Title: Inescapable
Chapter: The Fall of Secrecy
Author: Irishpiratess
Word Count: 2256
Genre: Drama/Romance, a bit of mystery (at its most mundane).
Warnings/Labels: time travel fic, some (unrequited) slash, HPBcompliant, mentions of alcoholism and depression, secret relationships, flashback fic. The only ships I can divulge without somehow giving away some point of the plot are HPGW (I usually don't like them- but their relationship isn't spotlighted in this fic), NLLL, and ADMM (but also not spotlighted, only mentioned in passing, as Dumbledore is dead).
Summary: Seven years after the simultaneous deaths of Harry Potter and Voldemort that marked the end of the war, the Minister of Magic fumbles to make up for past actions against the nine remaining of the Order. Unknowingly, he uncovers a long-hidden secret that a certain member Order had hoped never to divulge. Immediately following this, the nine are stuck together in a broken-down elevator, where they begin to learn the most precious secrets of one Hermione Granger. Can she learn to trust them all, or will she be too prideful and conscious of their reactions to divulge?
Reposting, because when I started in on chapter seven, I decided that details just had to be changed. There's not a lot that's been changed, but enough to make the rest of the story make sense later on.
Just a hint- pay attention to who's talking and looking to whom. Lots of unexplained stuff in first chapter that'll be worked out over a nice stretch.
Disclaimer: Well, you see, I tried to buy the rights off e-Bay, but it turns out that I only bought a keychain... so, you see, I make no money from this, and this is for entertainment purposes only. I formally disclaim this story.
"The Minister will see you now." A young receptionist glanced up at the sour-looking group in front of her desk at she spoke, sending the message that alerted her to the Minister's call away with an annoyed twitch.
The curly brown-haired woman was the first to stand, bouncing out of her seat with a determined look on her face; her expression was set in stone, fierce, angry, and unwilling to be compromised with. A tired-looking woman with a mass of red curls springing from her head followed close after, sending her friend wary, hesitant looks.
Next to stand was a man that, with his shock of messy hair, was probably the second girl's brother; tall and freckly, looking worn-down in life, he was carefully examining the back of the brown-haired girl's head as he slowly followed her towards the hallway that led to the Minister's office.
Third was a tall man, with hollow, sable eyes and hair of the same color. He was older than the first four and seemed to carry a load on his shoulders; scowling, he tried to avoid looking at the group in front of him. He glanced behind him, at an elderly woman who had been sitting on the bench, her head leaned against the wall, with her eyes closed.
"Minerva." He hissed, and the woman's eyes fluttered open.
Standing hurriedly, she fell into step beside him, looking serious, but not quite as angry as the rest.
Sighing, the remaining four stood together, with the air of someone determined to get something over with. They were two couples. One was in their mid-twenties; a brown-haired, kind-looking man with a blonde-haired, vague-looking woman. Second was a surprisingly young-looking brown-haired man with a woman whose hair seemed from a distance to be a dark brown, though it had a distinctly purple hue.
The receptionist watched this parade of people storm by her with a stirring of interest; the remains of the fabled Order of the Phoenix, though slightly aged. She had heard one of them was a werewolf; in her bored, gossiping mind, she would have guessed it to be the tall, black-haired man, as he had a distinctly unfriendly feel to him. Shrugging, she turned back to her desk and began sorting messages.
"Hermione," the redhead said tentatively, "please, whatever you do, don't-"
"Don't chastise me, Ginny." The girl who had stood first cut off her friend, glaring at her fiercely. "I'm sure I'm not the only one to come here today that's angry."
"Of course you're not." Ginny frowned. "You know how I feel about this."
"It's been seven years." The angry woman retorted, clenching her fists. "Seven years, and now they want to talk to us, for Merlin only knows what."
The black-haired man was silent, lost in memory as he stared a bit of the ways ahead, past the redheaded man in front of him, but the older woman next to him was quietly talking, more to herself than anything.
"What do you possibly think they could want from us?" She asked. "The war is over, isn't that enough? Thank Merlin it is, but can't we just put all of this behind us?"
"Minerva, I highly doubt the fact any of the people here today will ever simply, as you put it, put all of this behind us." The man walking with her replied, scowling, suspiciously scanning the hall they trudged down.
Nothing out of the ordinary, of course, but years of training had made him wary and even now, he could not let it go.
The younger couple were silent, clutching to each other for support as they followed the first six down the corridor. Similarly, the purple-haired woman leaned heavily on the man she walked with, who had one arm pulling her to him, the other holding her hand.
"I didn't want to be here, Remus." She whispered to his chest.
"I know, 'Dora." He sighed, bowing his head and resting it on hers.
"You know I hate any reference to my first name." Dora replied, more out of habit than anything.
"Yes, well," he smiled softly, "it would not do for me to be calling you by your surname as everyone else does."
"What's wrong with Tonks?" She said defensively.
He didn't answer, but smiled solemnly.
The two women at the front of the group stopped before the door leading to the Minister's office. Hermione lightly traced the pattern on the door, but didn't proceed.
"You all right, Hermione?" Ginny asked quietly.
"Yes. I'm fine." Hermione snapped harshly, then her features softened. "Sorry. I'm just a little…"
"No, I under-"
"If you wouldn't mind, we'd like to get this over with." The black-haired man said loudly from his position in the middle of the group.
"Professor Snape, I do believe I'm not your student anymore, and you no longer have any authority over me." Hermione replied, eyes flashing as she sent him a burning glare. "As if my being your student ever made a d-"
"Miss Granger," He interrupted smoothly, mouth settling into a grim line, "I believe that this meeting has been scheduled for a certain time slot, which we may entirely pass over should you decide to stand here all day."
The red-headed man sent Hermione a confused glance, and his former Professor an angry one. Professor McGonagall merely frowned up at her colleague, but remained silent.
Exhaling heavily, Hermione turned the handle and entered Minister Hall's office.
Minister Hall was your average man. Thrust into a position of authority by the lack of anyone else to do the job, he had quickly grown used to the power and comfortable with his life. He had no wife or children, and often wondered why, but often thought, secretly, it was because his former girlfriends could never handle someone who held so much power and responsibility.
Smiling vaguely to himself, he looked at the gold nameplate on his desk and wiped away an imaginary fingerprint with his sleeve. He was quite proud of himself, and sometimes seemed to conveniently forget that he had only become Minister through a series of unfortunate deaths, resignations, and firings.
The door to his office swung open, and in marched a disparate group that seemed determined not to touch or speak to one another. The nine sat in assorted chairs that had been arranged in a semi-circle in front of Minister Hall's desk, looking straight ahead and carefully avoiding each other's gazes.
"Well," Hall said jovially, "it's wonderful to see you nine were all able to make it today. Would any of you care for a drink?"
Few of the people there noticed the strange, dreading look in Hermione's eye as she eyed the bottle of brandy. Ron and his sister, Ginny observed her with a confused look on their faces; Remus eyed the younger witch warily, eyes lingering on the light reflecting through the glass bottle of brandy; and Snape raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking between the proffered bottle and his former student.
The already-angered witch clenched her fists in her lap and shook her head, lips in a tight grimace. The others took her example, declining; Hall put the bottle away, and Hermione sat back, relaxing to take in the leader of the Wizarding world.
Overweight and overindulgent in his choice in clothing, balding and with a crooked grin plastered across his face, she couldn't help but notice. Some part of her turned to anger as she saw how friendly he was trying to be. After all that he had done, he could pretend to be on friendly terms with them, the last remaining of the Light? Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she restrained from attempting to Apparate out of the room that second.
"Now, as you are all aware, the seventh anniversary of the death of Voldemort and Harry Potter are fast approaching." Hall said calmly, as if speaking of the death of their best friend so conversationally would not seem insulting. "Now, we…"
The Minister's droning voice soon became lost on most of the group, who had taken to staring at other members of the group in an offhand way, for their own particular reasons. Hermione and Professor McGonagall alone remained attentive.
Ginny stiffened visibly in her seat and clenched her fists in her lap as memories came flooding over her. Ron, sitting next to her, noticed this and reached out, momentarily letting his hand rest on her upper arm. She twitched away, momentarily angered that the person who had caused her so much pain in the past would dare to comfort her, and he sighed in defeat, remaining silent.
"…and many people in the Wizarding community would like to see the people who survived the Order." Hall concluded, a slightly queasy note to his voice.
"Are you asking us for a press release?" Hermione said, a lethal edge to her voice.
"Well, I-" Hall's voice quavered under her glare, and he finally gave in. "Well, yes and no. See, we'd like to publicly reconcile our differences, exchanging our apologies-"
"No." Ginny immediately blurted, her cheeks reddening. "I refuse, as would any other person in this room, or I should hope. What do we have to apologize for?"
Some of the other group members nodded resolutely; Snape merely twitched his head in what resembled a nod and deepened his frown, glancing at their makeshift leader, Hermione, out of the corner of his eye.
Lightning flashed across the sky outside the office; they could see through the windows behind Minister Hall. A loud roar of thunder reverberated through the room for almost a full minute before dying away. Almost immediately after, another bolt danced through the dark clouds.
"But, we thought that, considering past actions concerning your organization-"
"Past actions?" Tonks huffed. "You couldn't possibly be speaking of the public slander or your infamous theories on our motives, now, could you?"
"Well, you see…" Hall seemed to lose steam, looking around at the group in front of him.
The queasy feeling he seemed to get in front of crowds came back, and the small part of him that remembered how he had obtained the title of Minister kicked himself for ever taking the post.
"The Order will be accepting no apologies, public or otherwise, from the Ministry officials in place at the time of said slander." Hermione said brusquely, reverting to her professional tone. "I'm sure without discussion that I speak on the behalf of the entirety of the group present. We may consider accepting future apologies from future officials, but, until then, there is nothing for you to say about it."
He seemed to deflate at these words and took to staring at his desk in an offhand way.
"Minister Hall, if that's all you wanted to see us for, then I believe it is time for us to leave." Hermione began to stand, but the Minister interrupted her.
"Actually, Miss Granger, on a less formal note, I wanted to talk to you about your daughter," Minister Hall said, forcing his tone to be light. "Now, for Sara's birthday-"
The witch in question froze, and a confused silence replaced the tense one in the room. Then, she continued in her movement, standing and straightening her robes. He seemed to realize at once that everyone in the room was sending him odd looks; or, in Hermione's case, a murderous, disbelieving glare.
"I do not believe the matter is of any importance in this office, Minister, no matter how close your niece is to Sara." She said icily, then strode from the room.
The remaining members of the Order stood and followed after her, some, eager to find out what the Minister had been talking about; others, eager to leave the building as soon as possible.
"Hermione!" Ginny hissed at her friend, catching her arm.
"There is nothing to be discussed, Ginevra." Hermione snapped, obviously more angry than she had been when they had entered the office.
"Nothing to be discussed!" Ginny cried out. "I've been your friend for years, Hermione! I may not see you often, but I Floo you at least twice a month and I see you every holiday. Did you not see it fit to inform me that you had a child when you disappeared for all those years?"
Hermione ignored the redhead and continued on her way to the elevators, pressing the door close button as she went; Ginny forced herself in the closing gap and pressed it back open, sending her friend a glare.
A little hesitant, Ron stepped into the elevator, staring at his old friend with wide eyes. The rest of the nine followed, all staring at the woman. Hermione merely gazed stonily ahead at the elevator doors, and the metal started to grow hot, sizzling and glowing as her magic began to spin out of control. She blinked, and the accidental magic fizzled out.
"Mione?" Ron said softly.
"Yes, Ronald?" Hermione replied, gritting her teeth, without moving her gaze from the gleaming elevator doors.
"Um…" He faltered, not knowing what to say.
"If you have nothing to say, I would prefer we didn't waste our time with-" Another loud thunderclap interrupted her speaking, and she faltered, then continued, "with meaningless small talk."
"You having a child is meaningless small talk?" He said in disbelief. "Merlin, Mione, I've been your best friend for fifteen years."
"Fourteen." Hermione corrected. "And there is nothing to discuss."
With a loud whirring noise, the elevator slowed- Ginny started, it couldn't have possibly been 63 floors already- and came to a jarring halt. The lights flickered off, and Hermione groaned, closing her eyes.
Some things were just inescapable.
Reviews, por favor. I have until chapter seven worked out, and I wanna keep my story on the updated page, but updates should be every weekend, just to give it time. Any questions about the fic, please ask, and especially constructive critism (no flames, please- that sounds so overused...). When I write, it's like I have the whole world worked out in my head, and I sometimes forget that not everyone knows every detail of the world I've created- so if something doesn't make sense, please, ask, and I'll fix it.
In some of the future chapters, I might be adding little codes.
YAOROVSEUEETHNCS
This one is not mine, it is taken from Daniel Brown's website (credit to him, and his page designers), but it is an example, and I want to see how many people will understand it. Hint: a square is two things- in a physical sense, and mathematical.
irish.