AN: Holy shit, guys! Rogue stuff's gonna happen in this chapter! Isn't that exciting?! …Well, I think it's exciting…

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but a deep platonic affection for Emma Watson and her political activism.

Chapter 5: Sedition

Fleur kept a hand on both Hermione and Gabrielle's shoulders, trekking carefully through the forest as the two held their Rogue badges out like tracking devices. Finally, the tallest of the three women felt the brief sensation of being dipped in water as they crossed the ward barrier and a rickety and torn tent appeared before their eyes.

"You know," Hermione commented as they continued toward the tent, "when I told Jackson to make the tent look as shabby and unassuming as possible, I think he may have taken my orders a bit too seriously…"

"What? Jackson took his orders too seriously? Imagine that." Gabrielle drawled with a sarcastic smile as she ducked under the flap that Hermione kindly held open for her and Fleur.

"I heard that, Blondie!" Came the call from one of the back rooms.

"Is that okay?" The young Veela asked with a smirk as she sat at the large round table in the center of the main room, where Penelope Clearwater, Dennis Creevy, Bill and Charlie Weasley, Tonks Lupin, and a few others had already taken their seats. Jackson entered soon after, his arms full of blueprints and files.

"As a matter of fact, go fuck yourself!" The tall man retorted as he slammed the box of files onto the table, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he and Gabrielle bantered.

"Alright, lovebirds, we got work to do. You're gonna have to cut this make-out session short." Dean Thomas entered behind Jackson and sat at Hermione's left, with Fleur naturally sitting at her right.

The war had aged Dean more than others, but thankfully it hadn't killed his sense of humor. His once jet-black hair had grey running along the sides, and a clear scar stood out on his chin and shot up past his left eye to halfway up his forehead. His face was a bit gaunt and his eyes more than a bit haunted, but the spark of life that had made him the life of the Gryffindor male dorms never quite went out. He was one of the few things Hermione had left to be thankful for: Dean was a fantastic tactician and a better second-in-command could never be found.

Everyone quickly found their seats and looked at Hermione expectantly. Fleur rested her hand on the muggleborn's leg to keep her grounded as she started to address the small group that had been able to make the meeting.

"As many of you know, the Wizengamont is filled with bigoted, short-sided pricks who wouldn't know common decency if it danced naked in front of them while wearing a tea cozy."

"Don't hold back, Hermione, tell us how you really feel." Justin Finch-Fletchley responded as he leaned back a bit in his chair. Hermione shot the muscular man a savage smirk.

"Very well, the Ministry of Magic is run by incompetent boobs who spent the last ten years that Riddle was in power printing bullshit propaganda designed to vilify and demonize anyone not a pureblood. Muggleborns, especially, were victims of those fucking lies and because of roaring thundercunts like Umbridge and Malfoy, the muggleborn population of Britain has been cut in half either by emigration or murder."

Fleur kept silent as Hermione's rant picked up steam, knowing that everyone's anger would need to be fueled to make the decision to take over the Ministry easier. It was one thing to say you were going to plan a coup, but actively planning to murder and usurp governmental leaders was a whole different game of Quidditch.

"Even before Riddle came out of the shadows, the Ministry has systematically stripped away the rights of every magical being that didn't fit into their category of 'proper wizards'. Werewolf communities full of good people who just want to live in peace are forced to be nomadic and scrape by with the bare essentials because of unfair job restrictions. In the last war, I lost count of how many destroyed manors and homes we sifted through, only to find dozens of House Elves who had been ordered to die so that their cowardly masters could escape Riddle's forces. Vampires are capable of some of the most dangerous magic imaginable, yet the Ministry chooses to alienate and provoke them at every turn. For fuck's sake, these pureblooded dipshits actively try to annoy the very beings who have full control over the entire British Wizarding economy, and no one sees anything wrong with that!"

Hermione's gaze shifted to Gabrielle, who met her eyes resolutely.

"Veela are so misunderstood and stigmatized by our government, that there aren't even any laws against raping them."

Gabrielle felt Penelope gently grab and squeeze her shoulder, offering her comfort. The petite blonde subtly leaned into the touch, taking whatever reassurance she could get.

"All of this is wrong. Maybe not legally, according to these backwards idiots, but morally it's wrong. We made the decision as a group to keep a low profile for one year in order to give the Ministry one last chance to clean up its act. We didn't threaten them, we didn't bribe them, we simply waited to see if they would make the choice themselves. As many of you know, they haven't. They're willing to carry on with the status quo for the simple fact of 'that's the way it's always been done'."

Hermione's eyes flashed with pure rage as she stood and slammed her fist onto the table, her magic rolling off of her in waves and sparking at her fingertips.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm fucking sick of hearing 'well, that's the way we've always done it'. Magical Britain has been willing to sit back on its haunches and brag about its superiority, while the rest of the magical world continues to pass us by. The first time I ever entered Diagon Alley, literally two hours after learning of the wizarding world, I was looked at with so much disgust, you'd have thought I'd murdered every puppy and kitten in the world. I've heard the term 'mudblood' more times than I can count while at Hogwarts, and I know that the same has happened to most of you."

Many at the table looked back at their leader with solemn expressions as everyone silently relived their own personal experiences of prejudice at the hands of pureblood fanatics.

"On the other hand, the witches of Beauxbaton stayed in the castle an entire year, and while they certainly weren't the most social ladies in the world," the entire group, even the Veela, chuckled "I never once heard a disparaging comment about my ancestry from any of them. Hell, Durmstrang has a reputation for teaching the Dark Arts, and their most popular student escorted me to the Yule Ball! What the fuck kind of society do we live in where a school steeped in ill-repute is less prejudiced than the 'premier Wizarding school in Europe'?"

Fleur's eyes darkened a bit as she watched her wife build to her conclusion. Merlin, the brunette was so fucking sexy when she was passionate! It was taking all of the former Triwizard champion's self-control not to lick her lips at the sight.

"I think I speak for all of us when I say that we've given the Ministry long enough to get its head out of its arse. They're not interested in changing because change would mean that the limp-dicked pureblood fanatics would have to surrender some of their power to us lowly 'half-breeds'. We've spent the past year quietly gathering intel and recruiting sympathetic people within the Ministry, and I believe it's time to put all of that to use. I think it's time that Magical Britain saw a regime change."

"Right on, Granger! That's the first sensible thing you've said all year!" Dennis shouted as he slammed a calloused hand onto the table. "My brother died in the final battle for those fucking pricks, and he doesn't even get a passing mention in the Daily Prophet for it, never mind any fucking Orders of Merlin!"

The others started to speak up, finally having a somewhat public forum to air their grievances.

"Remus gave everything to save some of those Wizengamont bastards from Riddle's assassins," Tonks quietly growled, her fist clenched on the table in fury, "and the few loyal Aurors left burned his body before I had a chance to retrieve it. 'Werewolf disposal procedure' they called it. I still remember the look on Dawlish's face when he did it, he looked downright gleeful! I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye…"

The former Auror sobbed into her hands as Bill put a comforting arm around her shoulders. The death of Remus Lupin and his forced cremation was a sore spot among the Rogues, even six years later.

"We lost our entire family," Charlie snarled, his once peaceful aura gone years ago, "every last one of them sacrificed themselves to save Magical Britain, and I still get called a blood traitor every time I walk past those fuckers. Did you know I spent a month in a Ministry holding cell for punching out one of the Ministry donors? He'd offered me a knut to buy a shoebox to bury my parents in."

"I worked at the Ministry for years before Riddle took over." Penelope said softly. "I wouldn't 'service' the piece of shit above me, and I spent years getting passed over for promotions that went to idiots who don't know their assholes from a hole in the ground. My ability means nothing to these people."

One by one, each Rogue gave their account of life after the Second War. Hermione stood silently, content to let them stoke the flames in their hearts. As the conversation started to die down, she looked at Dean encouragingly. He stared at the table top as he whispered, his voice still managing to carry through the now silent group.

"They still won't tell me where my mother is. I don't even know if she's alive or dead." The dark-skinned man spat at the floor, his feelings on the Ministry very clear. Hermione rested her metallic hand on the man's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"We all have our reasons for wanting a new government." Hermione said, turning her attention back to the room. "Truth be told: I firmly believe that more people want change than are willing to admit. The bigots will fuss and cuss, but if we can take the power out of their hands, I know that we can make Magical Britain into the place we expected when we first received our Hogwarts letters. It won't be easy, and we'll be forced to do things that we may never forgive ourselves for, but I know we can do this. Who's with me?"

There was no hesitation as every wand rose. Every witch and wizard in the tent would have gladly followed Hermione into Hell itself. The brunette nodded, her eyes shining with pride as she sat back down.

"Alright, let's start with updates. Penelope?"

The former Ravenclaw prefect opened a small notebook in front of her and flipped to the page she needed.

"Well, you won't be surprised to hear that every muggleborn working for the Ministry will support us. I've also got Clonch and Justin working on the lower-ranking fence-sitters. I'm optimistic, but we'll need more time to convert them. Subtlety requires patience, and you can't exactly just walk up to them and go, 'Hey, fancy overthrowing the government on Tuesday?'"

"Don't stress too much over time." Hermione assured the skinny blonde. "We still have some negotiations to finish up before we can make any big moves. Until then, focus on getting as many people out of the firing line as possible. At this point, I'll take neutrality over spilling any more blood than absolutely necessary."

"Speaking of which," Bill interjected, "I heard you were at Gringott's the other day, Hermione?"

The brunette rolled her eyes in response. "I'm pretty sure all of Magical Britain knows I was at Gringott's the other day. I wasn't expecting Harry to show up, to be honest, but hopefully I dropped enough hints to make people think I've left Britain for good."

"I don't know about 'for good', but the Ministry scuttlebutt definitely thinks that you've left the country." Jackson confirmed. Being a gopher between the departments certainly had its perks. "Actually, the bigots are relieved about it. They think that with you gone, the 'lesser beings' will stop grumbling and toddle off back to their 'proper place' in society."

"Under the Ministry's boot-heel…" Charlie muttered with a dark glare.

"Quite." Hermione concurred. She'd always appreciated Charlie's bluntness. "So, that means I'm going to have to be careful not to make any appearances in Magical Britain until we're ready to move. The more comfortable the bigots are, the more likely we'll catch them off-guard."

"Fleur, Gabrielle, I think it'd be best if you go underground, too." Dean suggested to the two Veela. "If someone spots either of you without Hermione nearby, that may raise some red flags."

"I think you're right, Dean, but I really don't like that." Fleur admitted as she rested her elbows on the table and folded her hands together in deep thought. "Recruitment at St Mungo's would go much smoother if I were able to be there."

"I think we'll be able to manage, Fleur." Dennis assured the concerned woman. "Most of the healers served with you in the war, and the rest are pretty crabby about the recent budget cuts. Besides, St Mungo's as a whole is more concerned with its patients than with politics. I can keep you in the loop, and let you know if we hit any snags."

"That will have to do. Thanks, Dennis, there's no one I trust more to act in my stead." Fleur replied gratefully, causing the sandy-haired man to glow a bit under the praise.

"Getting back to my question:" Bill groused good-naturedly, "how did things go with the goblins?"

"We came to an agreement with our negotiations, and they'll be ready to provide aid when we need it. They've also agreed to freeze the Wizengamont's and the Minister's accounts when we strike, as well as all of the high-ranking toadies."

"They would be violating centuries of treaties to do that!" Bill said with a shocked look on his scarred face. "How in Merlin's name did you manage that?!"

"Simple." Hermione said as she wrapped a proud arm around Fleur. "I left it in my incredible wife's hands. She handled everything beautifully, and would have been able to finish the negotiations herself, but the Goblin leader wanted to make the agreement with me personally. Goblins can be a surprisingly vain bunch."

"I told you, sweetheart; the Goblin leader shaking hands with the leader of the Revolution makes for a better ballad." Fleur said as she leaned into the embrace and rested her head on Hermione's shoulder.

"Either way, we've officially got the Goblins on our side." Dean announced as he opened his own notebook and made a few marks. "So, that gives us the muggleborns, the squibs, most of the half-bloods, the Merfolk, and now the Goblins."

"You can add the House Elves to that list!" A petite blonde called cheerfully as she glided into the tent.

"Luna!" Gabrielle cried as she rushed to hug the Hogwart's professor and current editor of the Quibble.

"Neville sends his regrets that he couldn't attend." The former Ravenclaw said to Hermione over Gabrielle's silvery hair. "He's covering for me at the castle, so I don't have much time."

"I'm just glad you were able to come, at all." Hermione admitted with a small smile as she stood to greet her old friend. "So, you were able to sway the elves? How'd you manage it, they're bound by some of the strongest Loyalty Oaths in existence!"

"True, but it turns out that those oaths are conditional." Luna reported happily, her normally spacey eyes completely focused with accomplishment. "One of the conditions was that wizards would allow the elves to govern themselves internally, including dealing with their dead brethren. When the final battle took place, quite a few elves gave their lives to help end Voldemort; however, instead of allowing the others to collect their bodies, the Unspeakables decided to take them in order to study Elven anatomy and magic."

"For a whole year?" Asked an incredulous Tonks.

"They've had quite a few bodies to work with." Luna replied grimly. "But Elven custom dictates that their bodies aren't to be defiled in such a manner, as it hinders the elf's soul from being reborn."

"I didn't know elves believed in re-incarnation." Fleur muttered.

"It's not a matter of belief." The little blonde replied. "elves undergo a ritual when they die where their brethren preserve their bodies and mourn them for three days. Once the mourning period is over, female elves who are able to produce offspring sit with the body until the soul is ready to leave it. The soul then chooses one of the females to be its new mother. Apparently, that's how House Elves typically reproduce, though they can also do it the old-fashioned way to prevent stagnation. Damaging the body causes damage to the soul because it's still using that vessel, causing it to eventually become too weak to leave. Once that happens, the soul is trapped forever."

"That's horrible!" Gabrielle cried, while most of the Rogues present looked rather green at the thought.

"It is. I've managed to convince the elves to continue on as normal, but they've been debating all-out war with wizards for a few months, now."

"Wait, what about the Black Elves?" Hermione asked as she re-took her seat, her hand instinctively finding Fleur's. "They had a tradition of cutting off their heads and mounting them on the wall."

"That's actually a very rare case, as the Elven family in question chose to damage themselves in that way. They also reproduced by interbreeding, which is also pretty rare among House Elves. The Black family was one of the very few purebloods that gave any thought to what happens to a dead elf. Most don't even notice, as long as their tea isn't late."

The silence that followed Luna's statement was absolute as the Rogues tried to digest what they'd just learned.

"While I hate that they've been forced to go through something so terrible, I am very grateful for their support." Hermione finally said as she stared at her and Fleur's interlocked hands. After another moment, brown eyes met silvery ones. "Please let the House Elves know that we'll do everything in our power to get the bodies to them as quickly as possible. Penelope, can you divert some resources to this?"

"I'll take care of it, Hermione." The former prefect said with steel in her voice. "Even if I have to personally steal every last elf out from under their noses."

"Just do what you can to keep it from coming back to the House Elves." Luna warned. "If the Ministry thinks they're openly defying them, it could lead to open conflict."

"Don't worry, the Department of Mysteries has a habit of making things disappear." Penelope assured her former housemate. "By the time I'm done, I'll have them thinking the remains were destroyed on the Minister's orders. I'll come up with a good excuse."

"Use whatever resources you need." Hermione ordered. "Luna, thank you for taking care of this, you and Neville have been invaluable."

"We're just glad we can help. Neville's having a bit more trouble with the Centaurs, but we'll let you know the second we get a breakthrough." Luna checked her watch. "I have to get back to the castle, but let me know if anything else comes up. Dean, I'll be in touch about any other requests from the elves."

"Please do, and I'll do my best to see them met." The dark man promised. "Be safe out there, Luna."

"You do the same." She replied as she gave Gabrielle one last hug before disappearing through the tent flap. Once the sounds of her soft footsteps faded, the group returned their attentions to the meeting.

"Well, I think we've covered anything that needs covering today, and we all need some time to digest what we've learned." Hermione said to the relief of the others. She hadn't expected this meeting to be as information-heavy as it was, but she was happy to see the progress being made. "As usual, go to Dean if you need any new orders, and keep up the recruitment efforts. With luck, we'll be able to pull this off without too much open fighting. Keep your badges handy, I'll be sending you the next meeting location by next week. Any questions before we end this meeting?"

Jackson's hand flew up.

"Yeah, what happened to your arm?"

"It went on a long journey of self-discovery."

"Are you sure you'll be alright, Gabby?" Fleur fussed lightly as she hugged her sister yet again, who exchanged a wry smile with Hermione over the older Veela's shoulder.

"I'm fine, Fleur." The younger blonde assured as they all stood outside the small cabin they'd been sharing for the past few weeks leading up to Nott's trial. "I'm just going to go home and let Maman and Pere know what's been going on. You two have been taking such good care of me since the trial, but I think you could use a bit of alone time."

"You know you're not a bit of a bother, Gabby?" Hermione assured as she stood behind Fleur, watching the sisters interact with protective eyes.

"I know, but we've only got a bit longer before we're going to be very busy, and you two need to enjoy some time together before then." The smaller woman replied as she picked up her weightless bag.

"Alright, keep your badge on you;" Hermione said as she wrapped her sister-in-law in a firm but loving hug, "when the vampire community finally gets back to us, we're gonna need your help with the negotiations."

"I'll be ready whenever you need me." Gabrielle promised as she kissed Hermione's cheek before touching her portkey necklace and vanishing to Delacour Manor.

Hermione stared at the small indention left behind in the grass for a few moments more before Fleur's slender arms wrapped around her waist. The shorter woman shivered as pale pink lips planted light kisses along her sensitive neck.

"It would seem that I've been left with a certain little pet for company." Fleur murmured in that dark, possessive way that never failed to light a fire in the brunette's centre.

"Mmmmm, I certainly hope I can keep you entertained." Hermione replied as she turned around and allowed the taller woman to capture her lips in a deep kiss.

"Well, I have a few suggestions as far as entertainment goes," the Veela whispered as she gently nibbled the bottom lip before her "if my pet thinks she has the energy for it."

"I always have energy for you, Mistress." Hermione replied before murmuring a feather-light charm onto herself. Fleur murmured in approval before picking the shorter woman up and wrapping her legs around her waist. Their lips locked again as the Veela carried them inside.

AN: Next chapter will be a sex interlude, in case you want to skip it! Thanks for reading!