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Chapter 41: Segretated

Spring came by and almost passed completely without a hello. The Order was slowly but surely infiltrating the ministry so that they would be able to pick up clues about Voldemort.

Lily’s figure had blossomed rather magnificently; and she was eagerly accepting any donations of baby clothes or toys. She had wanted to go on a big shopping trip to be able to buy all the necessities. Indeed it would have been lovely to be able to do that, if only it wasn’t so dangerous to be seen out on the street.

At Hermione’s insistence James and Lily had placed their house under the protection of the Fidelius charm, just as Hermione had protected her own home. Sirius and Remus were renting a muggle dwelling in the local countryside, and had done the very same to their home. James and Sirius served as each other’s secret keepers; although Remus, Lily and Hermione knew of the secret, and were frequent visitors.

In spite of the camaraderie and small celebrations between them, there was an overarching sense of fear that pervaded the entire magical community. No one went out for fun anymore. The streets were grey and empty.

Shop-owners were finding the times harder than most, as they were essentially being deprived of their livelihood. Hermione no longer ventured down Diagon Alley; either in disguise or otherwise. Those who supported Voldemort were outnumbering those who didn’t. No one could be trusted and it would only take one mistake on her part to be named as shamed. She was not pureblood. Indeed there was nothing that she could use to prove that she was even a half-blood.

Even the meetings of the Order were few and far apart; however every so often Hermione spend the afternoon visiting Aberforth in his pub. He was able to give her news of the outside world.

It was on one such afternoon that Hermione received a satisfactory piece of news. She had walked into the pub to find it empty. Hearing some scuffling coming from the back room, she called out a swift hello to Aberforth before settling herself down on one of the bar stools. He must have been expecting her because there was a pile of newspapers sitting on the edge of the bar. Hermione pulled one closer to her, and flipped through the pages, reading snatches of text, here and there.

The Prophet had been printing lies for well over a year and a half, but Hermione was glad that they got one detail right. Peter Pettigrew was named a Death Eater.

An old photo from school was placed among several law enforcement photographs on the bottom of page six. It was almost insignificant to the others in the Wizarding community, and Hermione had already known of the truth; but there was something satisfying in seeing fact printed there.

He had chosen his path, as they had chosen theirs. He was a grown man, and there was nothing she could do to influence him.

There had been some talk of Elphias Doge working in the newspaper before it was too far gone into the hands of Voldemort. Clearly he had made his mark, however small it may be.

Hermione looked up from the paper when she heard the noises around her getting louder. Aberforth appeared at the door.

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