Blaise added, flinging his arm around her shoulders, “I’m afraid we will have to confess everything.”

Sir George stared at the young Slytherin in horror, noticing the discarded robes lying in a heap behind him, the creased shirt with the first buttons open, and emitted a noise that was half-way between a spluttered cry of outrage and a strangled moan of despair. Cinnabar yawned and Hermione discreetly winked at him.

“You foul snake!” he shouted, waving his sword in front of Cinnabar’s nose, “you let him enter while I had my back turned, didn’t you? No respect, no sense of proper behaviours! You–”

“This is enough, Sir George,” interrupted Albus wearily. “Mr. Zabini, may I know the reason of your presence in the Head Girl’s room?”

Blaise even managed to look quite embarrassed. After all, Slytherins didn’t like being caught.

“Well, Hermione and I… um, we have these little trysts sometimes…”

Hermione blushed and buried her face in her hands with a moan of anguish:

“Oh Blaise, no…”

“I think we should come clean, love,” insisted Blaise, gently rubbing her back.

Albus frowned, obviously upset.

“Mr. Zabini, you said you were with Miss Granger all night?”

“I haven’t let her out of my sight since before curfew, sir,” he replied promptly.

He wasn’t lying and felt a curious satisfaction at the fact. His eyes widened slightly at the realisation that the Headmaster was using a minor spell of truth. He hid his smile. Really, after so long dealing with Severus, Albus should know that Slytherins had many ways to tell the truth all the while hiding essential facts!

“Strange, very strange,” muttered Albus. “Mr. Zabini, do you know of a Johan Travers?”

The clear gaze of the young Slytherin flashed with hatred.

“I do know that name, sir,” he said, his voice venomous. “And I wish he could suffer thousands deaths!”

“Do you know where he is currently?”

“No, sir.”

He still wasn’t lying. After all, he didn’t know where Severus had taken the prisoners.

“Then I guess you will be glad to know that he’s now in the hands of the Aurors and that he will soon pay for his crimes.”

“He already was once in the Aurors’ hands and it didn’t stop him from escaping Azkaban! If he succeeds again, I shall know no respite until he dies from my hand!”

“Odd that you don’t ask who captured him,” remarked Albus softly.

“Why?” Blaise said with a shrug. “Is there someone else except Professor Snape who chases Death Eaters? I wasn’t aware of any but then, maybe I was misinformed.”

Albus winced and decided that were he to remain, he would undoubtedly lose the argument. So he left for the night, promising himself that he would clear things later. Minerva gave the two students a curt nod of approval and followed the Headmaster.

Hermione thanked Sir George profusely and petted Cinnabar with soft coos for letting her enter through the hidden door, whose portrait was of a forgotten cousin of the fierce red dragon.


~*~


It was quite late when Argus entered his office and then opened the door leading to his personal room. Elena was there, waiting for him, and she was so tense that she missed the troubled look of hope and resignation on his face. She walked determinately to him, took his wand from his hand before he could react and threw it by the window. Her own wand followed the same path. Argus gasped in surprise and opened wide eyes, trying to understand what was happening.

Elena took a deep breath; this was her last attempt. If it didn’t work, she would forget everything about Argus Filch and leave Hogwarts forever. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“You threw my wand away,” he said, dazzled, still processing the latest events before the shock of the kiss registered.

“I don’t care for it!” she exclaimed fiercely.

“But I have no powers without it.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m no better than a Muggle.”

“I would accept to live as a Muggle for you,” she replied, intent.

“Not the powers?” he asked, suspicious.

“Not the powers.”

He looked at her attentively and she returned his gaze. She swallowed with difficulty.

“I love you, Argus, you, not the new powers unleashed thanks to Hermione. But I’m tired of trying to make you realise it. I’m tired of feeling like a teenager because you don’t notice me and I’m tired of being afraid of rejection. If you don’t want me, just tell me and I’ll go away and never bother you.”

“But I do! Just ask Severus and Hermione if you don’t believe me! You know I do, I’ve loved you since the beginning! How was I to know that–”

He stopped when Elena hugged him so fiercely that she knocked the wind out of him.

“I can say you took your sweet time,” commented a dry voice.

Argus and Elena started like students caught red handed out after curfew. Naturally, Severus and Hermione were there, leaning against the doorframe, both wearing the same smirk of superiority.. Severus’s cheekbone was bleeding and he had been subjected twice to the Cruciatus Curse plus some other random curses, but he was here, enjoying Argus’s bewilderment.

“Accio wands!” shouted Hermione and the two wands Elena had thrown by the window flew right in her hand.

“It would be a waste to let you go to the Muggle word,” said Severus carelessly, definitely feeling smug.

To everybody’s surprise, Argus just laughed, holding Elena close to him, and above her head, he looked at Hermione. In his eyes she could see joy, renewed hope and a mischievous glint that she had never seen before. She didn’t need to think for a long time to know what was the reason for it and she grinned happily. Someone was in for a big surprise!