Chapter 31: A Who's Who of Powerful Arseholes

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[A/N: Thank you to Calamity Owl for beta-reading this chapter!]


"Bollocks!" Harry said.

"Language," Hermione said absently as she put the car into reverse. "Now buckle up, boys."

Remus and Harry promptly buckled their seatbelts, but Sirius's eyes lit up. "Because we're about to go on an exciting car chase?" he asked.

"No." Hermione pulled up to the edge of the parking lot at a reasonable speed and came to a complete stop before turning despite the fact that no cars were visible in either direction on the road. "Driving like crazy would only attract attention, so we're going to drive like ordinary muggles. I just wanted you to buckle up because seatbelts massively reduce the risk of death or serious injury in car accidents."

Sirius harrumphed, but he did buckle himself in.

Hermione took them down the road at precisely the speed limit, driving carefully and shifting conservatively. "So," she said, "Harry?"

"Um...yes?" He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"There was a plan, Harry. The plan did not involve you summoning the Aurors." Her eyes remained fixed on the road ahead of them the whole time, which somehow made her tone of voice scarier.

"It was the only way to get the files and the artefacts out of her hidden room," Harry said.

"It wasn't worth it," Hermione said tightly. "I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

"It's not just for you," Harry replied. "It was for every muggleborn magical of the last two decades and those yet to come."

Only the sound of the road, the put-upon little engine, and the wind in the trees outside filled the silence of the car for a full minute. Eventually, Harry hazarded a glance at his girlfriend. A single tear had traced a track down her cheek and the remnant moisture glistened in the moonlight.

"Must you be a hero, Harry?" she asked.

Remus leaned forward. "I'm afraid so," he said. "My generation bolloxed up the world pretty badly and now people like him are stuck fixing it. I'm sorry. You both deserved better."

"The time is out of joint," Hermione said, tears in her voice. "O cursèd spite, that ever were we born to set it right."

"Well put," Remus said.

Sirius furrowed his brows. "Was that Shakespeare?"

"Indeed it was," Remus said. "See? You're not as uncultured as you pretend to be."

The other man pushed Remus out of the way and leaned up to stage whisper to Hermione, "I really am. I just guess 'Shakespeare' whenever someone says something that sounds like Old English and I'm usually right."

She laughed despite the tears in it. "I suppose you probably are," she said.

Harry's transformation wore off a few minutes later, and Hermione resolutely kept her eyes on the road while he struggled out of Umbridge's clothes.

"Harry?" she asked after a moment, her eyes resolutely forward.

"Yes?" he asked as he pulled on some boxers.

"Is it just me, or is that car coming toward us weaving a bit?"

Life was full of times to evaluate and think carefully, but Harry had long ago come to terms with the fact his life had fewer of those times than most people's. So instead of following Hermione's request, he started frantically rooting through Umbridge's clothes for his wand.

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