Shammy's HP/Naruto CHAPTER ONE, OMG YESH.
FINALLY. HAHA. 8D Over 7,000 words just for chapter one! WTF, SHAMMY, WTF. And I still think I went too fast with this chapter, possibly elaborating too much on how Percy is a git. All Harry Potter at the moment, next chapter will be Naruto-- and the two worlds meeting.
Talk to me about whether I'm moving too fast-- about what's confusing, and what characters are not developed enough. Is Harry too passive and then too angry? Should there be something I didn't mention that I should have mentioned? WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS FIC? D: TELL ME EVERYTHING.
...PS, I have no title. Help? :D;;
There are, perhaps, thousands of ways to kill a person just with your strength and bare fists alone. A thousand ways to gut someone with a quill, and another thousand for poisoning when it came to the most base of chemicals. Creativity in the way of death and torture was never short when it came to the Death Eaters, and especially when it came to the second war with Voldemort.
Harry leaned forward uncomfortably as he tried to gain a better position in the wooden chair he was seated in, mentally scowling as he watched Mad-Eye Moody escort Percy Weasley into the room where the meeting for the Order of the Phoenix was held. Ever since two years ago when Snape had murdered Dumbledore (and Harry had sworn to himself since that day that it would be his wand who took down the former potions professor), the Order had been on the move constantly, changing headquarters every few days. The newly promoted Headmistress McGonagall had tried her best to be unpredictable in her locations, but war preparations combined with the responsibility of one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in Europe had worn her down to a thread.
The Order had no choice but to start recruiting younger and younger, although all members were still graduated from Hogwarts. McGonagall had strictly refused to admit anyone younger, stating that despite the war going on, she would not abandon her morals about children as soldiers.
But the situation continued to decline as the new Minister of Magic refused to band together troops to fell the Dark Lord, instead working with the rest of the Wizarding World to see if a "better" solution could be allotted. The Order’s plea for allowance had been denied, and at the standoff between the Order and the Ministry, all Voldemort had to do was wait for his two enemies to finish each other off.
Harry frowned darkly, green eyes narrowed behind his glasses as his thoughts drifted toward the uncooperative Ministry, barely containing the urge to bear his teeth at the idea of still having to negotiate with the official ruling law of Wizarding Britain.
It was stupid that things would turn out this bad. This was war. Weren't people supposed to come together during times of war in order to fight a common enemy?
Ron was fidgeting in the seat beside Harry's, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of his estranged brother in the same room as him. The Weasley children had all given up Percy as a lost cause years ago, and it only raised tension when the Ministry had declared Percy has an embassy to the Order of the Phoenix. Harry stole a glance at his best friend to see Ron glaring at the door, the muscles around his eyes tense and his fists balled under the table, knuckles white as he strained to not saw anything insulting.
Hermione sat on Harry's other side, perhaps the only calm face in the entire room. She had thinned out unbearably in the past two years, having decided that she needed to study more after Dumbledore died. Study, study, and learn more hexes and curses to teach Harry. She had not expected that Harry would join her during her days in the library, but looking back, she really shouldn't have been surprised; especially knowing the anger that bubbled under Harry's skin all the time now.
Harry himself sat rigidly as Percy greeted the Headmistress, outwardly calm as his mind went over all the horrible situations that could arise from the meeting. The minister was an idiot, just as bad as Fudge had been, but unbearable in his own manner and lack of cooperation. Where as Fudge had pretended everything was okay and tried turn Harry into a scapegoat for the war, Scrimgeour was convinced that everything would work out by itself and that the Ministry really shouldn’t get involved in a war that didn’t involve them, and would govern the people while the Order and Voldemort fought it out.
What was it with idealists and their penchant for leading the people? Harry could have sworn that it should be the other way around; that idealists were never the one to grab hold of the seats of power because it would usually be taken up by those with more ambition than they.
Or maybe, Harry thought bitterly, it was just that the Slytherins were getting more and more cunning each generation and they were the ones who were really in the seats of power, behind the shadows of leaders whom were all too incompetent to actually lead.
“What is it that the Ministry would have us do today, Percy?” One of the Weasley twins spoke up, sarcasm all but dripping from his voice. Harry’s eyes identified George standing at the doorway, arms crossed as he spoke, “Would they like us to roll over and play dead? Fetch something for them, perhaps? Or are you not considered wizard enough because you’re actually related to us and therefore your previous Ministry abandoned you?”
“George.” Mrs. Weasley scolded, but didn’t rebuke any of those statements as Percy refused to even flinch, glaring hard at his younger brother.
“Actually, our Ministry” he stressed our to the extent that felt as if they all had a responsibility to it. “Has requested your help in figuring you an artifact that had turned up in the Department of Mysteries recently. Those working in the department swear that they had never seen this artifact before four years ago, when a certain group of vagrants broke in and disturbed their orderly structure.”
“Orderly structure, my arse.” Ron muttered besides Harry. “That place was full of chaos to begin with.”
“And what are we to gain through helping this Ministry with this endeavor, Mr. Weasley?” Headmistress McGonagall spoke briskly. “Surely you do understand that we are considerably busy, having to take care of both a school and the war.” She was looking at him disapprovingly from over her glasses, and Harry was struck for a moment by how alike to Dumbledore she looked at the time.
“It is an artefact that has been disturbing the Minister’s mind for the past several days.” Percy continued, as if he had not heard the Headmistress. “Perhaps a weapon of considerable power. Should the Order of the Phoenix be able to figure out how to tame the artefact, then it could be used in the war for your advantage.”
Great. So now they were a dumping ground for irritating objects that the Ministry didn’t want to deal with.
“And what is this artefact that you’re talking about?” Hermione asked, her voice tired in comparison to everyone else’s clear cut confidence. She had been studying the past several days on where the next Horcrux might be, trying to figure out what spells would be used to protect it and how to get around those spells without triggering anything that would hurt Harry. If anything, she was the expert on magical artefacts, having studied under Bill for a good three months and still maintaining correspondence weekly on curse breaking.
Percy hesitated for a second before saying, “A mirror.”
A wave of murmurs spread throughout the small Order meeting, most of them bordering on disapproval that they had even been called to the meeting to consider negotiations with the Ministry to begin with.
“This is ridiculous!” Someone shouted from the back of the room. “You would expect us to help you solve the mystery of why the Minister doesn’t see what he likes in a mirror instead of fighting the war against You-Know-Who?”
Percy reddened in indignation. “Minister Scrimgeour is a brilliant man and he has offered his help in exchange for your own! As citizens of the British Wizarding Society, the least you can do is accept this generous offer!”
“I suppose it might help in the war only if we manage to get You-Know-Who to look in a mirror,” Harry could hear Fred’s not so subtle comment from near the doorway, “and he might die from fright at the image. But we shouldn’t count on that, should we?”
“Excuse me for assuming,” Hermione spoke up above the din of protests and angry whispers, all aimed at the idiocy that was the Ministry of Magic. “But you’ve yet to specify what it is that the Ministry could help us with. You have confirmed quite clearly in previous visits that there will be no help on the military front from the Ministry, nor help in terms of supply and public announcements. I fail to understand how the Ministry is now able to help us without withdrawing those previous statements.”
Harry shifted in his seat, also interested in what nonsense propaganda Percy was going to sprout this time. He usually kept his comments in Order meetings to a minimum unless directly asked something, and wondered how it was that Percy could continue to remain so utterly stupid as to confront so many people, including his own family, and refuse to accept a different set of beliefs.
Well, that was what Harry wanted to think of it as, anyway. A different set of beliefs. Heck, Ginny had once called it-
Harry cut off that train of thought quickly.
“Should the artefact prove useful to the Order of the Phoenix,” Percy was saying stiffly. “Then it would be lent out on an extended basis for your… war efforts. Should it not prove useful, then it is certainly no skin off your hands, is it?”
Harry clenched his hands reflexively at that, stretching old scars from a blood quill. He could feel several other younger Order members do the same, their faces going tight and angry at the unintended insult.
“We would be wasting valuable time and precious resources to help the Ministry,” McGonagall said evenly. “With no promises of return gain.”
“Headmistress, I am hoping for a start to future cooperation.” Percy said. He had his hands behind his back in a diplomatic stance, posture still stiff but with a more pleading edge to it. “As it is, He Who Must Not Be Named is gaining ground in the Wizarding World because we simple can not come to an agreement. This may be the first step into a more peaceful negotiations and better understanding.”
The words would have sounded pretty, Harry thought absently, had they not been spoken in the middle of a war. There shouldn’t even be steps taken toward negotiation if they had a common enemy to plot against. Unless, of course, the Ministry actually didn’t consider Voldemort to be an enemy and was perfectly happy with him rampaging away murdering and enslaving people.
Harry felt a sneer overtake his face. Why were they here listening to these idiots again? The Order didn’t need the Ministry. Even if they did, the Ministry would not offer help. Hermione had insisted to Ron and him that it was because one had to think beyond the war, to what would happen after the Dark Lord was defeated and the recovery process began if the people lost all faith in their established government.
“I see.” McGonagall’s tone was disapproving, reminding Harry of when he had been back at school and had managed to lose fifty points in one potions class, having to explain his mishaps to her as the Gryffindor Head.
There were still titters going around the room, but they were slowly dying down as the Headmistress folded her hands on the desk, requesting, “If you will, Mr. Weasley, step from the room but for a moment while the Order deliberates on what we should do to assist you…?”
Taking the hint, Percy gave a murmur of agreement before hurriedly stepping out the door, ignoring the glares that followed his steps.
One the Weasley twins had shut the door behind their brother, people began protesting in full.
“Headmistress, you can not think that it would be wise to assist-“
“That bloody berk! Who does he think he bloody is, demanding something this stupid from us? He’s been a git all his life, but I never thought that he would-“
“Ronald Weasley, you watch your mouth!”
“This is preposterous! Hanging hope that a mirror could be the weapon to defeat You-Know-Who-!“
“…Sorry, mum.”
“We have more concerns to worry about than some mirror that the blasted Ministry deems interesting…”
Hermione had turned to Harry and eyed him for a moment. “What do you think, Harry?” She asked. “You haven’t commented on this at all.”
Harry thought for a moment. He thought the whole thing was absurd, of course. He didn’t quite know what to think. Percy was a bloody berk, just as Ron had said, and he didn’t want to work with the Ministry at all, but he was old enough to understand that perhaps the Order had to work with the Ministry in order to fight and win the war.
What else could be done? The Ministry had scoffed at all their attempts for alliance against Voldemort, as if there was no threat to begin with. It was a ridiculous request, and expressed exactly what the Ministry thought of them. It was humiliating to have to even consider the request, and Harry didn’t think that the Order bad off enough to accept that request yet.
But he had learned to think ahead. Strategy lessons (or just game after game of chess with Ron) had taught him that moves made at the moment would affect the rest of the game.
“I think this whole thing is stupid.” He commented. Honesty was good. Hermione wouldn’t scold him for honesty. “The idea that we’re being used to investigate a mirror? I don’t doubt that perhaps there’s something special about the mirror,” he remembered the Mirror of Erised, after all, “but to use us as dogs.” His lips curled in a scowl.
The room was still too noisy for anyone to hear Harry’s comments, and Hermione leaned closer. Ron had finally stopped his ranting, having been thoroughly admonished by mother and because Fred and George had taken over, anyway. He also started leaning in, listening to the conversation.
“This is the first step of the Ministry trying to work with us, though…” Hermione tried to appease.
“Yeah, right.” Ron scoffed. “They’re not trying to work with us, Hermione! They’re using us. Sharing information, I can understand. Offering training, I can understand. Having us help with war reprieves, I can understand. They’re supposed to be the ones on the front lines, not denying responsibility!”
Harry nodded in agreement. “This isn’t working together. It seems almost like Minister Scrimgeour is testing us-trying to see just how much we’d bend trying to gain their cooperation. A mirror? This is ridiculous.”
Hermione was quiet for a moment, and Harry could hear McGonagall trying to gain order of the meeting, raising her voice over the protesters. He ignored that for the moment.
“So you don’t think that we should accept?” She asked, tapping a finger on her arm. It seemed to be a nervous habit of hers now that her hair was too short to tug on.
“I’m not sure what to think.” Harry admitted. “I think that we should accept because that seems to be the simplest decision. But at the same time, if we accepted, how would that reflect on us later on? It may be a start in working with the Ministry, but it’s a weak start for us. It asserts their dominance over us; something which would weaken us in later negotiations with the Ministry.”
“But at least it’s a start to working with them, right?” Hermione tried to assert.
Harry just frowned, not sure what else he could say.
The three of them were silent for a moment before Ron spoke up, his voice softer than usual, making sure that he wasn’t heard above the din of people still arguing in the meeting.
“How about… we deal with the Ministry ourselves for the moment? So that it doesn’t reflect directly on the Order of the Phoenix?”
“What do you mean, Ron?” Hermione asked.
Ron looked around them for a moment, making sure that no one was listening into their conversation, despite being in a room full of people.
“The Order doesn’t need to lower itself to such a deal, right? But it’ll look bad if they don’t cooperate. But all they need is people to check out some stupid mirror. And yeah, sure, we’re busy with the horcrux business, but we haven’t had any new leads in the past two weeks. Some mysterious mirror that the Ministry discovered is probably the best lead we’re got at the moment to anything strange. So we can deal with it ourselves-as representatives of the Order.” He shrugged. “It’ll just be another daring and outrageous antic from us if this doesn’t work. And the Ministry already has us all classified as outrageous, so that blame can’t really spill onto the Order.”
There was a pause as that suggestion was digested, and Harry and Hermione looked at each other blankly while Ron scratched at his head, looking a bit embarrassed.
Wouldn’t they get in trouble for that? Could they even pull something like that off now that they were no longer children? Sure, they were Gryffindors and that usually meant they leapt into situations blindly, but none of them had ever gotten so involved in situations so deeply entrenched in politics before.
Well. They were Gryffindors.
“That…” Hermione blinked as Harry looked confused. “That just might work, Ron.”
**
The meeting had been concluded pretty quickly after that, since most of the Order could not decide on what to do with one Percy Weasley’s request. Percy had been peeved to be sent away from the school without an answer, and Hermione had pulled McGonagall aside after the meeting to confide in her parts of the plan that she, Harry, and Ron had started to figure out.
“This could be extremely dangerous, Miss Granger.” McGonagall pursed her lips. “There is no knowing what can happen with a magic mirror. The best scenario I can think of is seven years bad luck, which is exactly what we don’t need at the moment with the war going on.”
Hermione wanted to protest that if it really were dangerous, the Ministry would most likely have gotten rid of it already, the cowards that they were. But she was prudent enough to realize that was an influence of having been around Ron too long, and kept that opinion to herself. “Research, Professor. If we can’t help, then we can’t help, right? And if we’re actually able to do something with the mirror, then it’s an benefit to the war. Percy was right about one thing-we wouldn’t really lose anything if nothing works. Maybe some time, but with the way our research has been going lately, we’re hardly helping Harry by sitting around looking through more dusty books.”
“This is going against the opinions of many in the Order,” McGonagall continued to protest. But then she sighed wearily, resting an elbow on her desk, looking the very image of tired and weary. “I don’t know how Albus managed to hold everyone together. It seems that all they want to do is argue with each other now instead of cooperating…”
“We’ll help.” Hermione urged. “Just tell the Order that the situation with the Ministry has been taken care of. They’re still needed for the strikes Voldemort has been hitting, after all. They don’t really have to agree as long as they can work together in battle at the moment.”
It was not secret that they were short on people-the general wizarding populace were too scared to go up against the Dark Lord, hiding in their homes and hoping that they wouldn’t be targeted next. It was partially the Ministry’s fault, trying to say that everything was okay, and that their help wasn’t needed because the Order was taking care of everything war-based while the Ministry would take care of those people who didn’t want to be involved in the war.
Stupid, Hermione thought bitterly. As if people could not be involved in this war. They were only helping Voldemort by deciding not to participate and help, but of course they didn’t want to hear something like that. It was no wonder Minister Scrimgeour was so popular-he said exactly what the people wanted to hear and denied everything they didn’t want to hear.
There were several moments of silence as McGonagall contemplated this, before her eyes softened behind her glasses. Hermione had been her favourite student; always hard-working and smart, yet brave enough to take the risks that were necessary to change things. She was the ideal Gryffindor, and McGonagall always had a soft spot for the brunette girl, as had been evidenced by managing to get hold of a time-turner for Hermione in third year just so she could take all the classes she wanted to.
“I am giving the three of you five days.” The Headmistress finally spoke. “Five days to figure out whatever mystery that the Ministry wants you to figure out. If you don’t have anything after five days, I will consider this to be a failed project, and we’ll disregard this mirror idea.” The muttered the last part, “The Ministry have gotten more and more simple minded since Fudge took over.”
Hermione chose to ignore the last part, no matter how much she agreed with that. “We’ll set out today, then.”
**
“Hermione Granger.” She announced loudly to the phone system as it asked for name and identification. “Here on behalf of Minister Scrimgeour.”
She shifted uncomfortably as the machine before her whirred, and then released a tag that had her name printed on it, along with the title of ‘visitor’ underneath. A few moments later and she exited the small phone booth to the entrance of the Ministry of Magic. She scowled slightly at the sight of the repaired statues and fountain, and then checked her wand at the register.
“Ms. Granger.”
She looked up after her wand check, giving a tight smile to Percy Weasley as he stood stiffly before her, ready to ‘escort’ her to the Minister. She bit back a frown, knowing quite well that it was because he didn’t want her to ‘accidentally’ get ‘lost’ down at the Department of Mysteries, and find something that she wasn’t supposed to find.
“Hello, Percy.” She greeted him. She wanted to give him a more formal name, but felt that he didn’t deserve the title of Mr. Weasley, and she didn’t really want to associate him with the rest of his family. Hermione was sure that he would agree with her. Minister’s Assistant also sounded much too formal, and gave him too much credit. His given name, however casual it sounded, would have to do.
He stiffened as she spoke his name, and Hermione was reminded that Percy’s main strife was with Harry, and therefore carried over to her. She wondered if he would ever give up that grudge he held against Harry-although she wasn’t too sure what that grudge was. Perhaps Percy hated Harry even before Harry had been right all this time, and Percy couldn’t deal with it.
Hermione wasn’t an expert on psychology and didn’t care to learn unless it would help her friends, so she wasn’t too concerned about Percy’s mentality. When he actually came around, then maybe she would be more concerned about him.
Perhaps.
They stepped into the lift together, followed by a swarm of paper planes, energetic and pushing each other on the ceiling of the lift. There was a tense silence between the two of them, one that Hermione couldn’t think of a way to break. She pursed her lips as the lift door opened; announcing the floor for the Minister’s office and Percy stepped ahead of her, his steps uniformed and tense. It wasn’t hard to see that he was just as unnerved about the situation as she was, and didn’t quite know what to do.
Hermione had it in her head for a moment to just run from him, and slide her way into the lift before the doors closed again-perhaps stun Percy before she headed down to the Department of Mysteries herself to check out the mirror that they had found and needed the Order to figure out. Sure, the Minister was the person who was supposed to take her to go see it, but everything was too regulated and she despaired at the idea that she actually had to play by the Ministry’s rules.
She was a Gryffindor, after all. There was a reason that the Sorting Hat had placed her in the house-she had her own impulsive actions just like Ron and Harry. It was just that she didn’t quite act on it.
The passed an elderly lady who was staring at her in suspicion, but nodded to Percy with a kind smile on her face, saying that the Minister was indeed available and waiting for them.
“Good day, Minister.” Hermione greeted in her most pleasant voice possible. She was on strained terms with the Ministry already due to her reputation as Harry Potter’s best friend. There was no way possible that she would ever be able to get a desk job at the Ministry-they would always suspect her as a spy, and rightfully so. But she knew that Harry felt bad about that, that he had somehow tainted her reputation before they had even graduated and now the job offers she got would be much more limited. She had slapped him when he apologized to her. Granted, this was also after a major battle where Harry had been concerned that the entire casualty list was his fault, and she felt that a slap was the best thing he needed.
“Ms. Granger.” Minister Scrimgeour greeted her, not rising from his seat, but keeping his eyes on her disdainfully. Hermione was reminded that he had been the head of the Auror division, and to be careful about the words she said to him.
But then, diplomacy was her thing. That was why she had been the one chosen as the go-between for the Order and Ministry, after all.
“I will get straight to the point, Minister, since I assume you have better things to do with your time today.” Hermione folded her hands in front of her, letting them see that she was without her wand (it was still in her pocket, but she wasn’t about to notify them of that) and therefore defenseless in the aspect that she was willing to negotiate whatever he wanted to talk about. “About the object in the Department of Mysteries. Should we take the next few minutes to inspect it as to see what you think the Order should do with it?”
“Break it, I hope.” Scrimgeour said straightforwardly. He waved a hand toward the door to his right, getting up from his seat. “Let us hope this does not take long, Ms. Granger. I had several people bring the Mirror up to my office in case anyone had the idea that they would be able to break into the Ministry to… tamper with it, shall we leave it at that?”
“But of course.” Hermione schooled her expressions, trying to draw on what she had learned from Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin about diplomacy. It was best to settle things peacefully, and not give into the taunts made by the other side.
The three of them shuffled into the small room on the side, Percy being the first one in the door, followed by Hermione, and then backed by the Minister. Hermione gritted her teeth, recognizing the technique to surround her in case she decided on any unsavory tactics.
The room was small, perhaps the size of a tiny bedroom, and at the end of it was a full-length mirror, covered with white sheets that were spelled to bind it tightly. She thought of the Veil that Sirius had fallen through, with its black curtains that seemed to draw a person in.
Minister Scrimgeour murmured a spell and with a wave of his wand, the sheets were drawn back to reveal an ovular mirror with gold embellishing on the sides, runes carved intricately and wound tightly together in a way that made Hermione itch to touch and study it. She had never seen runes wound into each other in her classes at Hogwarts, as each rune was supposed to be strategically placed and not to overlap.
“I will admit this thing has been causing the Ministry trouble.” Scrimgeour was saying in a low voice, obviously quite irritated at the fact that he could not figure the mirror out. “There had been three wizards and two witches whom had been researching this artifact… and then one day they just all disappeared without a trace.” He shook his head, never once looking to Hermione’s direction. “Two days later, we found their decapitated bodies on front of the mirror.”
Hermione drew her breath in sharply.
Scrimgeour finally turned his head to look at her, eyes narrow and shielded. “This is where you come in, Ms. Granger.”
This wasn’t what she had expected. But she supposed that perhaps she should have been expecting this, ever since Percy had suggested that the mirror could be a form of weapon. Weapon against whom, though? Hermione had been studying curse breaking with Bill long enough to understand that sometimes curses had no other function than to hurt those people who attempted to mess with it. If this was the case, then the mirror was simply something that shouldn’t be messed with-it was protecting something, but the destructive power couldn’t be used against other people.
Unless, she thought with a grimace, they managed to get people to mess with it intentionally. Just like what the Minister was attempting to do to them.
“If there is nothing that you need, Ms. Granger,” Minister Scrimgeour was saying. “Then I will take my leave of you. As you said, I have many more important things to be doing with my time.”
A younger Hermione would have perhaps jerked away from the mirror in shock, betrayed that they would leave her with a cursed object which had already killed many Ministry employees. But she was older, and wiser than that now. They would leave her regardless unless she chose to back out, which would further sully the reputation of the Order.
They had this planned out.
Hermione endured the bitter taste in her mouth, and nodded promptly. “I’m sure, Minister. I would prefer my privacy in research.”
He sneered at her before taking his leave, Percy closing the door behind himself and leaving Hermione in the small, dimly lit room.
She waited a moment before casting several privacy spells.
“You guys can come out now.” She said, and Harry and Ron appeared from underneath the invisibility cloak, Ron pretending to gag and brush himself off.
“What utter gits.” He said in disgust. “I knew there were things they weren’t telling us. The least they could say is that people have died because of this!” He waved a hand towards the ornate mirror on the wall. Harry said nothing, but was glancing at his own reflection warily.
“This is just curse-breaking.” Hermione appeased them. She set several loose wards around the mirror, prodding at it with magic to see if it would react within the boundaries of the wards.
It didn’t react, and Hermione frowned. At the very least, there should have been a twinge of magic to resist her prodding. At worst, it would have started to attack the wards she had placed up, and Hermione would have been forced to retaliate.
But there was nothing, and that made her more suspicious.
“What were those Minister employees doing that got them decapitated by a bloody mirror?” Ron was asking Harry. He seemed disgruntled. “It wasn’t just being in the same room as it, was it?” He was fingering his wand warily.
“Please, Ron,” Hermione said, exasperated. “If that were the case, the Minister would already be dead. The objective of cursed items is only to attack if it is attacked. Being the same room doesn’t count for anything. You’d actually have to be trying to break it for it to retaliate so harshly.”
“Well, I’m not one who’s up for seven years of bad luck.” He muttered.
“It doesn’t seem defensive.” Harry commented, stepping closer to the glass, his eyes studying the runes that had been embossed on the edge. “It doesn’t seem like a curse at all. There’s no magic protecting the mirror from harm.”
That was what her preliminary spells had told her as well, but she had not trusted it. Decapitated five Ministry employees. She had to be extra careful around an artifact that was able to do that.
Harry was pointing at a rune at the top of the mirror with his wand. “Doesn’t that mean… bridge? Connection?”
Hermione looked at it carefully, having half a mind to tell Harry to back up from the mirror because it was dangerous. But she had learned throughout the years that it certainly didn’t stop Harry from rushing into dangerous situations. It had only worsened after they had graduated and the war was entirely underway.
For a few months after Ginny died, Hermione had almost been sure that Harry was throwing himself into battle wanting to die.
She brushed the thought aside, not wanting to linger on something of the past. Harry was over that stage, and he knew how important he was to everyone. He wasn’t so selfish as to go looking for ways to die.
The overlapping runes… “Connection. Not so much bridge as a separation of elements that are not compatible.” She frowned. “It says… a connection between incompatible elements.”
‘That still sounds dangerous.” Ron offered.
“Yeah, like a bad potions experiment.” Harry agreed. “But at the same time, if that’s true, then maybe this really can be used as a weapon.”
“Not until we figure out what incompatible elements are being used here,” Hermione said, ever the voice of reason. She pulled out a rune pouch from her robe pockets, the sound of stones clicking together comforting to her in that she knew exactly what her runes did and what she could do with them. She spilled her runes out on the floor, matching up the ones which were pertinent on the mirror.
“That’s Ehwaz,” she said, indicating an ‘M’ shaped rune. “For transportation. Harry was pretty close in thinking it was a bridge.” The stared hard at the runes on the mirror before placing another rune on top of the ‘M’ shaped rune, but this time, she placed it horizontally. “And Laguz, which usually symbolizes water or the flow of water. If it were inverted, it would mean a fear and avoidance… going in circles.” She frowned. “We were never taught what it would in-between…”
“Maybe it leads somewhere else, and then goes back in a circle,” Harry suggested, having leaned down to study her runes carefully. “Like a Vanishing Cabinet.”
“Vanishing Cabinets don’t decapitate people, Harry!” Ron protested.
Hermione ignored him, pointing instead to the interwoven ‘x’s hanging down the mirror like vines. “Gebo, for balance. It can be a gift or a sacrifice, usually meaning a partnership or an exchange.”
“Well, isn’t that an odd idea to have on a decapitating mirror?” Harry asked somewhat loudly, giving Ron a look.
“Yeah, exchange as in ‘we keep the head, and you can have the bodies back’!” Ron grumbled. Both Harry and Hermione ignored him this time.
“Raidho,” Hemione identified, “For travelling… a journey. Or a decision that starts a journey. Usually a transitional rune, the last one placed to begin a spell. It encourages the user to see what is already in front of them and…” her brows came together in thought. “I can’t quite remember, but it was something about a… relocation or evolution. A change of setting.”
Hermione gave Ron a glare before he could say anything about relocated heads, and he shut his mouth wisely.
“This all seems related.” Harry observed. “Connection, transportation, travel. This isn’t a mirror that just shows you things, it most likely takes you somewhere else. Laguz means that we can come back from where we’re going… or else those corpses would have disappeared and never gotten back here to begin with.”
“…Does the idea of decapitation not faze either of you at all?” Ron demanded. “I happen to like my head.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron,” Hermione spoke up. “I happen to like staying alive just as much as you. But you’re the one to have suggested this idea. And we’re on a schedule here. If we don’t find anything, then we’d have wasted five days that we could have spent on war efforts.”
“We need to be able to find something here,” Harry said firmly. The other two looked at him, trying to understand his absolute need to end the war. It wasn’t as if they didn’t want to as well, but Harry’s drive was on a different level than theirs. The three of them had been grasping at straws the past year, feeling as if they were going nowhere and only being pushed in the directions that other people wanted them in. Harry, especially, had a hard time of the previous year, having just lost Ginny after her own graduation. He had been… different the past year. In a way that scared both Ron and Hermione more than they would care to admit.
They gave each other a glance before Hermione reaffirmed, “We will, Harry. We just need to be patient and make sure that everyone here is safe.” She tapped her rune stones in thought. “Everything that the runes tell about the mirror suggests that it’s safe… no negativity at all. Yet that doesn’t explain the Ministry employees.”
“Maybe it’s something other the other side of the mirror that’s dangerous and not the mirror itself.” Ron suggested. He shrugged when they looked at him curiously. “Just a thought. The mirror doesn’t say anything about where it leads, after all, if we’re assuming that it even leads anywhere. I mean… you were talking about incompatible elements, right, Hermione? Maybe it leads somewhere that’s completely incompatible with this realm, and that’s what’s dangerous about the mirror.”
“That… does make more sense.” Hermione admitted. She rearranged some of her stones again, lips thin in thought. The three of them were bent down low on the ground now, not ten feet away from the ornate mirror. “I just assumed that it was a curse that might be surrounding the mirror, which was what caused the death of the Ministry employees and that was the mystery that the Minister wanted to solve so badly. Gringotts has many curse-breakers in their employing, after all, and really, if it had been that simple, then the Ministry would never have even thought to seek help from the Order.”
“Well, that might make it a bit simpler.” Harry said. He murmured an incantation, flicking his wand to conjure up a ball of floating light. It was brighter than the dim lighting of the room, and the three of them squinted a bit to readjust their vision. “We can just send a magical scout the other side, right? If it’s truly horrible, I’m sure we can still use this mirror as a backup to lure Death Eaters to the other side. Best case scenario, Voldemort gets curious about this mirror, somehow makes it to other side and gets decapitated.” He sneered. “Not that I think it’ll stop him still. We’d still have to find the horcruxes before he truly dies.”
He looked over at Hermione, who was still keeping one eye on her runes, as if there were further mysteries that needed to be deciphered. “How do we end it over? Do we just touch the mirror?”
“It’s still too dangerous to go ahead and send a piece of your magic over, Harry.” Hermione reasoned with him. “For all we know, whatever is on the other side could latch on to your magical signature and follow it back here.” She paused as Ron turned pale. “As a matter of fact, I don’t know why we haven’t been greeted with what’s on the other side already, seeing as Laguz symbolizes the open connection between both sides.”
Harry shrugged apathetically. “We’d never know unless we try.”
A loud ‘thunk’ sound echoed throughout the room as Hermione slammed her pouch of runes onto the ground harshly, glaring at her best friend. “Just because you’re supposed to be the one who fights Voldemort in the end, Harry, doesn’t mean you have a right to play with your own life like this. The prophesy doesn’t guarantee your survival until the final battle, and I am most certainly not allowing you to put your life in danger so needlessly!”
Harry’s green eyes flashed behind his glasses, “It’s my life! I think I can decide what to do with it! And if I chose to risk my life for a possible way to win the war, then it’s my decision and I’d ask for you to bugger off, Hermione!”
Ron looked between the two of them with a frown. “Um, guys, I don’t think this is the time and place to be arguing-”
“No, I want to make this clear right now.” Harry interrupted, fuming. “You can’t just order people around like that, Hermione, and then use the excuse that it’s because you ‘care’. I know you care, I’ve never doubted that you care… but I need you not to doubt me!”
“I do not doubt you! I am trying to be the single voice of reason that just might get it through your thick skull that what you’re doing is dangerous, and that if you would only wait just a bit, then Ron and I could at least decrease the danger factor-”
“I don’t need you to do that for me!”
With a bitter glare at Hermione’s direction, Harry stepped away from them and not only sent the orb of light directly into the mirror, but stepped into it himself.
End chapter one!
Talk to me about whether I'm moving too fast-- about what's confusing, and what characters are not developed enough. Is Harry too passive and then too angry? Should there be something I didn't mention that I should have mentioned? WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS FIC? D: TELL ME EVERYTHING.
...PS, I have no title. Help? :D;;
There are, perhaps, thousands of ways to kill a person just with your strength and bare fists alone. A thousand ways to gut someone with a quill, and another thousand for poisoning when it came to the most base of chemicals. Creativity in the way of death and torture was never short when it came to the Death Eaters, and especially when it came to the second war with Voldemort.
Harry leaned forward uncomfortably as he tried to gain a better position in the wooden chair he was seated in, mentally scowling as he watched Mad-Eye Moody escort Percy Weasley into the room where the meeting for the Order of the Phoenix was held. Ever since two years ago when Snape had murdered Dumbledore (and Harry had sworn to himself since that day that it would be his wand who took down the former potions professor), the Order had been on the move constantly, changing headquarters every few days. The newly promoted Headmistress McGonagall had tried her best to be unpredictable in her locations, but war preparations combined with the responsibility of one of the most prestigious wizarding schools in Europe had worn her down to a thread.
The Order had no choice but to start recruiting younger and younger, although all members were still graduated from Hogwarts. McGonagall had strictly refused to admit anyone younger, stating that despite the war going on, she would not abandon her morals about children as soldiers.
But the situation continued to decline as the new Minister of Magic refused to band together troops to fell the Dark Lord, instead working with the rest of the Wizarding World to see if a "better" solution could be allotted. The Order’s plea for allowance had been denied, and at the standoff between the Order and the Ministry, all Voldemort had to do was wait for his two enemies to finish each other off.
Harry frowned darkly, green eyes narrowed behind his glasses as his thoughts drifted toward the uncooperative Ministry, barely containing the urge to bear his teeth at the idea of still having to negotiate with the official ruling law of Wizarding Britain.
It was stupid that things would turn out this bad. This was war. Weren't people supposed to come together during times of war in order to fight a common enemy?
Ron was fidgeting in the seat beside Harry's, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of his estranged brother in the same room as him. The Weasley children had all given up Percy as a lost cause years ago, and it only raised tension when the Ministry had declared Percy has an embassy to the Order of the Phoenix. Harry stole a glance at his best friend to see Ron glaring at the door, the muscles around his eyes tense and his fists balled under the table, knuckles white as he strained to not saw anything insulting.
Hermione sat on Harry's other side, perhaps the only calm face in the entire room. She had thinned out unbearably in the past two years, having decided that she needed to study more after Dumbledore died. Study, study, and learn more hexes and curses to teach Harry. She had not expected that Harry would join her during her days in the library, but looking back, she really shouldn't have been surprised; especially knowing the anger that bubbled under Harry's skin all the time now.
Harry himself sat rigidly as Percy greeted the Headmistress, outwardly calm as his mind went over all the horrible situations that could arise from the meeting. The minister was an idiot, just as bad as Fudge had been, but unbearable in his own manner and lack of cooperation. Where as Fudge had pretended everything was okay and tried turn Harry into a scapegoat for the war, Scrimgeour was convinced that everything would work out by itself and that the Ministry really shouldn’t get involved in a war that didn’t involve them, and would govern the people while the Order and Voldemort fought it out.
What was it with idealists and their penchant for leading the people? Harry could have sworn that it should be the other way around; that idealists were never the one to grab hold of the seats of power because it would usually be taken up by those with more ambition than they.
Or maybe, Harry thought bitterly, it was just that the Slytherins were getting more and more cunning each generation and they were the ones who were really in the seats of power, behind the shadows of leaders whom were all too incompetent to actually lead.
“What is it that the Ministry would have us do today, Percy?” One of the Weasley twins spoke up, sarcasm all but dripping from his voice. Harry’s eyes identified George standing at the doorway, arms crossed as he spoke, “Would they like us to roll over and play dead? Fetch something for them, perhaps? Or are you not considered wizard enough because you’re actually related to us and therefore your previous Ministry abandoned you?”
“George.” Mrs. Weasley scolded, but didn’t rebuke any of those statements as Percy refused to even flinch, glaring hard at his younger brother.
“Actually, our Ministry” he stressed our to the extent that felt as if they all had a responsibility to it. “Has requested your help in figuring you an artifact that had turned up in the Department of Mysteries recently. Those working in the department swear that they had never seen this artifact before four years ago, when a certain group of vagrants broke in and disturbed their orderly structure.”
“Orderly structure, my arse.” Ron muttered besides Harry. “That place was full of chaos to begin with.”
“And what are we to gain through helping this Ministry with this endeavor, Mr. Weasley?” Headmistress McGonagall spoke briskly. “Surely you do understand that we are considerably busy, having to take care of both a school and the war.” She was looking at him disapprovingly from over her glasses, and Harry was struck for a moment by how alike to Dumbledore she looked at the time.
“It is an artefact that has been disturbing the Minister’s mind for the past several days.” Percy continued, as if he had not heard the Headmistress. “Perhaps a weapon of considerable power. Should the Order of the Phoenix be able to figure out how to tame the artefact, then it could be used in the war for your advantage.”
Great. So now they were a dumping ground for irritating objects that the Ministry didn’t want to deal with.
“And what is this artefact that you’re talking about?” Hermione asked, her voice tired in comparison to everyone else’s clear cut confidence. She had been studying the past several days on where the next Horcrux might be, trying to figure out what spells would be used to protect it and how to get around those spells without triggering anything that would hurt Harry. If anything, she was the expert on magical artefacts, having studied under Bill for a good three months and still maintaining correspondence weekly on curse breaking.
Percy hesitated for a second before saying, “A mirror.”
A wave of murmurs spread throughout the small Order meeting, most of them bordering on disapproval that they had even been called to the meeting to consider negotiations with the Ministry to begin with.
“This is ridiculous!” Someone shouted from the back of the room. “You would expect us to help you solve the mystery of why the Minister doesn’t see what he likes in a mirror instead of fighting the war against You-Know-Who?”
Percy reddened in indignation. “Minister Scrimgeour is a brilliant man and he has offered his help in exchange for your own! As citizens of the British Wizarding Society, the least you can do is accept this generous offer!”
“I suppose it might help in the war only if we manage to get You-Know-Who to look in a mirror,” Harry could hear Fred’s not so subtle comment from near the doorway, “and he might die from fright at the image. But we shouldn’t count on that, should we?”
“Excuse me for assuming,” Hermione spoke up above the din of protests and angry whispers, all aimed at the idiocy that was the Ministry of Magic. “But you’ve yet to specify what it is that the Ministry could help us with. You have confirmed quite clearly in previous visits that there will be no help on the military front from the Ministry, nor help in terms of supply and public announcements. I fail to understand how the Ministry is now able to help us without withdrawing those previous statements.”
Harry shifted in his seat, also interested in what nonsense propaganda Percy was going to sprout this time. He usually kept his comments in Order meetings to a minimum unless directly asked something, and wondered how it was that Percy could continue to remain so utterly stupid as to confront so many people, including his own family, and refuse to accept a different set of beliefs.
Well, that was what Harry wanted to think of it as, anyway. A different set of beliefs. Heck, Ginny had once called it-
Harry cut off that train of thought quickly.
“Should the artefact prove useful to the Order of the Phoenix,” Percy was saying stiffly. “Then it would be lent out on an extended basis for your… war efforts. Should it not prove useful, then it is certainly no skin off your hands, is it?”
Harry clenched his hands reflexively at that, stretching old scars from a blood quill. He could feel several other younger Order members do the same, their faces going tight and angry at the unintended insult.
“We would be wasting valuable time and precious resources to help the Ministry,” McGonagall said evenly. “With no promises of return gain.”
“Headmistress, I am hoping for a start to future cooperation.” Percy said. He had his hands behind his back in a diplomatic stance, posture still stiff but with a more pleading edge to it. “As it is, He Who Must Not Be Named is gaining ground in the Wizarding World because we simple can not come to an agreement. This may be the first step into a more peaceful negotiations and better understanding.”
The words would have sounded pretty, Harry thought absently, had they not been spoken in the middle of a war. There shouldn’t even be steps taken toward negotiation if they had a common enemy to plot against. Unless, of course, the Ministry actually didn’t consider Voldemort to be an enemy and was perfectly happy with him rampaging away murdering and enslaving people.
Harry felt a sneer overtake his face. Why were they here listening to these idiots again? The Order didn’t need the Ministry. Even if they did, the Ministry would not offer help. Hermione had insisted to Ron and him that it was because one had to think beyond the war, to what would happen after the Dark Lord was defeated and the recovery process began if the people lost all faith in their established government.
“I see.” McGonagall’s tone was disapproving, reminding Harry of when he had been back at school and had managed to lose fifty points in one potions class, having to explain his mishaps to her as the Gryffindor Head.
There were still titters going around the room, but they were slowly dying down as the Headmistress folded her hands on the desk, requesting, “If you will, Mr. Weasley, step from the room but for a moment while the Order deliberates on what we should do to assist you…?”
Taking the hint, Percy gave a murmur of agreement before hurriedly stepping out the door, ignoring the glares that followed his steps.
One the Weasley twins had shut the door behind their brother, people began protesting in full.
“Headmistress, you can not think that it would be wise to assist-“
“That bloody berk! Who does he think he bloody is, demanding something this stupid from us? He’s been a git all his life, but I never thought that he would-“
“Ronald Weasley, you watch your mouth!”
“This is preposterous! Hanging hope that a mirror could be the weapon to defeat You-Know-Who-!“
“…Sorry, mum.”
“We have more concerns to worry about than some mirror that the blasted Ministry deems interesting…”
Hermione had turned to Harry and eyed him for a moment. “What do you think, Harry?” She asked. “You haven’t commented on this at all.”
Harry thought for a moment. He thought the whole thing was absurd, of course. He didn’t quite know what to think. Percy was a bloody berk, just as Ron had said, and he didn’t want to work with the Ministry at all, but he was old enough to understand that perhaps the Order had to work with the Ministry in order to fight and win the war.
What else could be done? The Ministry had scoffed at all their attempts for alliance against Voldemort, as if there was no threat to begin with. It was a ridiculous request, and expressed exactly what the Ministry thought of them. It was humiliating to have to even consider the request, and Harry didn’t think that the Order bad off enough to accept that request yet.
But he had learned to think ahead. Strategy lessons (or just game after game of chess with Ron) had taught him that moves made at the moment would affect the rest of the game.
“I think this whole thing is stupid.” He commented. Honesty was good. Hermione wouldn’t scold him for honesty. “The idea that we’re being used to investigate a mirror? I don’t doubt that perhaps there’s something special about the mirror,” he remembered the Mirror of Erised, after all, “but to use us as dogs.” His lips curled in a scowl.
The room was still too noisy for anyone to hear Harry’s comments, and Hermione leaned closer. Ron had finally stopped his ranting, having been thoroughly admonished by mother and because Fred and George had taken over, anyway. He also started leaning in, listening to the conversation.
“This is the first step of the Ministry trying to work with us, though…” Hermione tried to appease.
“Yeah, right.” Ron scoffed. “They’re not trying to work with us, Hermione! They’re using us. Sharing information, I can understand. Offering training, I can understand. Having us help with war reprieves, I can understand. They’re supposed to be the ones on the front lines, not denying responsibility!”
Harry nodded in agreement. “This isn’t working together. It seems almost like Minister Scrimgeour is testing us-trying to see just how much we’d bend trying to gain their cooperation. A mirror? This is ridiculous.”
Hermione was quiet for a moment, and Harry could hear McGonagall trying to gain order of the meeting, raising her voice over the protesters. He ignored that for the moment.
“So you don’t think that we should accept?” She asked, tapping a finger on her arm. It seemed to be a nervous habit of hers now that her hair was too short to tug on.
“I’m not sure what to think.” Harry admitted. “I think that we should accept because that seems to be the simplest decision. But at the same time, if we accepted, how would that reflect on us later on? It may be a start in working with the Ministry, but it’s a weak start for us. It asserts their dominance over us; something which would weaken us in later negotiations with the Ministry.”
“But at least it’s a start to working with them, right?” Hermione tried to assert.
Harry just frowned, not sure what else he could say.
The three of them were silent for a moment before Ron spoke up, his voice softer than usual, making sure that he wasn’t heard above the din of people still arguing in the meeting.
“How about… we deal with the Ministry ourselves for the moment? So that it doesn’t reflect directly on the Order of the Phoenix?”
“What do you mean, Ron?” Hermione asked.
Ron looked around them for a moment, making sure that no one was listening into their conversation, despite being in a room full of people.
“The Order doesn’t need to lower itself to such a deal, right? But it’ll look bad if they don’t cooperate. But all they need is people to check out some stupid mirror. And yeah, sure, we’re busy with the horcrux business, but we haven’t had any new leads in the past two weeks. Some mysterious mirror that the Ministry discovered is probably the best lead we’re got at the moment to anything strange. So we can deal with it ourselves-as representatives of the Order.” He shrugged. “It’ll just be another daring and outrageous antic from us if this doesn’t work. And the Ministry already has us all classified as outrageous, so that blame can’t really spill onto the Order.”
There was a pause as that suggestion was digested, and Harry and Hermione looked at each other blankly while Ron scratched at his head, looking a bit embarrassed.
Wouldn’t they get in trouble for that? Could they even pull something like that off now that they were no longer children? Sure, they were Gryffindors and that usually meant they leapt into situations blindly, but none of them had ever gotten so involved in situations so deeply entrenched in politics before.
Well. They were Gryffindors.
“That…” Hermione blinked as Harry looked confused. “That just might work, Ron.”
**
The meeting had been concluded pretty quickly after that, since most of the Order could not decide on what to do with one Percy Weasley’s request. Percy had been peeved to be sent away from the school without an answer, and Hermione had pulled McGonagall aside after the meeting to confide in her parts of the plan that she, Harry, and Ron had started to figure out.
“This could be extremely dangerous, Miss Granger.” McGonagall pursed her lips. “There is no knowing what can happen with a magic mirror. The best scenario I can think of is seven years bad luck, which is exactly what we don’t need at the moment with the war going on.”
Hermione wanted to protest that if it really were dangerous, the Ministry would most likely have gotten rid of it already, the cowards that they were. But she was prudent enough to realize that was an influence of having been around Ron too long, and kept that opinion to herself. “Research, Professor. If we can’t help, then we can’t help, right? And if we’re actually able to do something with the mirror, then it’s an benefit to the war. Percy was right about one thing-we wouldn’t really lose anything if nothing works. Maybe some time, but with the way our research has been going lately, we’re hardly helping Harry by sitting around looking through more dusty books.”
“This is going against the opinions of many in the Order,” McGonagall continued to protest. But then she sighed wearily, resting an elbow on her desk, looking the very image of tired and weary. “I don’t know how Albus managed to hold everyone together. It seems that all they want to do is argue with each other now instead of cooperating…”
“We’ll help.” Hermione urged. “Just tell the Order that the situation with the Ministry has been taken care of. They’re still needed for the strikes Voldemort has been hitting, after all. They don’t really have to agree as long as they can work together in battle at the moment.”
It was not secret that they were short on people-the general wizarding populace were too scared to go up against the Dark Lord, hiding in their homes and hoping that they wouldn’t be targeted next. It was partially the Ministry’s fault, trying to say that everything was okay, and that their help wasn’t needed because the Order was taking care of everything war-based while the Ministry would take care of those people who didn’t want to be involved in the war.
Stupid, Hermione thought bitterly. As if people could not be involved in this war. They were only helping Voldemort by deciding not to participate and help, but of course they didn’t want to hear something like that. It was no wonder Minister Scrimgeour was so popular-he said exactly what the people wanted to hear and denied everything they didn’t want to hear.
There were several moments of silence as McGonagall contemplated this, before her eyes softened behind her glasses. Hermione had been her favourite student; always hard-working and smart, yet brave enough to take the risks that were necessary to change things. She was the ideal Gryffindor, and McGonagall always had a soft spot for the brunette girl, as had been evidenced by managing to get hold of a time-turner for Hermione in third year just so she could take all the classes she wanted to.
“I am giving the three of you five days.” The Headmistress finally spoke. “Five days to figure out whatever mystery that the Ministry wants you to figure out. If you don’t have anything after five days, I will consider this to be a failed project, and we’ll disregard this mirror idea.” The muttered the last part, “The Ministry have gotten more and more simple minded since Fudge took over.”
Hermione chose to ignore the last part, no matter how much she agreed with that. “We’ll set out today, then.”
**
“Hermione Granger.” She announced loudly to the phone system as it asked for name and identification. “Here on behalf of Minister Scrimgeour.”
She shifted uncomfortably as the machine before her whirred, and then released a tag that had her name printed on it, along with the title of ‘visitor’ underneath. A few moments later and she exited the small phone booth to the entrance of the Ministry of Magic. She scowled slightly at the sight of the repaired statues and fountain, and then checked her wand at the register.
“Ms. Granger.”
She looked up after her wand check, giving a tight smile to Percy Weasley as he stood stiffly before her, ready to ‘escort’ her to the Minister. She bit back a frown, knowing quite well that it was because he didn’t want her to ‘accidentally’ get ‘lost’ down at the Department of Mysteries, and find something that she wasn’t supposed to find.
“Hello, Percy.” She greeted him. She wanted to give him a more formal name, but felt that he didn’t deserve the title of Mr. Weasley, and she didn’t really want to associate him with the rest of his family. Hermione was sure that he would agree with her. Minister’s Assistant also sounded much too formal, and gave him too much credit. His given name, however casual it sounded, would have to do.
He stiffened as she spoke his name, and Hermione was reminded that Percy’s main strife was with Harry, and therefore carried over to her. She wondered if he would ever give up that grudge he held against Harry-although she wasn’t too sure what that grudge was. Perhaps Percy hated Harry even before Harry had been right all this time, and Percy couldn’t deal with it.
Hermione wasn’t an expert on psychology and didn’t care to learn unless it would help her friends, so she wasn’t too concerned about Percy’s mentality. When he actually came around, then maybe she would be more concerned about him.
Perhaps.
They stepped into the lift together, followed by a swarm of paper planes, energetic and pushing each other on the ceiling of the lift. There was a tense silence between the two of them, one that Hermione couldn’t think of a way to break. She pursed her lips as the lift door opened; announcing the floor for the Minister’s office and Percy stepped ahead of her, his steps uniformed and tense. It wasn’t hard to see that he was just as unnerved about the situation as she was, and didn’t quite know what to do.
Hermione had it in her head for a moment to just run from him, and slide her way into the lift before the doors closed again-perhaps stun Percy before she headed down to the Department of Mysteries herself to check out the mirror that they had found and needed the Order to figure out. Sure, the Minister was the person who was supposed to take her to go see it, but everything was too regulated and she despaired at the idea that she actually had to play by the Ministry’s rules.
She was a Gryffindor, after all. There was a reason that the Sorting Hat had placed her in the house-she had her own impulsive actions just like Ron and Harry. It was just that she didn’t quite act on it.
The passed an elderly lady who was staring at her in suspicion, but nodded to Percy with a kind smile on her face, saying that the Minister was indeed available and waiting for them.
“Good day, Minister.” Hermione greeted in her most pleasant voice possible. She was on strained terms with the Ministry already due to her reputation as Harry Potter’s best friend. There was no way possible that she would ever be able to get a desk job at the Ministry-they would always suspect her as a spy, and rightfully so. But she knew that Harry felt bad about that, that he had somehow tainted her reputation before they had even graduated and now the job offers she got would be much more limited. She had slapped him when he apologized to her. Granted, this was also after a major battle where Harry had been concerned that the entire casualty list was his fault, and she felt that a slap was the best thing he needed.
“Ms. Granger.” Minister Scrimgeour greeted her, not rising from his seat, but keeping his eyes on her disdainfully. Hermione was reminded that he had been the head of the Auror division, and to be careful about the words she said to him.
But then, diplomacy was her thing. That was why she had been the one chosen as the go-between for the Order and Ministry, after all.
“I will get straight to the point, Minister, since I assume you have better things to do with your time today.” Hermione folded her hands in front of her, letting them see that she was without her wand (it was still in her pocket, but she wasn’t about to notify them of that) and therefore defenseless in the aspect that she was willing to negotiate whatever he wanted to talk about. “About the object in the Department of Mysteries. Should we take the next few minutes to inspect it as to see what you think the Order should do with it?”
“Break it, I hope.” Scrimgeour said straightforwardly. He waved a hand toward the door to his right, getting up from his seat. “Let us hope this does not take long, Ms. Granger. I had several people bring the Mirror up to my office in case anyone had the idea that they would be able to break into the Ministry to… tamper with it, shall we leave it at that?”
“But of course.” Hermione schooled her expressions, trying to draw on what she had learned from Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin about diplomacy. It was best to settle things peacefully, and not give into the taunts made by the other side.
The three of them shuffled into the small room on the side, Percy being the first one in the door, followed by Hermione, and then backed by the Minister. Hermione gritted her teeth, recognizing the technique to surround her in case she decided on any unsavory tactics.
The room was small, perhaps the size of a tiny bedroom, and at the end of it was a full-length mirror, covered with white sheets that were spelled to bind it tightly. She thought of the Veil that Sirius had fallen through, with its black curtains that seemed to draw a person in.
Minister Scrimgeour murmured a spell and with a wave of his wand, the sheets were drawn back to reveal an ovular mirror with gold embellishing on the sides, runes carved intricately and wound tightly together in a way that made Hermione itch to touch and study it. She had never seen runes wound into each other in her classes at Hogwarts, as each rune was supposed to be strategically placed and not to overlap.
“I will admit this thing has been causing the Ministry trouble.” Scrimgeour was saying in a low voice, obviously quite irritated at the fact that he could not figure the mirror out. “There had been three wizards and two witches whom had been researching this artifact… and then one day they just all disappeared without a trace.” He shook his head, never once looking to Hermione’s direction. “Two days later, we found their decapitated bodies on front of the mirror.”
Hermione drew her breath in sharply.
Scrimgeour finally turned his head to look at her, eyes narrow and shielded. “This is where you come in, Ms. Granger.”
This wasn’t what she had expected. But she supposed that perhaps she should have been expecting this, ever since Percy had suggested that the mirror could be a form of weapon. Weapon against whom, though? Hermione had been studying curse breaking with Bill long enough to understand that sometimes curses had no other function than to hurt those people who attempted to mess with it. If this was the case, then the mirror was simply something that shouldn’t be messed with-it was protecting something, but the destructive power couldn’t be used against other people.
Unless, she thought with a grimace, they managed to get people to mess with it intentionally. Just like what the Minister was attempting to do to them.
“If there is nothing that you need, Ms. Granger,” Minister Scrimgeour was saying. “Then I will take my leave of you. As you said, I have many more important things to be doing with my time.”
A younger Hermione would have perhaps jerked away from the mirror in shock, betrayed that they would leave her with a cursed object which had already killed many Ministry employees. But she was older, and wiser than that now. They would leave her regardless unless she chose to back out, which would further sully the reputation of the Order.
They had this planned out.
Hermione endured the bitter taste in her mouth, and nodded promptly. “I’m sure, Minister. I would prefer my privacy in research.”
He sneered at her before taking his leave, Percy closing the door behind himself and leaving Hermione in the small, dimly lit room.
She waited a moment before casting several privacy spells.
“You guys can come out now.” She said, and Harry and Ron appeared from underneath the invisibility cloak, Ron pretending to gag and brush himself off.
“What utter gits.” He said in disgust. “I knew there were things they weren’t telling us. The least they could say is that people have died because of this!” He waved a hand towards the ornate mirror on the wall. Harry said nothing, but was glancing at his own reflection warily.
“This is just curse-breaking.” Hermione appeased them. She set several loose wards around the mirror, prodding at it with magic to see if it would react within the boundaries of the wards.
It didn’t react, and Hermione frowned. At the very least, there should have been a twinge of magic to resist her prodding. At worst, it would have started to attack the wards she had placed up, and Hermione would have been forced to retaliate.
But there was nothing, and that made her more suspicious.
“What were those Minister employees doing that got them decapitated by a bloody mirror?” Ron was asking Harry. He seemed disgruntled. “It wasn’t just being in the same room as it, was it?” He was fingering his wand warily.
“Please, Ron,” Hermione said, exasperated. “If that were the case, the Minister would already be dead. The objective of cursed items is only to attack if it is attacked. Being the same room doesn’t count for anything. You’d actually have to be trying to break it for it to retaliate so harshly.”
“Well, I’m not one who’s up for seven years of bad luck.” He muttered.
“It doesn’t seem defensive.” Harry commented, stepping closer to the glass, his eyes studying the runes that had been embossed on the edge. “It doesn’t seem like a curse at all. There’s no magic protecting the mirror from harm.”
That was what her preliminary spells had told her as well, but she had not trusted it. Decapitated five Ministry employees. She had to be extra careful around an artifact that was able to do that.
Harry was pointing at a rune at the top of the mirror with his wand. “Doesn’t that mean… bridge? Connection?”
Hermione looked at it carefully, having half a mind to tell Harry to back up from the mirror because it was dangerous. But she had learned throughout the years that it certainly didn’t stop Harry from rushing into dangerous situations. It had only worsened after they had graduated and the war was entirely underway.
For a few months after Ginny died, Hermione had almost been sure that Harry was throwing himself into battle wanting to die.
She brushed the thought aside, not wanting to linger on something of the past. Harry was over that stage, and he knew how important he was to everyone. He wasn’t so selfish as to go looking for ways to die.
The overlapping runes… “Connection. Not so much bridge as a separation of elements that are not compatible.” She frowned. “It says… a connection between incompatible elements.”
‘That still sounds dangerous.” Ron offered.
“Yeah, like a bad potions experiment.” Harry agreed. “But at the same time, if that’s true, then maybe this really can be used as a weapon.”
“Not until we figure out what incompatible elements are being used here,” Hermione said, ever the voice of reason. She pulled out a rune pouch from her robe pockets, the sound of stones clicking together comforting to her in that she knew exactly what her runes did and what she could do with them. She spilled her runes out on the floor, matching up the ones which were pertinent on the mirror.
“That’s Ehwaz,” she said, indicating an ‘M’ shaped rune. “For transportation. Harry was pretty close in thinking it was a bridge.” The stared hard at the runes on the mirror before placing another rune on top of the ‘M’ shaped rune, but this time, she placed it horizontally. “And Laguz, which usually symbolizes water or the flow of water. If it were inverted, it would mean a fear and avoidance… going in circles.” She frowned. “We were never taught what it would in-between…”
“Maybe it leads somewhere else, and then goes back in a circle,” Harry suggested, having leaned down to study her runes carefully. “Like a Vanishing Cabinet.”
“Vanishing Cabinets don’t decapitate people, Harry!” Ron protested.
Hermione ignored him, pointing instead to the interwoven ‘x’s hanging down the mirror like vines. “Gebo, for balance. It can be a gift or a sacrifice, usually meaning a partnership or an exchange.”
“Well, isn’t that an odd idea to have on a decapitating mirror?” Harry asked somewhat loudly, giving Ron a look.
“Yeah, exchange as in ‘we keep the head, and you can have the bodies back’!” Ron grumbled. Both Harry and Hermione ignored him this time.
“Raidho,” Hemione identified, “For travelling… a journey. Or a decision that starts a journey. Usually a transitional rune, the last one placed to begin a spell. It encourages the user to see what is already in front of them and…” her brows came together in thought. “I can’t quite remember, but it was something about a… relocation or evolution. A change of setting.”
Hermione gave Ron a glare before he could say anything about relocated heads, and he shut his mouth wisely.
“This all seems related.” Harry observed. “Connection, transportation, travel. This isn’t a mirror that just shows you things, it most likely takes you somewhere else. Laguz means that we can come back from where we’re going… or else those corpses would have disappeared and never gotten back here to begin with.”
“…Does the idea of decapitation not faze either of you at all?” Ron demanded. “I happen to like my head.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron,” Hermione spoke up. “I happen to like staying alive just as much as you. But you’re the one to have suggested this idea. And we’re on a schedule here. If we don’t find anything, then we’d have wasted five days that we could have spent on war efforts.”
“We need to be able to find something here,” Harry said firmly. The other two looked at him, trying to understand his absolute need to end the war. It wasn’t as if they didn’t want to as well, but Harry’s drive was on a different level than theirs. The three of them had been grasping at straws the past year, feeling as if they were going nowhere and only being pushed in the directions that other people wanted them in. Harry, especially, had a hard time of the previous year, having just lost Ginny after her own graduation. He had been… different the past year. In a way that scared both Ron and Hermione more than they would care to admit.
They gave each other a glance before Hermione reaffirmed, “We will, Harry. We just need to be patient and make sure that everyone here is safe.” She tapped her rune stones in thought. “Everything that the runes tell about the mirror suggests that it’s safe… no negativity at all. Yet that doesn’t explain the Ministry employees.”
“Maybe it’s something other the other side of the mirror that’s dangerous and not the mirror itself.” Ron suggested. He shrugged when they looked at him curiously. “Just a thought. The mirror doesn’t say anything about where it leads, after all, if we’re assuming that it even leads anywhere. I mean… you were talking about incompatible elements, right, Hermione? Maybe it leads somewhere that’s completely incompatible with this realm, and that’s what’s dangerous about the mirror.”
“That… does make more sense.” Hermione admitted. She rearranged some of her stones again, lips thin in thought. The three of them were bent down low on the ground now, not ten feet away from the ornate mirror. “I just assumed that it was a curse that might be surrounding the mirror, which was what caused the death of the Ministry employees and that was the mystery that the Minister wanted to solve so badly. Gringotts has many curse-breakers in their employing, after all, and really, if it had been that simple, then the Ministry would never have even thought to seek help from the Order.”
“Well, that might make it a bit simpler.” Harry said. He murmured an incantation, flicking his wand to conjure up a ball of floating light. It was brighter than the dim lighting of the room, and the three of them squinted a bit to readjust their vision. “We can just send a magical scout the other side, right? If it’s truly horrible, I’m sure we can still use this mirror as a backup to lure Death Eaters to the other side. Best case scenario, Voldemort gets curious about this mirror, somehow makes it to other side and gets decapitated.” He sneered. “Not that I think it’ll stop him still. We’d still have to find the horcruxes before he truly dies.”
He looked over at Hermione, who was still keeping one eye on her runes, as if there were further mysteries that needed to be deciphered. “How do we end it over? Do we just touch the mirror?”
“It’s still too dangerous to go ahead and send a piece of your magic over, Harry.” Hermione reasoned with him. “For all we know, whatever is on the other side could latch on to your magical signature and follow it back here.” She paused as Ron turned pale. “As a matter of fact, I don’t know why we haven’t been greeted with what’s on the other side already, seeing as Laguz symbolizes the open connection between both sides.”
Harry shrugged apathetically. “We’d never know unless we try.”
A loud ‘thunk’ sound echoed throughout the room as Hermione slammed her pouch of runes onto the ground harshly, glaring at her best friend. “Just because you’re supposed to be the one who fights Voldemort in the end, Harry, doesn’t mean you have a right to play with your own life like this. The prophesy doesn’t guarantee your survival until the final battle, and I am most certainly not allowing you to put your life in danger so needlessly!”
Harry’s green eyes flashed behind his glasses, “It’s my life! I think I can decide what to do with it! And if I chose to risk my life for a possible way to win the war, then it’s my decision and I’d ask for you to bugger off, Hermione!”
Ron looked between the two of them with a frown. “Um, guys, I don’t think this is the time and place to be arguing-”
“No, I want to make this clear right now.” Harry interrupted, fuming. “You can’t just order people around like that, Hermione, and then use the excuse that it’s because you ‘care’. I know you care, I’ve never doubted that you care… but I need you not to doubt me!”
“I do not doubt you! I am trying to be the single voice of reason that just might get it through your thick skull that what you’re doing is dangerous, and that if you would only wait just a bit, then Ron and I could at least decrease the danger factor-”
“I don’t need you to do that for me!”
With a bitter glare at Hermione’s direction, Harry stepped away from them and not only sent the orb of light directly into the mirror, but stepped into it himself.
End chapter one!