Chapter 13

Harry and Daphne could feel the tension in the room when they walked in.

Daphne's father sat in the thick ironwood chair in the center of the oval room, restraints clamped around his wrists and ankles. Harry nodded to Neville and Dennis in the back row as he took his seat with Daphne, Astoria, and Lenora in the front row of the gallery. Luckily they were seated directly behind Ambrose so he couldn't see them. It would have added to Daphne's stress to have to deal with him glaring at her the entire time.

Harry reached over, took Daphne's hand and squeezed it gently in reassurance. They knew everything was going to become public during the trial, and they had spent hours talking about it that morning. Today was the day the Vanishing Princess would reappear, for good or ill.

Almost on cue, several people shuffled into the back row past Neville and Dennis, and took out parchment and quills that both hovered in the air before them, waiting. Two of them took out cameras as well. The stands on the other side of the entranceway began to fill up as well, and Harry noted Theodore Nott's entry alongside his older brother Jacob.

Harry's face settled into a scowl, and not just for the Notts. He had never liked the press, and Daphne knew why. It was her turn to squeeze his hand reassuringly, and he took a quick break from his glower to wink at her.

"Don't worry," She whispered to him, "It'll be fine."

Harry gave her a small smile and leaned over to whisper in her ear, but nibbled her lobe instead. "I know," He whispered afterward, "But I love you, so I'll always worry anyway."

"This needs to hurry up," She whispered back, "So I can get you home." She could see in his eyes he'd lit her fire on purpose and his eyes danced with their own flames.

He didn't have a chance to say anything else, the main body of the Wizengamot filed into the room and up into the stands to their seats. With their different coloured robes and ridiculous hats, they looked like a shuffling octogenarian sleepover party from the fourteen-hundreds.

Ron and Hermione filed in and stood next to them. Susan Bones also arrived, but stood in the back next to the press. Kingsley was the last to arrive, and took the podium. He was also the only one not wearing the black or red robes the rest were. He wore his customary purple and gold stylish, african-inspired robes.

"Order!" He bellowed, banging with his gavel. "We convene Magical Britain versus Ambrose Greengrass. Court Scribe!"

The Court Scribe of the day was a woman from Hermione's office, Velma Brixbatton. She was a tidy, bright lady who could easily be confused - in proper attire - for a parade ground sergeant. If she wanted to be heard, you heard her. No matter how far away you were. She stood and began to read the preliminaries.

"In the case of Magical Britain versus Ambrose Greengrass, held this day September twenty-fourth in the year two-thousand and three, the charges against Ambrose Greengrass are as follows:

"One! That he did knowingly and in flagrant disregard of the Treaty of Gold produce false currency with the intent to distribute such for fraudulent gain.

"Two! That he did willfully imperil the citizenry of Magical Britain by taking such action as to threaten a new Wizard-Goblin war.

"Three! That he did knowingly and without regard for the laws of magical Britain undertake to distribute currency without a license from the Ministry.

"Four! That he did knowingly distribute fraudulent funds to members of the Wizengamot."

"Five! That he did knowingly and willfully cast and maintain the Unforgivable Imperious Curse."

Velma nodded to Kingsley and retook her seat in front of the podium to resume the actual scribing of the session.

Harry leaned over and whispered to Daphne, "Figures they'd invent a charge of counterfeit bribes. Wonder how many of them contributed to that charge?"

"Too many." She whispered back, the sad truth evident in her disappointed gaze.

"And that it came before the consideration of cursing your mother." He glowered at the entire assembly.

Daphne squeezed his hand again, as she didn't trust her voice while trying to remain outwardly calm.

"On the fifth charge, that of employing the Imperious Curse, how do you plead?" Kingsley asked Ambrose loudly.

"None of your business!" Ambrose glared at him, "How I conduct my affairs in my own home is my own business and no-one else's."

"Let the record show the Defendant was uncooperative and unrepentant."

"So noted, Minister." Velma answered.

"On the fourth charge, distributing fraudulent funds to members of the Wizengamot, how do you plead?" Kinglsley asked Ambrose again.

Ambrose laughed. "Aww, did the corrupt politicians not like their bribes being counterfeit? Boo hoo."

Kingsley shook his head slowly and didn't bother to open that can of worms. "On the third charge, distributing currency without a license, how do you plead?"

"You can't GET a license for that, moron!" Ambrose snapped, instantly hostile again.

"On the second charge, endangering the citizens of Magical Britain, how do you plead?"

"As if the sheep give a damn! Voldemort and a handful of shit eaters nearly owned everything because the bloody sheep were too stupid and lazy to pick up the weapons they all carry already and say no! Fuck the sheep."

"And on the first charge, breaking the Treaty of Gold, how do you plead?" Kingsley looked almost sorry for the ranting Wizard. Harry knew Kingsley had seen people who'd gone 'round the twist from plying Unforgivables, and it was always a shame because it was preventable. In Ambrose's case, Harry was less inclined to be lenient since the evidence of Ambrose's mental instability started before he'd put his wife under the Imperious. That, and he'd called the woman he loved - his own daughter - a prostitute.

"Fuck the bloody gobbos too." Ambrose looked Kingsley in the eye. "We should be handling our own money."

Kingsley sighed. "Let the record show the Defendant is blatantly hostile. Congratulations, Ambrose, you've succeeded in requesting trial by Veritaserum. Aurors!" Kingsley motioned to two of Ron's junior Aurors, four of whom were stationed by the door. Madley pulled Veritaserum from her robes while Ackerly pulled his wand and forced Ambrose's mouth open with a modified bodybind Hermione had created to help Ron on the job. It was called Veritareception, and was a standard part of the Auror spell complement. Ironically, Ron was the one who used it least. He was tasked by Susan to make prisoners spill what they knew, and that was more effectively done by intimidation.

Ambrose's jaw opened and stretched forward while his head tilted back and his tongue extended. He held this pose while his eyes stared hatred at Ackerly and Madley, but especially at Shacklebolt. Madley dripped three drops of the clear liquid on Ambrose's tongue, then re-stoppered the vial and hid it in her robes again. Ackerly left Ambrose in his Veritareception pose for a moment, to ensure adequate absorption of the potion, then cancelled the spell. Ambrose retracted his tongue and closed his mouth, but the hatred was gone from his bearing. He simply stared straight ahead with glassy indifference.

"Is your name Ambrose Ian Greengrass?" Kingsley asked.

"Yes."

"Did you cast the Imperious Curse on your wife?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"She was going to leave me."

"How do you know?"

"I was pushing her away. She might not have left for years, but she would have."

"Why use the Imperious to make her stay?"

"I needed to control her. To control my life."

"You used an Unforgivable on the woman you claim to love just to satisfy your need for control?"

"Yes, though I haven't loved her in years, nor she me."

"This is getting a little far afield. Are there any questions for the Defendant from the Assembly on the matter of the Imperious Curse?" Kingsley looked to the rows of Witches and Wizards in the seats of the Wizengamot.

No-one raised a wand or a voice, so Kingsley nodded and turned back to Ambrose.

"Did you counterfeit galleons?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"I don't know exactly. Over ten million."

A susurration of gasps sounded from the Assembled Wizengamot and the spectators in the Gallery.

"Why? You're one of the richest men in the country!"

"I desire power and influence. It's just another symptom of needing to control."

"Let the record show the Defendant admitted guilt on all charges." Kingsley told Velma, who nodded as she took it down. "Are there any further questions from the Assembly?"

One wand raised from the Assemblage.

"Lord Nott?" Kingsley acknowledged the man.

"Did you sign a betrothal contract between your daughter Daphne and my son Theodore?" Mustalpho Nott asked Ambrose with a smug grin.

"Yes." Ambrose answered.

Daphne's hand clenched around Harry's. "Don't interfere." She whispered to him.

Theodore immediately strode out from the gallery he sat in and straight up to Daphne, where he grabbed her upper arm and attempted to pull her away from her seat. Instead, Daphne stood and used her legs to shove as she planted both her palms just under Theodore's breastbone. Theodore wore a mask of surprise as he sailed backward over the low railing that separated the gallery from the courtroom floor and landed hard on his back on the granite.

"Don't touch me, filth." Daphne commanded. Her voice was ice, cold and furious, and the mask she had worn for seven years at school emerged once again into the public eye - though this time it was not a mask. It was not studied indifference she displayed, but a cold and glittering killing rage.

Theo scrambled to his feet, suddenly much less sure of himself. "You belong to me! You're my property!" He screamed.

"I was never my father's property to sell, imbecile. I belong to NO-ONE."

"The law says otherwise!" Mustalpho yelled from the Wizengamot seats. "Legally you belong to him!"

"No money changed hands. The contract was never valid." Ambrose said in his dispassionate, disconnected voice.

"So legally, I belong to no-one." Daphne said, still glaring death at Theo. "But, since after I leave the ministry today you will never have another chance, I will give you one chance and one chance only, Theo. Beat me in a duel here and now, and I will uphold the contract."

Harry wanted to jump the railing and break Theo into a million pieces. It took every ounce of will he had to stay seated and trust Daphne. He did trust her, and she knew what she was doing. She was smarter than anyone except maybe Hermione, so he kept his cool and waited to see her plan.

"I accept!" Theo snarled, a hint of danger in his eyes.

"Aurors! Dueling wards please!" Kingsley called out. Dueling in a courtroom was technically not allowed, but what good was being the Minister if you couldn't take entertainment when it happened? He was tempted to start a small bet, but he already knew the outcome. He knew Daphne and Harry were close, and even in his prime, Kingsley himself would have bowed out rather than taken a fight against this Daphne Greengrass. She made the hair on the back of his neck dance.

As Daphne passed Harry he whispered "I don't want to lose you, Daph. Please be careful." She looked into his eyes as she exited the Gallery and entered the courtroom - now a dueling room.

Madley and Ackerly returned to the courtroom carrying four wardstones each, which they distrubuted around the room on the floor. They waited until Ambrose had been removed from the dueling area by Kingsley and Theodore and Daphne were inside the dueling area, then activated the stones. A shimmering curtain erupted from the floor and curved far overhead. When the curtain met itself near the ceiling, the whole thing became invisible.

Ron and Susan took postions by the door, wands out, and Harry turned to face Theo Nott's brother Jacob. Any sign of surreptitious interference and he'd incapacitate Jacob in a blink.

Inside the dueling wards, Theo pulled his wand out. Daphne did so after glaring at him for a moment.

"Wands up!" Kingsley barked. "Salute!"

Theo observed the command by nodding his head ever so slightly in Daphne's direction. Daphne didn't move a muscle.

"Begin!" Kingsley shouted.

Kingsley had barely begun the word before Theo unleashed a barrage of stunners. Either his aim was terrible or he was counting on her dodging in both directions at once. Instead, Daphne moved only her wand arm as she batted aside anything that came close.

"Pathetic." She noted dispassionately. Somehow in the midst of deflecting spells, Daphne had become a Queen, and she glared down her nose at the man who was her own height. She wore majesty like a cloak. Her crown was haughty disdain. "No wonder you're still single Theo, your wandwork is just pathetic."

One of the reporters behind Harry laughed, and caused Theo to glare at the woman. It was only for a second, but he seemed to realize his mistake as he was making it. He threw up a shield and jumped to his left at the same time. Daphne, however, was far too quick.

SMACK!

The sound reverberated around the courtroom, of flesh impacting flesh. Theo stumbled as he landed, nearly falling to his knees before her. He reached up to touch his left cheek and held his hand there.

"You hit me!" He whined. His eyes were still wide.

"You seem surprised, Theo. Are you more surprised that I did it or more surprised that you liked it? Did it remind you of the Slytherin dorms?"

"Shut up!" He yelled.

Daphne began to stalk him. She circled deceptively slowly to her right, toward the Wizengamot seats. "What's the matter, Theo? Hit a little too close to home? Is it the attention you miss or the abuse? Surely you must get enough abuse at home to compensate."

"Shut UP!" He was clearly angry, though frightened at the same time. Or maybe he was angry because he was frightened. He raised his wand again and fired another barrage, though this time it was all cutting curses. "Diffindo! Diffindo! Diffindo! Diffindo! Diffindo!"

Daphne had circled in front of her father, but he was still under the effects of Veritaserum, so he barely registered any reaction at all when cutting curses impacted the wards in front of him. Daphne dodged two of them and deflected a third, but didn't need to move for the other two. She continued lazily circling while she taunted him.

"Better Theo, but you're still using children's curses. Is that the best you can do? Flint must still keep your balls in his coinpurse, I guess."

"SHUT! UP!" Theo shouted. "Confringo! Diffindo! Stupefy!Confringo! Reducto! Confringo!"

Daphne danced just out of the way of each curse, using the minimum of effort, and making the entire thing look like a waltz. Harry felt a stab of pride and desire from watching her effortlessly provoke and evade her opponent. At the end of Theo's barrage, Daphne spun to her right and ended up in front of Nott's father's seat. The old man sneered at her smugly, as though he was bending her to his will. It was a good thing for him Daphne had her back to him.

"Shameful. What a shameful display, Theo. You know what you have to do to beat me, Theo. You can feel it bubbling inside you, just like Marcus's leftovers."

Theo blanched. "You can't..."

Daphne merely glared her icy disdain at him. "I'm curious what you miss more Theo, Marcus filling your arse with shame? Or the cuddling afterward?"

Theo's face contorted into a mask of rage.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" He screamed. The massive green bolt flew straight and true. It passed through Daphne's smiling face, blew through the dueling wards behind her, and slammed into his father's breastbone.

Mustalpho Nott pitched forward into the stands in front of him, deceased.

"Expelliarmus." Daphne said casually as she appeared three feet from where her illusion had been. Theo's wand sailed out of his hand into hers.

The entire chamber was engulfed in a stunned silence. Even Theo barely paid any attention as she relieved him of his wand.

Daphne crossed the short distance to Kingsley, who still gaped at both Notts with a disbelieving expression on his face. She handed Theo's wand to him.

"I think you'll want this for evidence." She said, then turned and crossed the room to resume her seat beside Harry.

"You're perfect and I love you but you scared the shit out of me." He whispered to her.

Madley and Ackerly busied themselves removing Mustalpho's body from the Assembly while Kingsley moved Ambrose back into position in front of the podium.

Ron and Susan placed Theo under arrest for the murder of his father and removed him to the holding cells to await his own trial. Harry thought that trial would likely be nothing but a formality, as the entire Wizengmot had witnessed the crime.

Kingsley banged his gavel several times, probably more to shake himself out of his stupor than any need to call for order.

"Madam Scribe, would you remind us where we were, please?"

Velma looked over her records. "Let the record show the Defendant admitted guilt on all charges, and then any further questions from the Assembly." She read back to him.

"Right, thank you." He nodded to her before he turned and addressed the Assembly. "Are there any further questions from the Assembly in the matter of Magical Britain versus Ambrose Greengrass?"

Again, no-one raised a wand or a voice.

Kingsley banged his gavel once. "Ambrose Greengrass, you shall be remanded to the custody of the Goblin nation, as per the Treaty of Gold, no later than noon tomorrow." He banged his gavel again three times. "This concludes Magical Britain versus Ambrose Greengrass. Dismissed."

The Wizengamot immediately stood and began to shuffle out of the the Assembly stands. Hermione wrapped her arms around Daphne and whispered "Don't scare me like that! I think my heart stopped!"

Daphne hugged her back. "Sorry, wasn't time to explain."

They were interrupted by the reporters from the back row. "Miss Greengrass! Miss Greengrass! A word please!"

Daphne let go of Hermione and leaned over to whisper to Harry, "See you at home," Then she stood up and faced the reporters.

"I'll give you two words," She said, "Mixtionis Perfectus." She vanished, but Harry could feel her pass by him on her way out of the courtroom.

"I don't suppose we could ask you some questions, Lord Potter? Please?"

Harry sighed internally, but stood and turned around to face them. "You can always ask. I may even answer."

"I'll see you later, Harry." Hermione whispered as she shuffled behind him and turned to leave.

"We'll call." He said as she exited the courtroom.

"Lord Potter, what is your relationship with Daphne Greengrass?" The reporter on the end asked. He was a young guy, probably only a year or so into the job. Every reporter to his left groaned simultaneously.

"What publication you with?" Harry asked in return.

"Uh, Daily Prophet, sir. Thurston Bowlby, Daily Prophet."

Harry turned to the other reporters. "Now you know who to blame." He turned and walked out of the courtroom.

"What was that about?" Thurston Bowlby asked as the other reporters muttered angrily.

"Potter doesn't answer personal questions, dumbarse!" One of them growled, "First personal question and he leaves! How do you not know that? How did your editor let you out without knowing that?"

Thurston's eyes went wide. "What? Since when?"

"Since always! Since the battle of Hogwarts! Where have you even been?!"

"Shit, my editor's gonna kill me."

"Never mind your editor kid, We're gonna kill you. Then our editors are gonna kill yours for letting you off the leash too soon."

"Oh. Um..." Thurston looked around, and noticed they were the only ones left in the courtroom. "Shit!" He hopped the bench seats and bolted from the courtroom.

Damaris followed the map she'd copied from the Atrium. It led her through winding passageways and through entirely unrelated departments, but after ten minutes of walking the map finally delivered her to the Hall of Records.

It seemed an incredibly stupid design to have the Hall of Records - technically a public domain - buried so far within the Ministry warren that no public would ever find it. Unless of course that was the entire point of having where it was. Bloody typical.

The Hall of Records turned out to be a tiny thing, little more than an alcove with a couple of desks flanking a set of three pedestals. On each pillar was a book, ornately carved with runes, bound and covered in silver. The front of each pedestal had a small brass plaque with one word on it. The pedestal on the left read 'Births', the one in the middle read 'Marriages', and the one on the right read 'Deaths'

She already knew all the names of all the twenty-eight supposedly "Pureblood" families in Britain, so at least she didn't need to consult a list while she was looking up names. Memorizing things saved time, and Damaris liked saving time for things she'd rather be doing. She lifted the 'Births' book over to one of the tables, and took out her inkpot and parchment so she could write down what she found out in the book. It would be nice if there was a faster way to look up and copy information, but there wasn't - at least, not that she knew of.

She had just opened the book when Brown and Yaxley entered the Hall of Records.

"Hey." Yaxley said. "You're Rosier, right? Ravenclaw?"

"Yes. You're Trianda Yaxley and Violet Brown. We've been in the same year for six years now. I've only just started my research, so if you need this book..."

"Are you looking up your family?" Trianda asked.

"Yes. Did you get the Vanishing letter too?" Damaris took note of their shocked reactions. Apparently neither of them had thought that anyone else might've gotten one.

"Wow, yeah, I did. Are you... Are you going to take her up on the offer?" Trianda raised her eyebrows and bit at her lower lip.

"I don't currently have any reason to. I'm here for the information. The letter highlighted a lack of knowledge on my part that I found unacceptable. Are you going to?"

"Maybe. Depends what I find here. If she's right, then I'll go comfirm she's right about the rest. If she is..."

"Why don't we work together?" Violet asked. "You were here first, so we'll do your family first. You look up births, we'll sit over here and look up deaths. It'll go faster that way."

Damaris could see that would indeed be faster. "Very well. I also want to skim over the other sacred twenty-eight as well and see if she was correct."

"Good, me too." Trianda nodded, then took the 'Deaths' book off the pedestal and put it on the desk opposite Damaris. "Do you want to just go alphabetically through them all?"

"Might as well. We'll get to our own soon enough." Damaris nodded back.

They went through the other families fairly quickly, as they didn't really care to study the information they were collecting, but when they got to Rosier, Damaris's family, she discovered that for the last twelve generations, each one had given birth to at least one squib. In every single case, that squib died at age eleven. The deaths, just like the births, were recorded by magic. There could be no fooling these books.

The causes of death varied, of course. Drowning, Falling from a height, Accidental magic discharge. The fact that they all happened the day after each child's eleventh birthday told a different story. Her family had murdered at least one child every generation.

"Rosier, Harlan. Died August third, nineteen eighty-six." Yaxley said in a hushed tone. Clearly she wasn't as dumb as most other Huffles, she realized what that meant.

Damaris shook herself. She had been silent for some time. "I was born May twelfth, nineteen eighty-seven. My parents murdered my brother for being a squib. I had a brother."

"Are you okay?" Brown asked.

Was she? It would take time to think it through and discover how she felt about it, but that could be done later. In private. She compartmentalized her feelings and proceeded. They were on a school trip, and didn't have time to deal with it at the moment.

"No. I will need to think it through later. We don't have time to deal with it right now in any case. There are eight more families to get through, including yours."

Yaxley nodded. "Alright, but if you need someone to talk to later, we're in the same boat."

Damaris didn't smile at the friendly overture, but she recognized she meant well... and she might just take her up on the offer later. It would be nice to talk to someone who understood. She nodded, and they got back to work.

Seven 'Pureblood' families later, Trianda sat on tenterhooks waiting for Damaris to read out names. Did she have any siblings? If she had, did she still? Had her parents murdered them? She didn't think her mother had it in her, but father had been around back then.

"Yaxley, Hayley. Born June eigth, nineteen seventy-five." She read. It was the only entry before Trianda's own birth date of June twenty-seventh nineteen eighty-six.

Damaris watched as Trianda's eyes scanned the page furiously, seeking. She let out a bark, half laugh and half sob. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at Violet.

"I have a sister." She said.

Violet started crying too. "That means you're going to disappear. You have to go find her. You know you do."

Trianda hugged Violet. "You're already my sis, Vi. But yeah, now I probably am. I owe it to her, especially if she was raised in some shitty orphanage not knowing anything. Nobody we know would help me either, except you."

"And me." Damaris found herself surprised at the words that seemed to leap spontaneously from her lips. She paused for a moment to analyze the origin of the words, and found herself staring into a bubbling pool of slowly rising rage inside her.

"Thanks, Damaris." Yaxley smiled at her.

"I find myself increasingly angry. I need to go think about it, but right now I would like nothing better than to curse my family and every other child-murdering family into oblivion."

"Then we're in the same boat." Violet said.

"We should get back to the group. We probably already have detention." She said as she stood. She moved the 'Births' book back to its pedestal, then the 'Deaths' book after Trianda handed it to her.

They left the Hall of Records as a trio, and for some reason Damaris thought that none of them would ever be the same again. She needed solitude to process the information and her resulting emotions. Her anger was understandable, but the strange, hollow feeling of loss for something she never had confused her.

"No." Susan said for the eigth time. "Daphne Greengrass broke no laws. Aurors have better things to do than bring people to the Ministry just so the Minister can apologize for bringing them here."

"She killed my father!" Jacob yelled.

"Your brother killed your father. You were there. You watched the whole thing."

"She MADE him do it!"

Susan just looked at the now-Lord Nott under flat brows.

"Fine. I'll deal with her myself." He growled.

"By all means, if you wish your line to become immediately extinct, go after her. Very few things would make me smile more. You could hire all the mercenaries in Europe and the outcome would be the same. The more people you throw at her, the more bodies I'll have to clean up, and the outcome will never change. You are nowhere near capable of achieving what you desire. Go home and learn to live with it. If you press the issue, it'll be your body and anyone with you that I end up cleaning."

Jacob Nott glowered at her, but said nothing else. After a dramatic pause, he turned on his heel and left her office.

"Thank Merlin for that. Fucking wanker." She muttered. "I'll never know how you managed all the idiots, Auntie."

Kingsley walked in a few minutes later and sat in the chair opposite her with a sigh. Without waiting, she took a bottle of blue label from her bottom drawer and conjured two glasses.

"Cheers." He nodded at her over the glass before he took a sip.

"Cheers." She knocked back a mouthful and waited for the burning to fade before she took a breath. "How you holding up?"

"That was... I've never..." Kingsley wiped his face with his hand.

"Next year come to the pool party. Then you'll really load your trousers."

Kingsley frowned. "What?"

"Harry's pool party. I know he invited you."

"Yeah, what's that got to do with..."

"He and Daphne invented a game where you try to coat your opponent in a dessert of your choosing. Turn them into a giant dessert, really. I'm already trying to turn it into something I can implement here in training. Hermione, Daphne, and Harry put on a display of magical power and skill that still makes me change my knickers. Everyone else was pretty good too. Next year they'll have had a year to practice."

"No wonder Daphne makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and salute. She and Potter are together?"

"Engaged."

"That would be why he never took his eyes off Jacob Nott. Merlin help anyone standing against those two. I thought it was a good thing he and Granger weren't breeding when you mentioned it. Now..."

"Yeah. With any luck I'll be able to coax their offspring into this office and keep them."

"Good luck. Something tells me it won't really matter where they are or what office they occupy."

"Mm. Probably."

"I can't get over... I didn't even see when she did it! Illusion and Disillusion simultaneously! Seamlessy! How can you fight someone you can see but might not be real while the real one is somewhere else?" Kingsley shuddered. "I'm so happy I'm just a stupid politician now. I don't envy you, Sue."

Susan grimaced. "Yeah, thanks for that." She poured both of them another drink.

"Never again." Ginny growled as she struggled to keep a liquid Hermione on her own feet. Daphne finished unlocking the door and pulled her wand.

"Mobilicorpus." She whispered, and Hermione levitated into a reclined position with a quiet "Wheeee!"

"Do you want some water or something? Are you alright to Apparate back home?" She asked GInny.

"I'd love some tea. That last bourbon made my teeth grow fur."

"At least that's all it did to you. I'll go tuck Missus Nastydrunk into bed in her and Ron's room upstairs and be back in a minute. Make yourself at home." Daphne waved her wand at the kitchen and the kettle began to heat up. She floated Hermione in front of her up the stairs and into the room she and Ron shared whenever they stayed over. She put Hermione down on the bed and began to look through the drawers for some kind of pyjamas for her best friend, but the best she could do was an old pair of sweatpants and a Gryffindor T-shirt. Once Hermione was under the blankets and snoring lightly, she left a bucket beside the bed just in case.

The kettle steamed as she pulled two cups from the cupboard, so she carried the tea into the livingroom where Ginny was flipping channels.

"Thanks for that." She said when Daphne handed her the tea.

Daphne sat beside her on the couch for a moment while she sipped her own.

"I can't... I mean, you would think..." Ginny started, "I thought she'd be such a cute, happy drunk. I thought she'd be..."

"Yeah. I certainly didn't expect that." Daphne agreed.

"At least you got her wand away from her before she started using it, not that it made much difference."

"Well, made a difference to the Statue of Secrecy. Do you know what set her off?"

"Not exactly. Something about being touched. I couldn't tell if she was upset because one of them touched her or because she wanted one to and he didn't. She wasn't making any sense at all. I thought it best to just get her out of the crowd and let her calm down." Ginny sipped her tea, lost in the memory. "That was before we even got to the strip club with all that beef everywhere."

"Wait, you mean she started getting that bad before we even left the first bar?" Daphne's eyebrows rose.

"It came in waves. She seemed to calm down and go back to being normal after the first time, so I thought it was just someone cheesed her off and dismissed it. You were there when she got weepy that first time."

"Same as you, I thought it was just someone being mean, told her to ignore the bastard." Daphne sipped her tea and went over the scene in her mind again. Hermione had just finished her fourth mojito, and Daphne could tell she was already very tipsy. Hermione's smile had simply fallen from her face as she had gravitated toward Daphne and wrapped her arms around her. She thought Hermione had just been hugging her until she felt the woman sob. Daphne just held her close while she cried for a few minutes, then helped her dry her eyes. She'd tried to get her to talk about it, but Hermione had simply shaken her head and gone back to dancing with Susan, Hannah, Angelina and Astoria. At the time she hadn't thought anything of it, but in hindsight Daphne could feel there was something Hermione was holding inside that caused it. She would have to see if she could get Hermione to talk about it later.

"I wouldn't be surprised if we earned a lifetime ban from every beef club in London after that." Ginny sighed dejectedly.

"I would be fine with that honestly, I had never been to one before, but it wasn't what I thought it'd be. I'm just sorry for those poor men having to deal with the awful things she said to them."

"I never heard her swear like that before. It was like she opened her mouth a a tide of horrid obscenity came out. What the magic does 'nugatory' mean, anway? Or cacatory?"

"Nugatory means inadequate. Insignificant. Cacatory... I'm not sure. I'll have to look it up." Daphne sighed.

"Oh." Ginny held her tea in her lap, both hands wrapped around the cup with a blank expression on her face. "Yeah that makes it worse. Let me know when you do. I'm kind of afraid to find out, but I can't not know."

Daphne wrinkled her nose. "Same."

"Kinda makes you think, you know?"

"About where she finds obscure words to swear at people with?"

"No, it's Hermione. Of course she knows obscure words. No, I meant... I thought I knew her, you know? I would have sworn up and down she could never be an angry, weepy, violent drunk. I thought she'd be sweet and cute. It's made me think I don't really know her at all." Ginny stared into her tea.

"I'm there with you. She's my best female friend, we tell each other everything, even the uncomfortable stuff, but tonight... I think she's keeping some things deep inside and not sharing them with anyone. I wouldn't be surprised if it had something to do with the war."

"Shit, I keep forgetting about that. I keep forgetting she'd suffered... been tortured, for fuck's sake..." Ginny sipped her tea and Daphne noted her hands trembled.

"We've talked about that. We've been all through what LeStrange did to her, and she's used it to make herself stronger. She's tough, you know. Far tougher than anyone gives her credit for. I wouldn't want her as an enemy."

"No, me either..." Ginny recalled how she had in fact viewed Hermione as an enemy a few short years ago, over the man neither of them got to have. It was a sobering thing to think about what Hermione might have done to her if she'd actually been interested in Harry. Thankfully, and regretfully as far as Harry was concerned, that was in the past.

"Thanks for helping me get her here." Dapnhe said after a long moment. "She would have been a bugger to try and manage on my own."

Ginny grinned and sipped her tea. "What are friends for?"

"Actually, how are you? We have literally dozens of rooms if you'd rather crash here for the night. I know Hermione isn't going anywhere."

Ginny smiled back at her. "Thanks, but no thanks. I've been drunk enough to know I need to be in my own bed to be able to sleep. It makes no sense, but that's how it is. The tea is helping though."

"Want another?"

"This is good thanks, I'll be off after."

"Well use the floo, don't risk splinching yourself."

"That was the plan." Ginny smiled briefly. "Do you think she'll remember any of that?" She toyed with the rim of her teacup. "I mean... would it be better to just let it go and never bring it up or do you think she'd rather talk about it?"

Daphne sighed. "Honestly I would rather she need to talk about it. I'm insanely curious to find out what made her do... any of that. All of it. I love her like a sister, I want to reach inside her and pull that festering thorn out... But no, even if she does remember it I don't think she'll ever say anything about it ever. Probably best if we just don't mention it."

"Damn." Ginny said under her breath. "That's what I thought too, but... shit."

"Yeah. I'll talk to Susan, Hannah, Angelina and Astoria tomorrow about not saying anything."

"Hope it hasn't put them off going to clubs as well. Sue looked like she was about to arrest her more than once." It would suck if Ginny had no-one to go to clubs with when she was home for visits.

Daphne smiled back at her. "That might have been amusing, but I'm almost certain Hermione would not have taken it well and we'd be having tea in Sue's office about now."

"Yeah, while Hermione slept it off in a holding cell."

"Can you imagine the look on her face when she wakes up in one?" Daphne started to laugh, then remembered Hermione had been held against her will during the war and thought better of it. "Sorry, I forgot she'd been captured during the war again. Probably wouldn't be funny at all really."

Ginny put her hand on Daphne's shoulder. "I know exactly what you mean. She's just always... Hermione. That's why I thought tonight would be fun in the first place."

Daphne nodded. "We both did."

Ginny put her empty teacup on the coffee table and stood up. To her credit, she only wobbled slightly before gaining her balance. "Wooohh. Definitely time to go. So spinny." She took several deep breaths.

Daphne stood and followed her to the floo, then gave her a hug. "Stay safe, give us a call when you're up and about and feeling human again."

Ginny hugged her back. "Will do. Sorry our idea kind of flopped."

"Same here. Still, if you don't take a chance, you never really know." Daphne smiled at her.

Ginny grinned back. "Maybe next time. The Burrow." She said, and vanished in a blast of green flame.

Daphne sighed. She hoped the other witches didn't feel too bad about it. First she stumbled over a trauma trigger and turned Harry into a frightened child, then tonight she took away Hermione's iron will and exposed whatever raw nerve was underneath to the world. What a bloody disaster.

"Apparently you still need lessons in compassion and forethought, dumbarse." She muttered. She took the teacups into the kitchen and cleaned them and put them away, then headed upstairs with a sigh.

She changed and brushed her teeth - normally she didn't wear anything to bed, but without her heat source in bed next to her, she thought it would be a good idea to wear some pyjamas. She was about to get into bed when her thoughts turned back to Hermione, and instead she headed to her room to check on her.

She opened the door as quietly as she could, but she needn't have worried. Hermione lay on her left side at the side of the bed near the bucket, but the bucket remained empty. Daphne sat on the very edge of the bed and brushed the hair that had fallen over her face behind her ear.

"MMmmm." Hermione stirred and grabbed her wrist to force her palm against her cheek. "S'nice... like face cool nice face mmmm." She rubbed her face in Daphne's palm. She had to smile, and put her other hand on Hermione's forehead. She nuzzled into that one as well.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I didn't think what it might mean to you, I was only thinking about you having fun." Daphne said softly.

Hermione let go of one of her hands and tried to throw the covers off herself, then slowly and laboriously kicked them off. "Daphphphe. Bessess fren." Hermione reached up and pulled her down into the bed behind her, then snuggled backward into her. "Mmmhhmm." She sighed contentedly. "Luv Daphph. He Loves Daph."

Daphne reached down and covered both of them with the blankets. She hadn't planned to spend the night spooning Hermione, but really it was the least she could do after practically forcing her current state on her. Hermione found her other arm and draped it over her side, then forced Daphne's forearm between her breasts and laid Daphne's palm on her face again. Daphne made herself as comfortable as possible and hugged her best friend. "Love you too, Hermione. I'm sorry."

Hermione jerked slightly, and Daphne could feel Hermione's mouth open. She drew a deep breath and Daphne could feel tension in the body next to her. Daphne raised her head to look and saw Hermione's face twisted in sorrow. A long moment passed before Hermione drew a shuddering breath and wailed softly. She clutched Daphne's arm to her chest and sobbed as though her world had ended.