章 68: Success
Everyone voted Mrs. Marchbanks in as the chairwoman and then they began to plan their subterfuge cunningly. The first part of their plan involved proving to fathers, husbands, and sons how utterly innocuous the Ladies Aide Society was. They decided that the easiest way to do that was to focus all of their attention for the time being on St. Mungo's. The hospital would never know what hit it. They formed a Potions committee, a Bake Sale committee, a sewing committee, and a fundraising committee. Hermione joined all of them. She was eager to get home and start driving her father up the wall. She insisted that the sewing committee and the Bake Sale committee have their first meetings at her father's house.
"Hermione Canopia Potter!" Charlus' voice thundered through the house. James and Sirius looked up in surprise and hurried down to Charlus' study in time to see an angelic Hermione approach her father.
"Yes, Daddy?" she asked sweetly. He glared at his daughter.
"The house elves inform me that not only can they not provide me with lunch, but that I must not enter the kitchens…under your orders," Charlus informed his daughter stiffly. She smiled sweetly at him.
"That's because they're making goodies for the bake sale at St. Mungo's," she explained.
"Bake sale?" Her father repeated, momentarily nonplussed. She nodded eagerly.
"Yes, to help fund the purchase of equipment for the hospital and to help poorer families receive the medical care they need," she explained. "It's our Ladies Aide Society work. I told you all about it."
"You did?" He said doubtfully. She nodded.
"I did, Daddy. You said that at least I'd be out of trouble. I'm on the Bake Sale committee and the sewing committee. Oh, by the way, the sewing committee is going to be using your study tomorrow while we make quilts for long-term patients at St. Mungo's," Hermione told her father with an earnest expression.
"My study? Why in Merlin's blue blazes would you need my study?"' Charlus thundered some more. Hermione blinked at him.
"Why, for the excellent built-in protections. We're going to sew warming charms, cheering charms, and health charms into each quilt," she said with a surprised look, as though her father should have figured that out on his own.
It took exactly one month for Charlus to completely lose his temper and kick the Ladies Aide Society out of his house. Frankly, Hermione had become irritated that it was taking so long and had ramped up efforts to upset her father. Every time he sat down, he was pricked by a quilting needle 'accidentally' left in his chair. His parlors were filled with completed quilts and boxes his daughter called care packages. They'd taken over his study, made sure he couldn't get food on a regular basis, filled rooms of the house with 'under-privileged children' who were being treated with cookies and juice, and she'd had inane giggling women who spoke of nothing but fashion and their marriage prospects, but it had taken the theft of his Daily Prophet to make her father lose his temper.
"That's it!" He had bellowed at the top of his lungs. "No more! My house is longer going to be used for the Ladies' Aide Society. Get them all out of here, NOW!"
James and Sirius had come running, followed by Lily, Remus and Dorea. Hermione was weeping piteously crying about all the 'poor children' and the sick people at St. Mungo's who desperately needed her help.
"What if Hermione uses her own dower houses?" Lily suggested. "They all have armies of house elves, they can help her."
"Fine," Charlus Potter had snarled at his daughter. "Use the damn dower houses. Fill them to overflowing with the vapid sewing circle. Let the house elves fill your parlors with cookies. Just get it all out of my house."
"If that's how you feel, Daddy, we'll be out of your hair today. We shan't stay where we're not wanted," Hermione sniffed and pretended an injured tone.
"That is exactly how I feel," Charlus growled. Hermione turned and flounced from the room. The Ladies' Aide Society was packed up and out of Potter Manor in two hours. Hermione smiled in smug satisfaction.
Ah, I love it when a plan comes together.
Mmm. I can't help but agree with you. There is a certain satisfaction.
Never mind.
What? Why did you sigh like that? I agreed with you!
No, no. The moment's passed.
HP/HG/HP
"On my mark, ladies!" Griselda Marchbanks bellowed like a drill sergeant. The air was split by an ear piercing whistle and the delicate flowers of the wizarding world began combat maneuvers. Hermione stood next to Augusta Longbottom and grinned with manic glee.
"Pathetic!" Griselda was screaming at a lagging woman. "I've seen arthritic wizards with one leg move faster than that! Come along now, the Death Eaters have already slaughtered the family with the way you're moving."
"She's rather intimidating, isn't she?" Augusta murmured thoughtfully.
"She reminds me of Mad-Eye Moody," Hermione shot back. "Are they related, by chance?"
"It's possible, of course," August allowed.
"They're not half bad," Hermione murmured after a bit. "Not great, but not a bad start."
"When shall we first use them?" Augusta asked curiously.
"There's to be an attack on the Fenwicks. Soon…less than a month? It's hard to tell, but I've set trip alarms, and I have spies in place," Hermione said calmly. Augusta nodded.
"One question, Hermione?" Augusta asked carefully. The younger witch turned to her and raised a brow.
"Of course, Mrs. Longbottom," Hermione said firmly.
"Why now? Why include us?" Augusta asked curiously. Hermione smiled and it was vicious.
"I was furious when my father refused me the chance to join the order like my brother, my soon-to-be betrothed and my blood-sister. Then I realized that I wasn't alone, that there were plenty of girls just like me whose heads of the family refused them permission. It's not fair. We have just as much to offer. We are just as skilled with our wands. With the intensive training you more experienced ladies are providing, we'll be a better, more deadly force than the Order," Hermione explained frankly. Augusta nodded.
"I was not best pleased when my own son denied me the right to fight along with him," Mrs. Longbottom snapped, her eyes dark with fury.
"None of us were," Hermione agreed. "That's why we're all here. We're going to teach the Death Eaters, and our wizards a little lesson."
Three weeks later saw Hermione marching up and down in front of a small group of women who were dressed in solid black jumpsuits that were charmed to slightly distort a person's perception of their bodies. They would appear as a black shadow, mist or fog. All the women wore black face guards that hid their visages. Every woman's hair had either been cut off or bound out of the way. Hermione's own long hair had been tightly braided and wrapped around her head under her face guard. The nerve spasms were almost gone, but she still had some lingering effects. She had chugged an entire bottle of anti-spasming potion and she had swallowed a tiny bottle that would suppress her Seer abilities for a couple hours. It wasn't smart and she couldn't use it often, but with the sheer number of visions she'd been having she wanted to guard against a vision in the middle of this operation.
"Right," Hermione began, tucking her wand into her thigh holster. "You are all here because you are the best. This exercise is a test to see if what we're trying to accomplish is feasible. Saving the Fenwick family is an added bonus. We're sending a message. No longer will the witches of our world stand idly by while they slaughter our children and our families. It is not okay, and we're not going to stand for it anymore. We're not going to stun them or disarm them. We're going to make these bastards pay. They rape and kill little girls and boys. These are horrible excuses for wizards and we are not going to let them have the Fenwick family. Mrs. Fenwick is one of us, but no one can acknowledge her in front of her family. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Lioness!" The woman shouted back at her.
"Code names on this operation, ONLY. Are we clear?"
"Yes, Lioness!"
"Good, let's move out!" Hermione brought her arm down in a practiced motion and her team all apparated simultaneously. She felt a quick burst of pride, but stomped on it. Apparating as a unit wasn't exactly amazing. Kicking Death Eaters in the teeth and stopping the destruction of a good family was.
The Death Eaters never saw them coming. Hermione's unit moved as a team, they had their orders and they knew that the top priority was rescuing the Fenwick family. Part of their group broke off and moved quickly to secure the family members, each woman had been assigned one family member to grab. All of them wore small pendants that acted as portkeys to get them out of danger quickly. The portkey would take them to a hidden safehouse. From there, the family would be moved to a secure location under a Fidelius charm. None of them were Hermione's dower houses because she knew she'd never be able to explain that to Sirius or James.
Moving quickly, the other half of Hermione's team attempted to neutralize the Death Eaters. Her unit wasn't messing around. Not a single Stupefy or Expelliarmus passed their lips. No, her girls were playing for keeps. Their wand work was dangerous and wickedly accurate. The girls spun, twisted, ducked and jumped to avoid the curses being tossed their way. They moved with fluid grace and Hermione allowed herself to be proud of them. White sparks shot off above the house and formed the rune for safety, which morphed into the rune for completion. As one the women in Hermione's unit touched their pendants and were gone. The Death Eaters stared at one another in confusion and looked around at the bodies lying on the ground. All of them were Death Eaters, there wasn't a single one of the strange creatures they'd been fighting. The leader of this expedition sighed heavily. The Dark Lord was not going to be pleased with them. He shuddered reflexively.
HP/HG/HP
"What did you think of the cinnamon spice cake?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed in concentration. Severus took a sip of his tea.
"It was a little dry," Regulus said. Lucius nodded.
"Hmm. What about the chocolate cherry?" Hermione tried again.
"It was a bit rich," Severus offered from his seat. Hermione sighed.
"I liked the banana cake with the chocolate frosting," Lucius told her. Regulus frowned slightly.
"I think the spice cake would be fine if they added some applesauce and made it a bit moister," he suggested.
"Perhaps if they didn't use such a rich ganache, the chocolate cherry would have been less overpowering," Severus said mildly. Hermione turned to the head chef of her house elves who nodded and was taking notes.
"Trés bon, Madame," the little house elf said politely. She turned back to her milites.
"Now, have you been approached yet?" She asked anxiously. All three of them shook their heads.
"No, domina," Lucius said with a frown. "We have all worked very hard to seem eager, supportive and ambitious for power. That's the sort of thing that the Dark Lord understands. He's put us all in key positions, which reminds me—I have two more I'd like to bring to you on the full moon."
"Of course," Hermione said with a gracious nod. Jamie and Sirius stayed with Remus during the full moon and it was the easiest time for her to accomplish anything. She turned to Regulus and her face softened slightly. "How is Rabastan?"
"He's a stubborn ass, is what he is," Regulus growled and then sighed. "He's fine. He's doing well even. It will be a bit early, but I think he'll be ready for you to mark him this year before I leave."
"Excellent," Hermione said in a pleased voice. She turned to Lucius. "We still need the Horcruxes before you can approach Dumbledore. It is the easiest way for all of you to prove that what you're doing is of the Light. Or at least of the Grey."
"This is very true, he has no reason to trust us, otherwise," Lucius agreed. Hermione snorted.
"He most likely won't trust you, regardless. Dumbledore did not survive this long by being a pushover, my milites. He is a cautious man and he trusts very, very few people in the world. I think it is one of the reasons he prefers being Headmaster at Hogwarts—the students are naïve and innocent. They are unable to conceal their true selves from him," Hermione mused aloud. Her three soldiers…her Dark Trio, as Old Hermione liked to call them…looked at her with narrowed eyes. They would be wary around Dumbledore. Good, they needed to be. They, too, could trust very, very few people if they were to survive.
Oh come on, you like your wizards like you like your chocolate—dark and a little nutty.
My wizard is not Dark.
He's a Black! And no offense, but he's a little nutty. It goes with the inbreeding.
Is that why you constantly drool all over him? Because he's evil and insane?
I didn't say he was evil or insane. You're pissed off again, aren't you? Hello? Hello? You know, giving me the silent treatment isn't very nice. It's not like I have anyone else to talk to. Hello? You know I was just joking, right? Right? I'm sure he's the least insane of all the Blacks. Well, except Regulus. He seems almost normal. Wait. That didn't help, did it? How long are you going to keep this up this time? Don't make me possess you!
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