The After Life

A Life, After All

Hermione glowered at Pius Thicknesse. She had no trust in a man who had been so easily subjugated by Dark Wizards. Harry had thrown off the Imperius Curse when he was an underage wizard. Hermione would have expected a high-ranking Ministry official - as Thicknesse had been at the outbreak of the War - to have been able to offer just as much resistance, or to have been spelled to protect his mind from attack.

The fact that he wasn't simply stirred infuriation in her mind.

Of course, Harry was a badass when it came to fighting the Dark Arts. It just came naturally to him, an innate skill he didn't have to work at. Like kissing and sex. Hermione was still tingling from the night of passion they'd enjoyed after the Duel. The idea of rest had vanished along with her underwear. That was a sly trick of Harry's, but a fun one. Inventive, too, but merely an indicator of Harry's natural prowess in the bedroom which, frankly, bordered on the obscene.

Hermione tried not to focus on that. It brought a bright flush to her cheeks and she was sure Harry knew what she was thinking. He grinned at her knowingly but said nothing. Her distraction wasn't helping him, either. She had to bring her mind under control. She wasn't used to it running away with itself so much. But this was just a new world and, in truth, she wasn't at all against the change.

But for now she needed to be the old Hermione. For Harry's sake if nothing else. His passions were more than capable of getting the better of him and, if the Weasleys' clock did something unexpected, there was no telling what might he might do. She needed to be on guard to protect him, maybe even from himself.

For ever since he'd taken possession of his new wand, Hermione felt slightly in awe of what had happened to Harry's power. It had begun to manifest itself in highly unusual and unexpected ways. She wondered if the bespoke wand had somehow opened him up to more naturalistic forms of magic. He felt different, as if his core energy had changed frequency. It wasn't a bad thing, but it was wracked with intensity. Hermione speculated that this new sensation might merely be a result of his now being fully open to their phoenix bond. She just sensed him more acutely, now that he had joined her in sharing this incredibly intimate thing.

The very idea thrilled her.

Hermione had always considered herself to be a fairly solitary creature. She had borders and boundaries that she guarded fiercely. Even at the start of her relationship with Harry, she had been cautious of letting these guards down. It wasn't as if she was worried Harry would hurt her; she was so full of trust for him, and so assured of his affection for her, that she felt overwhelmed by both. And humbled by the potency of them. But there were some deep parts of her she just felt she'd never let Harry reach.

Now, though, Hermione felt Harry had penetrated and infused every single piece of her. And the love she felt for him because of it left her breathless and light-headed.

So she was determined to protect him now with every ounce of strength she possessed. That thought pressed on her, as she looked down at the Weasley's clock, where it lay on Thicknesse's desk. His 'punishment' for possession by the Death Eaters was to be moved into the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts department, where he was employed as a magic reverser. Minister Shacklebolt had instructed him to help Harry and Hermione unlock the secrets of the clock, under the veil of the most stringent secrecy.

"This item is infused with some very dark magic," said Thicknesse quietly, as he assessed it with his wand. "Very dark, I say again."

Hermione looked over at Harry, whose expression was a quite clear I told you so. She nodded with a grimace as Thicknesse went on.

"Do you have any clue as to how this works?"

"None," said Harry. "Aside from tracking members of the Weasley family and their current well-being status, we know next to nothing about it."