A loud squeal echoed through The Burrow, making people jump at the breakfast table. Ashen faced in front of the bun she had forced her hair into, Hermione finally came hurrying downstairs, in a slim red dress and black jacket and tights but with no shoes on. The noise of the creaking stair made everyone wince anyway.
“I have no idea – why – Errol came to my window, but – ”
The sight made her stop, with the newspaper in hand. Ron wore his Auror uniform and Harry a dark Byzantium robe she had never seen before and between them, sat Kingsley Shacklebolt and Gawain Robards.
“Umbridge – ”, she pointed at the headline.
“Oh my goodness – ”, Kingsley aspirated, raised and joined her to snatch the paper. “Has it indeed leaked? I haven’t read the Prophet yet, too much work – goodness, yes.”
“So – ”, Hermione moaned.
“Loads of work ahead, too.”, Ron was as white as her, yet due to the place he and Harry had spent their early morning at.
“Christ – how did they get the details – ”, muttered Kingsley. “Fortunately they don’t have the date.”
“Date?”, Hermione gasped.
“There was a date under the sign on the floor.”, Harry got up with the photo and gave it to her. “Not a single drop of blood in her cell. Well, if you don’t count those gravity has – ”
“No blood – ”, she whispered and, glad it wasn’t a scarlet feast, stared at the sign in pink and the date below along with the letters MoM. “Holy Humdinger!”, Luna giggled upon that, standing unnoticed in a corner. “That’s – ”
“I know,”, said Harry. “His birthday.”
“How did they get into the cells anyway?”, Arthur asked. “Getting past the Dementors without Patronuses is already amazing, but – ”
“We are clueless on that.”, sighed Kingsley. “But it gives me enough reason to at last release them from their duty. Not only extremely dangerous, but unreliable now even.”
“But how are you going to feed the prisoners then?”
Immediate silence fell over the entire house, only broken by a distant rumble, supposedly caused by the Ghoul. Hermione’s widened eyes travelled from face to face that stared at her with utter disbelief and confusion.
“Hermione,”, Ron coughed.
“I mean, of course, most of them – uhm – the – the ones remaining – ”, for comprehensible reasons, Harry’s bored glare unsettled her the most, “Oh, come on! You can’t let them starve, can you? Yes, they are criminals, but – ”
“Hermione,”, now Harry said, in a way so close to how his father would have, it brought colour back to her cheeks, if only little.
“What.”, she snapped.
“Are you honestly meaning to imply you believed Dementors to be floating around with `kiss the cook´-aprons?”
Ginevra snorted into the remains of her scarce meal with a big grin, now almost all eyes on her, while the message slowly sunk in. Hermione tried hard to resist the look Harry still gave her, but the thought of rolling up the paper and slamming it onto his head from all directions was truly tempting.
“Elves.”, she gargled.
“Yes, Hermione, Elves.”, Harry confirmed, not desisting from his expression or her eyes even. “Don’t look at me like it was I who forced them to work inside a Dementor-guarded high-security prison.”
“What?”, that gasp escaped her so quick she coughed upon it.
“Hell, no!”, he gnarled so fierce she swallowed the last cough with a lasting ache in her throat. “There’s a kitchen in the Ministry that is connected to Azkaban, pretty much like the Hogwarts kitchen is connected to – ”
“Yes, yes, yes.”, Hermione whimpered, tears in her eyes from the coughing – and his glare. “Why does it always have to be Elves.”
“Because they have proven to be efficient?”, Robards blinked at her, not having lost his confusion.
“No, because they’ve proven to be easily enslavable.”, Ginevra noted to confirm her opinion. “According to you, at least. But unless you graduated and managed to sleep yourself up in the Ministry, I hardly believe you’ll be able to change that ancient fact.”
“I beg your pardon?”, bright red stood on Hermione’s face now and Ron’s swapped between the two.
“I’m just saying. It’s not the time and day to discuss SPEW. Talking about justice, yes, though another. So shut the fu– ”
“I agree,” Kingsley warned over her rant, “Although not with your tone. But if it hadn’t been for the massive number of Disapparitions, no one would have ever believed what Harry – ”
“Er – ”
“You were sleeping like someone had hit you with a stone,”, meant Ron. “I’d just returned from the lav when he stood in front of me, brandishing with his hand before my face.”, Hermione was even back to being as confused as their boss, who however had lost his confusion so quick it seemed he had transferred it onto her.
“See here.”, Harry went even closer and showed her the back of his hand, or rather, quite brazenly held it up to her nose.
“And?”
“They’re gone.”
“What’s gone?”
“The scars, Hermione.”, he murmured impatient. “From Umbridge’s detention.”
“Oh my – ”
“So? Are you going to the launch party?”, Harry then said casually with his hand dropping, at last studying Hermione’s clothing.
“Er – yes. I thought it’d be a good chance to kick her bums for that biography of yours. And well, now his. Or did you really think, I’d let you go there alone?”
“Okay. It anyway seems, someone wants us to be there. A falcon delivered me a single line letter in Gaelic runes the moment we returned from Azkaban.”
“Shall I trans-”
“No need. It said `snatch the bug´. And that’s what I’ll do.”
“Wait – you’ve been serious?”
“Yes, I’ve been serious, Ron.”, confirmed Harry. “Now even more. And if I think about it, I’ll buy that crap before another random villager burns all copies. This way I can say I know what I’m accusing her of.”
“It says here that they only took Death Eaters and that this time – ”, Hermione’s focus was back on the newspaper in Kingsley’s hands.
“The other inmates are in shock.”, Robards explained. “Those we could interrogate already, said they had come at sunset and went for Umbridge supposedly around midnight.”
“Exactly at midnight.”, Harry corrected him. “Woke up to it.”, he again shook his right hand that had born scars of his own handwriting for three years, but now was as if it had never been maimed. “I hope that’s the last time I felt any scar burning.”
“Likely.”, Robards blinked heavily, failing at pretending to understand. “However, they didn’t use any Silencing Charms. At least we have proof now, that Potter has been right. They are three, wearing masks and long hooded cloaks, so no one knows what they look like or recognises their voices. But that is all we can say for sure at the moment.”
“God – how many did – ”, Hermione moaned.
“They went for the whole lot. There is not a single Death Eater left in Azkaban. The blood came trickling towards us the moment we entered the building. They hadn’t even cleaned up. More than that, we were facing another message, in blood, telling us `Not this time, you lazy fools´.”
“We have recorded, as I mentioned, massive Disapparitions around the time the Prophet normally arrives at households.”, said Kingsley. “Most of them from places we did not even know that some sort of house existed there. Each of them Apparated so many times we could only locate their original position but not where they went. It is exactly like Harry predicted it. Once it was on the Prophet, they were gone. I initially believed someone might have passed the information to one of them because it happened while we interrogated the first inmates, but now that you show me this, it is clear it was the paper. I want the head of that person who slipped – ”
“No.”, Harry said curtly, all attention on him in a blink. “Whoever’s brought it up, I don’t think we’ll catch them. It might have been themselves even. That’s it now.”
“So you think that is – ”
“Like I said. The actual grand finale. It’s a new year after the war. There wasn’t a single murder since before Christmas. They didn’t want to disturb peace. It all came down to exactly that moment. The four murders at the beginning of term, the rest of those in the Ministry at Hallowe’en, and now Azkaban. The murders in between were only to spare some work after the big bang. Umbridge’s been a pain in the arse for everyone. They took her last. And brutal, I can tell you; therefore I’m really curious where her blood went. They’d never done much to the faces but some slashes until they devoted to Umbridge. Cut out her eyes and tongue, nearly chopped off her head with some clearly small and blunt thin object and pinned her to the ceiling with a Permanent Sticking Charm. No one will ever get her underpants off there.”
“Oh my god!”, Hermione panted into her hand, visibly having difficulties with trying not to picture Harry’s description.
“So that’s clear then?”, asked Ginevra. “It’s permanent?”
“So far, we haven’t been successful.”, Robards sighed. “Yes, we are quite certain it is permanent.”
“Yeah. Blimey, it’s like someone told them what Snape threatened her with, remember?”, Ron chuckled. “Wait – didn’t you say once – ”, he pondered, staring at Hermione, who lowered her hand, paler than before the blush, though it had seemed impossible.
“Didn’t I say what.”, she mumbled, her eyes wide open again.
“In the Hospital Wing – you know, after Sirius’ death – didn’t you tell Snape he could – ”
“That was a joke.”
“What did you say to Severus Snape, Miss Granger?”, Robards’ eyes pierced hers, alarmingly eager.
“I – ”, Hermione gargled, “I said that he could pin her – to the ceiling easily now – since she was technically knocked out – and – and unable to defend herself – it – it was a joke – referring to a conversation I’d overheard. Just one of those quips everyone was sharing that year. There’s been almost no one at Hogwarts who hadn’t `planned´ killing her in the most ludicrous ways. But everyone knew it was just empty threats to keep up the spirit. I – I never thought – ”
“Who else has heard said conversation?”
“Professor McGonagall – a-and – b-but she’s got nothing to do with that – ”
“I am certain she doesn’t.”, Robards calmed her.
“She must have spread it among her colleagues.”, Hermione tried not to look into anyone’s eyes while she made up a story. “Such lines never really stop going around. Everyone who’s had at least one ear open while at Hogwarts can agree, I think, that there is always the possibility of horrendous ideas doing the rounds and if it’s absolutely secretly. It might have moved on to students who discussed it while going shopping in Diagon Alley – everything’s possible. They might have caught it up anywhere and thought it to be great. Just like those other – deeds – I – I – well, you’d better check the Auror Veteran Fund on a big donation – and Fudge’s house on massive vandalism – ”
“Cornelius Fudge’s house?”, Robards resumed his blinking.
“It’s likely the place her blood went.”, that in Hermione’s face went into oblivion once more.
“Very well. So you say, it is clearly no coincidence, but a message again.”
“Yes.”, she swallowed, gazing into space at last. “Definitely a message. I – I’ll better finish dressing. I want to get out a message too.”
~~#~~
Business was – flourishing. At least for George. The other shops were nearly empty as most people were stuffed into Flourish and Blotts. The rest left his shop for the place, trying their best to hide their purchases from the guards that were posted at the entrance of the bookshop. A large basket by one of the three was nearly overflowing with Weasley products that had been confiscated before their new owners had been granted entry. Grinning through a window on the first floor, George watched it all while his assistant served the customers. In unnoticed moments, stationed at the window exactly above said basket, Luna levitated object after object and let it vanish in her glittery round bag. Only Harry spotted it when they came waking towards the crowd from the Leaky Cauldron, but wasn’t tempted at all to bring it to Hermione’s attention. She had enough troubles dealing with her new red high heels anyway.
“Morning, Harry.”, one of the guards greeted him while the other searched the bag of an austere looking blonde with sharp nose and cheekbones.
“Morning. Spoiled things with Robards, have you?”
“Seems like it. Guarding that Banshee – personally I’d let them all pass. But command’s command. What’ve you done wrong that he sends you here?”
“Nothing. I’m here on my own account, fully authorised.”
“Like always.”
“Like always.”, Harry confirmed with a smirk.
“I’ve been freezing my tails off here since six. People say the Prophet’s printing stuff about Azkaban having had some revamp. Anything true?”, the man chuckled. “Oh no, no, no. Give me that, kid. No knives allowed in there.”
“It’s my grandfather’s!”, the boy moaned
“Then tell your grandfather to give you some better lessons about violence. Get off now.”, the knife hadn’t even touched anything in the basket but flew straight up, where Luna slipped it into one of her pockets, rather than the bag. “So?”
“Everything.”
“You’re joking!”
“Nope,”, Harry said leisurely, “They got the lot.”
“Wicked. And that old toad?”
“Ugliest chandelier ever.”
“Harry!”, Hermione gasped.
“Now don’t tell me you’re not glad too.”, he snorted.
“I am! But – ”
“Wonderful. Then stop acting as if you felt sorry for her. Now tell me, Bill, is there something I should know?”
“Why?”
“Well, Liz quitted before Christmas. Any idea?”
“Er – no.”, Bill put on a quite good poker face, but the slight panic in his movement as he searched another bag might have been one of the reasons why he had to secure a book release rather than dealing with mass murder.
“Come on, she’s had quite a change in style. No one’s getting fat so beautifully. That’s a well rounded ball she tried to hide there. Know what it’ll be?”, looking quite nervous, Bill leant closer and whispered in Harry’s ear.
“A girl.”
“Great!”, grinned Harry when the tall man straightened again with a childish smile. “Congrats!”
“Thanks. Er – listen, you mind getting me a copy?”, he flicked a thumb over his shoulder. “Firewood’s expensive and lacking some quality these days. Wouldn’t stick out all too much.”
“I’ll get it signed and dedicated with accelerant for you.”
“Fantastic.”, Bill laughed. “You’re a real friend.”
“You’ll get me one too?”, asked the guard by the basket.
“Got some U-No-Poo in there?”
“I think – ”, he rummaged the confiscated goods, “Yes. Here’s a little bag.”
“Thanks. If I can’t get another copy, I’ll mix that in her drink.”
“Harry!”, Hermione was ignored successfully, and the bag disappeared in Harry’s pocket.
“Robards won’t be too fond,”, snickered the guard.
“You think I’ll tell him who did it?”, Harry winked. “Right. See you guys tomorrow. If you survive the storm.”
“Storm?”
“Oh well, I think I saw someone slipping past you with a portable snowstorm.”
“Goodness no – ”, Bill aspirated and all three spun their heads, giving Luna enough time to lift five articles in a row.
“Never mind. It seems to be too hot in there anyway. And I think, I have a better idea. Stay ready. I want at least two of you following me, a little behind, ”, Harry meant and squeezed himself through with Hermione on his heels, which was not too difficult once someone had recognised him. “Excuse me,”, he nevertheless had to hold up his shining silver badge when a woman with a less good memory attempted to defended her position with muttered protest, “Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”
“Oh I am sorry – o-of course you may pass – ”, she blushed and pressed a groaning group against a dangerously jiggling pile of books.
“That’s Harry Potter, you dimwit!”, a woman by her side hissed.
“What? No – no way – ”
“And how he is.”, Hermione snapped and went after him before the gap could close.
“Don’t be too rude. They’d mistake you for a stalker.”, Harry said. “Excuse me, Sir – no, that’s not a fake badge, thank you.”
“Now to your question,”, hissed Hermione when they reached a somewhat cosy corner between books deep in by the desk that had been put up, “Why? Why? That’s is exactly why I didn’t want you to go alone! You’re acting like a – ”
“I’m just doing my job, Hermione.”
“And of course that consists of being absolutely ignorant and a conceited arsehole.”
“What if it does?”
“I hardly think so. Tonks wasn’t. Or Mad-Eye.”
“Have you ever seen them while they did their real work? I bet, Mad-Eye was.”
“Even if, that doesn’t give you the right – ”
“Since when does an Auror need to attune to former Aurors? You know nothing about that job. We’re sitting together in a big room, but once we’re out, it’s just each of us on their own. There’s no colleague or friend for most. There’s just suspects. Be glad I still take a look before I throw all civilians into a pot.”
“Harry, I just can’t accept what you become.”, she moaned.
“And what do I become?”
“A restless, calculating beast!”
“Maybe you failed to get hold of that bit of information, but the war isn’t over yet.”, he snarled in a volume to be heard by her alone. “You’ve been sitting in school, safely away form everything. People still get murdered! They get raped and robbed, Hermione! But of course you can’t understand why I plaster my wall with photos of corpses. Each photo more means at least ten other people living a much more secure life, or living at all! Sure, it’s horrible what they do, but they have to square it with their conscience, not I. I personally sleep better, knowing there’s less of the real monsters out there that could harm Ginevra or Ron or you or anyone else close to me or so many other people who just don’t deserve more hurt. I thought, after more than half a year, you might have understood.”, Hermione took a deep breath and replied equally cold.
“Then that’s what it is? All for – a greater good?”
“If that’s how you see it, yes. It is for some greater good”, Harry crossed his arms. “It’s not my fault that Grindelwald had a slightly different imagination of what such a line could mean. There’s enough criminals left without a scar on their arm. I’m really, really grateful that someone’s there to help me getting rid of the worst of them.”
“And I agree with you that these monsters have no right to live among us. Yet killing them isn’t much of a punishment, even if it’s bestial. I’d suffer more if I was locked in among hordes of Dementors.”
“That’s exactly what differs us from real Death Eaters. We care too much. Azkaban nearly destroyed Sirius. It destroyed Lucius. Enough proof that they had something they cared for, something else than themselves. And then take Bellatrix. What’s Azkaban done to her, other than giving her horrendous teeth? Nothing. She sat in there, proud of what she’d done. Honoured it was terrific enough to be thrown in there and when she was out, she went on like before. The Avengers aren’t after guys like Mundungus. That’s still Ministry business; ask Neville, he knows enough of that. They are after people like Bellatrix. And it’s better if able killers get them out of the way than innocent mothers.”
“Attention, everyone! Attention please!”, called a woman from a door behind the desk and the crowd went almost silent. “Ladies and Gentlemen! It is time for another grand moment in a grand woman’s life! Please welcome with me, the charming Rita Skeeter!”
“Oh yes. Really charming.”, grunted Hermione as modest applause filled the shop.
And here it was. The gleeful malice among smiles, framing two even rows of shiny teeth, three golden studs twinkling, like the crystals on her spectacles. Her blonde curls were in far better condition than when she had done the interview for the Quibbler and her fingernails had regained all the beauty of blood-covered claws. Wearing a tight dress of shining green leather that matched her famous handbag and was flounced at the seams, self-confidence in person strutted in, the clacking sound of her high heels echoing over the clapping.
The sight downright burnt Hermione’s eyes and she decided to look at Harry again, who stared at one of the books on the desk, determination fixating the man who looked back. For a moment she could have sworn to have seen him rolling his eyes and the feeling was strengthened by a smirk that drifted onto Harry’s lips. She took a closer look, just to find the small, grim printed portrait running a pale finger horizontally over his own throat by the photo’s lower edge and wiggling his eyebrows once before the dark marbles below shortly flicked into their corner. Harry gave a stiff nod, his chin resting on his left thumb and she could clearly see the faint gesture: he tapped his index finger to his temple three times.
“Goodness sake!”, she hissed at him. “Are you plotting to drive her into insanity?”
“And if, would you mind?”, Harry grumbled.
“No – but – but – and why did you want them to – ”, her head shortly spun to see whether the guards were really behind them.
“What an honour it is to be standing here for the fourth time within little more than half a year!”, Skeeter sang after she had silenced the applause. “Especially in such troubling times, when people surely have more important things to do than reading books.”
“Yeah. Like burning them.”, someone whispered from the stairs above, but Skeeter ignored the snickering it caused.
“What makes me even more proud that my work still gathers so many. I can assure you, you will not be disappointed. After all, you will soon get to know the true self of such a withdrawn man, whose life has ended so tragically.”
“He sacrificed himself with far more valuable pride than there is reeking from your awful trap.”, Hermione said a little louder than she had meant to, and to her bad, was recognised.
“If that is not our Little Miss Perfect!”, Skeeter laughed balefully and sat down on the edge of the desk, pushed a pile of her books aside and opened her handbag, the flashing green quill and notebook soaring up immediately. “Hermione Granger. The girl that never stops going to school. I actually had other plans for today, but I am sure, my fans can live with me doing my job. Of course you wouldn’t mind giving us all your opinion about your former teacher, before you find it tragically shattered? Was his treatment to your pleasure? Did you enjoy the suffers of having to bear his constant nagging? How was it to you, learning that he has killed Albus Dumbledore?”
“It would shock you if I told you how much more I know about the man whose legacy you are defiling with your disgusting bottlebrush.”, Hermione said grim.
“Oh she’s not defiling anything, I’m sure.”, Harry meant and Skeeter’s eyes popped out, her quill writing quicker than ever before. “You cannot truly disgrace without knowledge.”
“Now look at that! Harry Potter himself came to my party!”, the woman chuckled, and even more people were trying to get a glimpse on the desk area. “Too tragic, yes. No knowledge indeed. Do you still believe he has loved your mother? Loving her so much as to throw the wildest verbal cruelties at her? Real love, it was?”
“I was certain that you never had any serious relationship.”, Harry returned the malevolent smile of hers.
“You seem to be living under a very false impression of love. But why should you know what real love is – your parents died too early to teach you. Therefore it must be wonderful to have such an understanding girl at your side, not?”, her look was back on Hermione. “Would you say, you are capable of giving him the comfort a troubled boy like him needs? Or is your mere company enough for his welfare?”
“I am not his girlfriend. I never was.”, the anger that rose in her made her understand for a moment what it was that drove Harry.
“Of course not.”, Skeeter smiled and winked at her. “That new style of yours might be blinding others, but I can see beyond the mask and still spot the desperate girl that seeks for the closeness of the famous – ”
“I am – ”, she gasped – Harry had seized her arm hard, but didn’t take his eyes off Skeeter.
“You may be able to make her upset, but you don’t impress me.”, he said so gelid it made Hermione shiver. “Would you be so kind and let me have a quick look?”, Harry let go of Hermione’s arm and pointed on one of the books, which floated towards him seemingly on its own.
“Wandless summoning? You have developed some rather extraordinary skills, dear boy. I guess, you had plenty of time, on the run from Him Who Must Not Be Named?”
“His name was Tom Marvolo Riddle and he called himself Lord Voldemort. A good journalist names facts.”, Harry said as bored as if he was studying Flobberworms laying eggs.
“You know nothing about the work of a journalist, boy.”, she actually became slightly angry.
“`Youth’s cruel tragedies one after another shaped the man’s later bitter self.´”, Harry read from the book. “Fantastic! I found the first bit of truth you’ve ever published without being threatened to death! `Curled up between piles of books about Dark Magic, he enhanced his skills, developed his vile figments and became obsessed with the ideas of his fellow Housemates, as his opponents trapped him against a wall that would not give in and he saw no other chance than fighting their cheeks with harm, soon being not enough. Ruthless, driven by hate, he ignored the last people who seemed to be indeed caring for him and turned against them, encouraged by his new master, his new teacher.´ That is some really amazing stuff you wrote there. Only that it has one, single, flaw.”
“Which would be, in your opinion?”
“The rest of the book.”, he scornfully shut it under the laughter of many people and Skeeter turned flashing red. “How did you even manage to pay the publication fee? Hasn’t your vault been – mysteriously emptied in summer? Oh sure – I shouldn’t pay much attention to what The Quibbler writes, should I?”, and all the colour was gone from her face as fast as it had come. “So it’s true then? You’re still broke? Well, I know you are. It’s been reported to the Patrol by the Goblins. How much did you promise them to earn with the sales of your newest crap in order to let them publish it?”
“That is a truly lovely story you are concocting there.”, she was back at business. “But you have no evidence.”
“Don’t I? Well, I actually,”, he rummaged for his Mokeskin Pouch and pulled out a folder which he opened leisurely, supported on the book and his arm. “Here.”, he held up a photograph of several Goblins bustling an empty vault that had nothing but a big bright golden smiley face drawn magically onto the back wall; held it high to show it to the people around. “Wasn’t that your vault? Or perhaps, that here – ”, he replaced it with the photo of what appeared to be a huge bonfire, doing the same. “I see, that’s where your money went. Guess, the Quibbler was wrong. Not fake money, your money. But it didn’t seem to have returned to your vault at all. Interesting.”, he closed the folder with a snap that made Hermione startle at the gust that hit her and waved Bill and the other guard to them.
“What is this going to be? Hey!”, she barked when her notebook and Quick-Quotes Quill zoomed into his now free left hand.
“I just confiscated that.”, it suddenly was so silent in the bookshop that a pin could have been heard falling. “What I showed you, is just minor records. But the folder holds quite a lot, which will of course be laid open during your hearing.”
“Hearing?”, she panicked when the men stepped closer, their wands ready.
“Rita Skeeter, you are hereby arrested for being an unregistered Animagus who can take on the shape of a beetle,”, she winced at the spells that were cast on her for preventing her from transforming as well as Disapparating.
“You have no right – get your filthy hands off me!”, they had seized her arms and forced her hands behind her back, were they were bound by ropes conjured by one, while the other handed her handbag over to Harry.
“Thanks. You are arrested for being an unregistered Animagus, massive fraud, multiple libel, violation of graves, crimes against humanity, and for being a totally inept investigator. Severus Snape’s birthday was never on the twenty-seventh of March as it says in your book, but on the ninth of January. And people wouldn’t get your generous hint anyway.”
“You have nothing, boy, nothing!”, she spat at him but hit the floor.
“Furthermore, obstructing a Ministry Official in performance of duty, several cases of bribery, use of Memory Charms in order to conceal your scheming and making profit under false pretences. You will now be brought to the Ministry for awaiting your trial. I advise you to speak no more word until questioned by the Wizengamot or otherwise asked to answer a Ministry Official in valid charge. There is a fireplace in the back-room. Take her away, please. This release party is over!”, he turned to the crowd. “Unless any of you wish to buy a book in regular assortment, I ask you to leave this shop as refined as possible! Any copies of Rita Skeeter’s works in this bookshop are confiscated evidence as well and should anyone be found stealing them, you will be tracked and fined for it! Thank you!”
“Harry!”, Hermione grabbed his arm now, while Skeeter was escorted past the perplexed woman who had announced her. “You – what did you do!”
“What should have been done long ago. Everyone knows what she did for a living. If I can’t arraign her for that all, then she gets at least five years for not being registered. She’s got no money left to pay her way out.”, she watched him conjure some flat shields so no one would get to grab any book unnoticed.
“Famous Harry Potter.”, a voice from above drew their attention when the shop was much emptier already. “Still can’t go into a bookshop without causing some riot, the attention whore.”, Draco grinned, next to a dreamily smiling Luna. “Nice work.”
“Thanks. When did you get in?”
“Flew through a window up here. But it seems, Luna was even faster. Any idea why someone’s guarding an empty basket by the front door?”
~~#~~