Chapter Forty:
( hit wizards of the new ministry )

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

             SPENCER CANNOT BELIEVE THAT Severus Snape, her former Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, killer of Albus Dumbledore, has been made Headmaster of Hogwarts. Truthfully, Hogwarts has gotten absolutely bonkers. Though, it feels weird that she will not be in the Hogwarts Express in a few weeks from now being excited from escaping her parent's manor and being somewhere that made her feel like home. The first-year students attending will never experience a place like that. Seventh-years who return back will be forced to endure the hardships. Will some rebel? Protect others? Merlin, Spencer realizes, Morgana will be there with Blaise.

             She trusts Blaise far more than her better judgement. Spencer knows he would never intentionally hurt her in a way that involves her sister. And perhaps she is naive for putting her trust more on him, but what else can she do? She is here and he is over there. Or at least he will be. It is no secret that Morgana would not not try anything. Especially if Blaise has to keep this all undercover and pretend he does not care about her. Pretend... that is all it is, right? Pretend he does not like her anymore, pretend he doesn't know where Theodore is... Spencer hates it.

             Currently, she sits beside Ricky as Hermione locked away Phineas Black's portrait onto her purse so he would not be able to spy on them for Snape. Her thoughts drift away from their conversation while she thinks about some things in order to help their plan in heading to the Ministry to find the Horcrux Regulus had stored away. Her eyes widen while she recalls something and she calls for their attention. The other four quiet down as they wait for her to announce what she remembered.

             "Father used to tell my mother about those navy-colored robes. Apparently, those who wear that color are part of the Magical Maintenance," Spencer informs them, her eyes heading straight to Ron to confirm her thoughts. Of course, she does not know if the rules has changed since then, but when Ron widens his own in realization, she knows she is right.

             Hermione gasps and flips through the pages of the notes on the Ministry. "There's nothing in here about navy blue robes!" She continues searching for any type of clue about it, but Spencer knows she will not find it. It is not like anyone should care about what type of clothing they wear... well, they should, but not anyone else.

             "Well, does it really matter?" Ron questions confusedly. Hermione slaps his arm harshly and snaps, "Ron, it all matters! If we're going to get into the Ministry and not give ourselves away when they're bound to be on the lookout for intruders, every little detail matters! We've been over and over this, I mean, what's the point of all these reconnaissance trips if you aren't even bothering to tell us —"

             "Blimey, Hermione, I forget one little thing—"

             "You do realize, don't you, that there's probably no more dangerous place in the whole world for us to be right now than the Ministry of—" Hermione begins to rant to the redhead. Spencer leans back feeling the tension between them and then her attention heads toward Harry who has the courage to interrupt.

             Harry clears his throat and announces, "I think we should do it tomorrow."

             Tomorrow? Spencer raises her eyebrow in surprise. She has nothing to say against his suggestion. Tomorrow will be her birthday and thus, she will no longer have the Trace on her making her free of being tracked down. Wait... her birthday is tomorrow. She scoffs internally at the realization. Spencer usually does not like her birthday since she used to see it as a normal day. Last year it had been her first one where she felt loved, but it was just a one time thing by the looks of it. This time it feels like she should not even mention it at all. Ricky, however, seems to realize it and stares at her in concern. She shakes her head at him and smiles assuredly. He frowns at her actions but before he can say anything, they turn to Hermione.

             Hermione stops dead, her jaw hanging; Ron chokes a little over his soup having barely let Harry's words pass through their head. "Tomorrow?" Hermione repeats. "You aren't serious, Harry?"

             "I am," Harry nods confidently. "I don't think we're going to be much better prepared than we are now even if we skulk around the Ministry entrance for another month. The longer we put it off, the farther away that locket could be. There's already a good chance Umbridge has chucked it away; the thing doesn't open."

             "Unless," Ron interferes, "she's found a way of opening it and she's now possessed."

             Harry snorts and shrugs his shoulders while saying, "Wouldn't make any difference to her, she was so evil in the first place."

             He's not wrong, Spencer thinks to herself, letting her gaze fall toward her hand. Hermione is biting her lip, deep in thought clearly not so sure about what Harry is suggesting.

             "We know everything important," Harry goes on, addressing Hermione. "We know they've stopped Apparition in and out of the Ministry. We know only the most senior Ministry members are allowed to connect their homes to the Floo Network now, because Ron heard those two Unspeakables complaining about it. And we know roughly where Umbridge's office is, because of what you heard that bearded bloke saying to his mate—"

             "'I'll be up on level one, Dolores wants to see me,'" Hermione recited immediately.

             "Exactly," Harry nods. "And we know you get in using those funny coins, or tokens, or whatever they are, because I saw that witch borrowing one from her friend —"

             "I don't know, Harry, I don't know... There are an awful lot of things that could go wrong, so much relies on chance..." Hermione trails on unsurely. Spencer waves their attention over and waits for the two to silence up.

             It does not take long for her to say, "I think Harry is right. No matter what day it is... there will always be trouble. The same percentage of success and failure. The longer we take, the longer this path will be."

             Ricky straightens up and nods in agreement. "I don't want to do this, but it's time to act," he agrees hesitantly. There is a terrified expression on his face that Spencer wishes to get rid of and hide him away from any hard. However, she knows he truly is willing to head to this path because her best friend is anything but a liar.

             She can tell from the other two faces that they are scared as well, but either way, Ron slowly nods in acceptance. "All right," the redhead starts, "let's say we go for it tomorrow... I think it should just be me, Ricky, and Harry."

             Spencer scoffs at his words and glares at him. "That is absolutely stupid," she disagrees, earning a nod from Hermione. "What? You think we can't handle ourselves or something?"

             "Yeah, don't start that again!" sighs Hermione. "I thought we'd settled this."

             "It's one thing hanging around the entrances under the Cloak, but this is different." Ron jabs a finger at a copy of the Daily Prophet dated ten days previously. "You're on the list of Muggle-borns who didn't present themselves for interrogation!"

             "And you're supposed to be dying of spattergroit at the Burrow! If anyone shouldn't go, it's Harry, he's got a ten-thousand-Galleon price on his head—"

             "Fine, I'll stay here," Harry playfully announces. "Let me know if you ever defeat Voldemort, won't you?"

             Spencer cracks a smile with his small joke. She turns to Ricky who tells her to lean closer. Doing as told, Ricky easily wraps his arms around her and whispers, "Aren't you going to remind them what day it is tomorrow?"

             She rolls her eyes. "It isn't of importance, Ricky." She smiles warmly noticing his pained expression at the reminder that she did not grow up loved as he did. Her eyes wander back to Harry and notice his squeamish mood which he tries hiding from all of them. Ricky follows her eyesight and frowns deeper, slowly standing up from his seat to check on him. However, all of it goes to waste as Harry stands up immediately and heads toward the bathroom with Kreacher trying to ask if Harry wants anything else. Ever since he received the locket, the elf of his has been treating them all kinder and even kind of respects Hermione and Ricky (sometimes he still makes a face but he tries very hard which they all appreciate).

             Spencer frowns when she hears a thud and yells coming from nearby. She shares a look with Hermione before the two girls go running toward where Harry went. Ron and Ricky follow close behind them. Hermione gasps upon noticing the messy-haired boy on the floor and she calls, "Harry! HARRY!"

             "What were you doing?" asks Hermione sternly. Spencer figures she already knows and is just playing along.

             "Oh yeah... I must've dozed off or —"

             Ricky scoffs at his words and pulls him up. "Man, don't insult our intelligence... I'm offended as a proud Ravenclaw," her best friends playfully mumbles to Harry while some words being truthful. "But we know your scar was hurting," he adds in right away.

             Harry sits down on the edge of the bath. "Fine. I've just seen Voldemort murdering a woman. By now he's probably killed her whole family. And he didn't need to. It was Cedric all over again, they were just there..." Spencer flinches at the way he trails off, his voice fading into the air as he thinks about what he just saw. Someone actually being done the 'Avada Kedavra' spell.

             "Harry, you aren't supposed to let this happen anymore!" Hermione cries, her voice echoing through the bathroom. "Dumbledore wanted you to use Occlumency! He thought the connection was dangerous — Voldemort can use it, Harry! What good is it to watch him kill and torture, how can it help?"

             "Because it means I know what he's doing," Harry snaps at her.

             "So you're not even going to try to shut him out?"

             "Maybe we shouldn't start with this—" Spencer tries saying before being rudely interrupted by Harry. She sends him a glare as he continues, "Hermione, I can't. You know I'm lousy at Occlumency, I never got the hang of it."

             "You never really tried!" Hermione mutters hotly. "I don't get it, Harry — do you like having this special connection or relationship or what — whatever—"

             "And we went there," Spencer sighs disappointedly, stepping back when she notices Hermione's stare falter under the look Harry gives her as he stands. It surprises how sometimes Harry can actually appear dangerous... fearful. 

             He glares at his best friend with a cold stare. "Like it?" he repeats quietly. "Would you like it?"

             No, Spencer remarks to herself, sharing a small look with Ron and Ricky.

             "I — no — I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean —" Hermione tries apologizing.

             "I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he's most dangerous. But I'm going to use it," Harry announces loudly as if he is telling not only her but also everyone else.

             Hermione frowns. "Dumbledore —"

             "Can he look into your eyes?" Spencer interrupts, her fingers slightly tapping onto her chin. They all silence up while they stare at her wondering why she is even wondering about that. Harry slowly shakes his head as his indication of a 'no'. Spencer nods thoughtfully. "Then maybe it can be used to know what he is up to. Dumbledore obviously did not want him to put dangerous memories into your head, but if you sort out the facts first off... then he can't get to you like he had done with Sirius."

             Hermione seems unsure of her plan while Harry nods in agreement. "Forget Dumbledore. This is my choice, nobody else's. I want to know why he's after Gregorovitch anyway."

             Spencer makes a face. "The wandmaker...?" After having read all those books about wands, she considered herself knowledgeable about the wands and wandmakers around the world.

             Harry stares at her puzzled before nodding again. "Yeah, he's a foreign wandmaker. He made Krum's wand and Krum reckons he's brilliant."

             "But according to you," Ron steps in, "Voldemort's got Ollivander locked up somewhere. If he's already got a wandmaker, what does he need another one for?"

             Maybe the Elder wand, Spencer thinks to herself, furrowing her brows curiously. She has not forgotten about that piece. She is sure that is what Voldemort wanted Ollivander for and now Gregorovitch as well. The most powerful wand...

             "Maybe he agrees with Krum, maybe he thinks Gregorovitch is better... or else he thinks Gregorovitch will be able to explain what my wand did when he was chasing me, because Ollivander didn't know," Harry thinks aloud, glancing around the room in confusion. Ron and Hermione share skeptical looks while Ricky raises his eyebrow in surprise.

             "How did it happen anyway?" Ricky questions, crossing his arms together with an open mind. He was born in the muggle world and suddenly magic became real to him, what Harry described could be some powerful magic they don't know about— or at least he doesn't.

             Hermione gives him a plain look. "Nothing happened. He is the one who made his wand do magic," she assures Ricky and then turns to Harry, "Why are you so determined not to take responsibility for your own power?"

             "Well, actually based on some books I read about wands— don't ask why— this usually occurs when the wands seems related to each other which is exceptionally rare but sometimes it is made by the same core and this makes it act against the other equally," Spencer explains, recalling back to one of the books that mentioned how if a wand is made with the same rare core it creates a bond like no other. Hermione, Ron, and Ricky stare at her blankly. She rolls her eyes and explains it easier, "Let's say Harry's wand and V— sorry, You-Know-Who's wand are brothers. Made by the same core like—"

             "A Phoenix's feather..." Harry softly shakes his head as if he remembers something. Spencer nods before she widens her eyes in surprise. A Phoenix feather? No way, she thinks to herself in amazement before letting him continue. "Ollivander told me in my first year that my wand and his were similars. And then Dumbledore claimed that are wands connected during his revival and it caused 'Priori Incantatum'. This time it was not his wand, however."

             "Priori— never mind, well, perhaps it is deeper than we think, but I'll still say it has to do something with you and him somehow being connected. It is great power, but our mind is always open to new possibilities, theorems, discoveries," Spencer shrugs, pointing to Ricky in acknowledgement. It is something the two are extremely similar apart and truly take from their own house trait. They can classify as smart, yes, but being open-minded is something they both take pride on.

             Ron clears his throat awkwardly. "If we're going to the Ministry tomorrow, don't you reckon we should go over the plan?"

             Reluctantly, Hermione lets the matter rest instead of trying to change Spencer's mind. In the meantime, they return to the basement kitchen, where Kreacher serves them all stew and treacle tart. They do not get to bed until late that night, after spending hours going over and over their plan until they can recite it, word perfect, to each other (of course, Spencer to none of their surprise memorizes it first glance).

             The first week of them staying at Grimmauld's Place, Spencer and the rest slept on the floor or couch. However, after getting used to it and assuring themselves they had each other, they went their separate ways. Kind of. Hermione got her own space on a guest bedroom as did Ron. Harry volunteered himself to stay over on Sirius's room while Spencer asked Ricky if he can stay with her on Regulus's. Fortunately, her best friend agreed. She somehow got used to sleeping with Ginny and whenever she sleeps by herself it causes her more nightmares than anything. At least with Ricky, she can feel his warmth.

             She glances up at the wall and notices the stars magically input with magic up on Regulus's ceiling. Spencer had not seen it the first time she came upon his room, but on the first night she slept there. It somehow gives her comfort. Bringing back the memories of when she would be with Blaise and the two would just talk. About life... about problems... about what they want to do in life when they're older and stupid ideas that are completely insane and yet understanding to them. The young Montague slowly falls asleep with her thoughts on him and her right hand touching the magical stone. She feels a slow relaxation hit her system with a familiar warmth and that is all she needs until she completely dozes off.

             The next morning, she is awaken with a surprise. Ricky, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Kreacher (yes, the elf) are standing among her bedside with kind looks. Upon noticing her awake, they jump up and yell, "Happy Birthday!" Spencer grimaces at their loud voices before returning the smile. Although, she woke up because of their continuous eyeing while she stirred herself awake, it warms her completely that they put her first.

             "Thank you," she acknowledges, before standing up and remembering what else is to come for them. The others do as well, but not before giving her a hug on their own and then letting Hermione and her dress up to get ready. It does not surprise any of them when they find only Ricky downstairs with Kreacher. Either way, Hermione suddenly turns her face into one of a manic expression and continuously pokes around with her beaded bag.

Spencer eyes her worriedly for a few seconds before she begins to reassure that she has the materials on her bag as well. It does not take long for her to check and she knows she absolutely does have all she needs. Then, as a reminder that she can now use magic, she takes out her wand and points it to her bag. It miniatures immediately and she places it inside her necklace (it was slightly a struggle putting it on by herself but she did it). A gentle smiles reaches her lips— she never realized how much magic truly means to her until she is forced on the run and without it for weeks to not endanger her friend's life.

Soon enough, Harry and Ron finally made their ways downstairs and listens to Hermione check over herself for the fifteenth time this morning since the two of them have been down. Spencer quietly talks with Ricky before finishing her best friend. Then, she glances at Kreacher and then to Harry.

"Harry, you should tell Kreacher that just in case... if we do not come back to Apparate back to the Hogwarts kitchen unnoticed," Spencer recommends, her eyes glancing at the elf with worry. Harry appears taken back by the request before nodding in agreement. He turns to the elf who previously had promised to have a steak-and-kidney-pie ready for them (which truthfully makes all their stomach grumble).

Harry bends down to be eye-to-eye and smiles genuinely. "Kreacher, if something goes wrong or if we do not return within a day and a half, head back to the kitchens at Hogwarts. Understand?"

"Yes, Master," Kreacher nods affirmatively. Spencer lets out a sigh of relief and gives Harry a thankful smile. Sure, he may have been prejudice not too long ago and is still trying his best to improve himself, but she rather likes this new elf she has met. The first time she had met him, he stared at her disgustingly. Now, he seems to like her.

"Bless him," Ron sighs fondly, "and when you think I used to fantasize about cutting off his head and sticking it on the wall."

Ricky scrunches up his nose. "That's a bit specific."

They make their way onto the front step with immense caution: all five of them can see a couple of puffy-eyed Death Eaters watching the house from across the misty square. Hermione Disapparated with Ron first, then comes back for Harry (seeing as Spencer never once went out because she could not use magic). Then, she returns for Ricky, and then Spencer herself. Thankfully, none of the Death Eaters notice them leave.

After the usual brief spell of darkness and near suffocation, Spencer finds herself in the tiny alleyway where the first phase of their plan is scheduled to take place. It is as yet deserted, except for a couple of large bins; the first Ministry workers fo not usually appear here until at least eight o'clock— or at least from what she read from Hermione's notes.

"Right then," Hermione starts, checking her watch. "She ought to be here in about five minutes. When I've Stunned her—"

"Hermione, we know," Ron cuts off sternly. "And I thought we were supposed to open the door before she got here?"

Spencer smiles at his memorization and flinches when Hermione squeals in surprise. "I nearly forgot! Stand back—" The older girl points her wand at the padlocked and heavily graffitied fire door beside them, which bursts open with a crash. The dark corridor behind it leads into an empty theater. Hermione pulls the door back toward her, to make it look as though it is still closed. "And now," she continues, turning back to face the other four in the alleyway, "we put on the Cloak again—"

"—and we wait," Ron finishes, throwing it over Hermione's head like a blanket over a birdcage and rolling his eyes at Harry. Little more than a minute later, there is a tiny pop and a little Ministry witch with flyaway gray hair apparates feet from them, blinking a little in the sudden brightness; the sun had just come out from behind a cloud. She barely has time to enjoy the unexpected warmth, however, before Hermione's silent Stunning Spell hit her in the chest and she topples over.

Spencer raises her eyebrows amused. "Nice," she compliments before helping them carry the little witch. Hermione plucks a few hairs from the witch's head and adds them to a flask of muddy Polyjuice Potion. While Ron explains that the women is Mafalda Hopkirk, Spencer lets the other three do their work while she stays close with Ricky knowing they were about to get two people at the same time. With their wands raise, Spencer and Ricky both hit a figure that barely have the chance to part hands before they are stunned unconscious.

"Bloody hell, you two are dangerous together," Ron comments from behind them, helping the two carry the bodies back to where Mafalda is. Not to be confused with the conscious one that Hermione is pretending to be. Spencer repeats the process for herself and Ricky, plucking out some hair strands and giving the male figure to Ricky while hers the female. She adds them to two separate flasks before chugging it and Ricky follows along. Slowly, the two begin changing appearances and while Spencer is familiar with its work, Ricky is not. He groans at how disgusting the formation is before he no longer looks the same and instead is a tall male with dark hair and dark blue eyes. Young, but not considerably too young. Spencer changes in appearance as well. Her height shrinks a few inches and her hair turns into a similar shade to the male's. She, just as Ricky, has a woman not too old, but not too young.

She grabs the materials the two unconscious workers have and hands them to Ricky first off. "Axel Castlenor, Magical Law Enforcement Patrol," Spencer reads off from the identification card that she passes to Ricky. She takes out some golden coins all as well as anything else necessary before moving onto the female. "Adrina Castlenor, Magical Law Enforcement Patrol."

"Do we know what they do?" Ricky questions as he pats himself dry of dust. Spencer narrows her eyes while she fixes herself as well.

"Yes... they're purebloods. The Castlenor twins, I think. And I figure they might have been hit men and somehow made it be Head... or assistants by the clothes they are wearing," Spencer explains, her eyes slightly widening as she notice her breast grew slightly bigger (okay, a whole more but whatever!). They have to go through the same process with Ron who became Reg Cattermole and then wait a whole lot longer for Harry to get his mysterious man.

They step out of the alleyway together. Fifty yards along the crowded pavement there are spikes black railings flanking two flights of steps, one labeled gentlemen, the other ladies. Hermione and Spencer share a look before they walk toward the ladies room. Not many were there, but whoever are seem to stiffen as they notice Spencer... or at least, whoever Spencer is impersonating. She knows it best than to smile and instead glares at them realizing that they were scared of her, not friendly at all. Her thoughts are confirmed when the woman nervously clears her throat and heads one to the stall. Hermione awkwardly bites her lip before shrugging and doing it as well.

Spencer steps inside the bathroom and closes her eyes knowing what comes next. She gets on top of the toilet and is glad that magic exists as her feet do not get wet. She pulls on the chain and she hears two flushes. One for her and the other for Hermione. Within seconds, she feels herself zoom some place else and then finds herself emerging out of a fireplace into the Ministry of Magic. She closes her eyes at the sudden movement before walking out of there and toward her supposed brother.

The place they have arrived to is completely frightening. A gigantic statue of black stone dominates the scene. It has a sculpture of a watch and wizard sitting on carved thrones while staring down at the workers. The words Magic is Might do not sit right with her, but she bites back a grimace and looks around curiously. She finds Hermione rather quick and motions to her way. Just along, the stand on front of the statue with the other two males beside them.

"You got in all right?" Hermione whispers toward all of them. Ron, still as Cattermole, snorts at her question. "No, he's still stuck in the bog," he jokes quietly.

"Oh, very funny..." Hermione rolls her eyes while Spencer hides her smile. Then, it slowly starts disappearing as she takes a closer look at the statue. She has just realized what exactly is is meant to represent both figuratively and literally. "It's horrible, isn't it?"

Spencer for a moment thought they were sitting on carver thrones, but in reality... they are hundreds and hundreds of naked bodies, men, women, children, all with twisted faces pressed together to support the weight of the two wizards. She feels Ricky stiffen at the symbolization and truth of it, his face slightly becoming a pale color. Spencer cannot blame him for she too feels the need to throw up.

"Muggles," Hermione whispers breathlessly. "In their rightful place. Come on, let's get going."

They join the stream of witches and wizards moving toward the golden gates at the end of the hall, looking around as surreptitiously as possible, but there is no sign of the distinctive figure of Dolores Umbridge. They pass through the gates and into a smaller hall, where queues are forming in front of twenty golden grilles housing as many lifts. They have barely join the nearest one when a voice calls, "Cattermole!"

They look around and Spencer spots a familiar man. One of the Death Eaters who had been at Hogwarts the night of Dumbledore's death is striding toward them. The Ministry workers beside them fall silent, their eyes downcast. The man's scowling, slightly brutish face is somehow at odds with his magnificent, sweeping robes, which are embroidered with much gold thread. Someone in the crowd around the lifts calls sycophantically, "Morning, Yaxley!" Yaxley ignores them.

"I requested somebody from Magical Maintenance to sort out my office, Cattermole. It's still raining in there." Ron looks around as though hoping somebody else would intervene, but nobody spoke. Spencer knows better than to. She sees Ricky's mouth slightly head to open his mouth and she sends him a glare as if warning him not to. He obeys.

"Raining... in your office? That's — that's not good, is it?" Ron gives a nervous laugh. Yaxley's eyes widen. "You think it's funny, Cattermole, do you?"

A pair of witches break away from the queue for the lift and bustle off. Spencer places her lips into a thin line and when she notices Yaxley's sharp nod being given to Ricky and an eyeing on her body, she knows exactly where she stands within the Ministry.

"No," Ron clears his throat, "no, of course—"

"You realize that I am on my way downstairs to interrogate your wife, Cattermole? In fact, I'm quite surprised you're not down there holding her hand while she waits. Already given her up as a bad job, have you? Probably wise. Be sure and marry a pureblood next time," Yaxley sneers, turning his attention back to this supposed Cattermole.

"I — I —" stammers Ron.

"But if my wife were accused of being a Mudblood," Yaxley starts off threateningly. Spencer stares at Ricky spotting how he almost went to flinch before stopping himself, "—not that any woman I married would ever be mistaken for such filth — and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I would make it my priority to do that job, Cattermole. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," whispers Ron.

"Then attend to it, Cattermole, and if my office is not completely dry within an hour, your wife's Blood Status will be in even graver doubt than it is now," Yaxley finishes off coldly. The golden grille before them clatter open. With a nod and unpleasant smile to Harry, who is evidently expected to appreciate this treatment of Cattermole, Yaxley sweeps away toward another lift. Spencer, Ricky, Harry, Ron, and Hermione enter theirs, but nobody follows them: It is as if they are infectious. The grilles shut with a clang and the lift begin to move upward.

"What am I going to do?" Ron asks the other two at once; he looks stricken. "If I don't turn up, my wife — I mean, Cattermole's wife—"

"We'll come with you, we should stick together —" begins Harry, but Ron shakes his head feverishly.

"That's mental, we haven't got much time. You four find Umbridge, I'll go and sort out Yaxley's office — but how do I stop it raining?"

"Finite Incantatem," Spencer says easily at the same time that Hermione answers, "Try Finite Incantatem."

The two girls sent each other a smile. "That should stop it if it's a hex or a curse," Hermione continues.

"If it doesn't I'd consider grabbing your wife and fleeing from here— or try Impervius to protect his belongings. Or try the Meteolojinx Recanto," Spencer advices, patting his shoulder and barely noticing that her nails are painted a deadly red color. She has to admit, this Adrina Castlenor person may be cruel, but quite a fashionista. More so than she has been for weeks.

Ron heads to say something before in that moment the lift judders to a halt. A disembodied female voice says, "Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau," and the grilles slides open again, admitting a couple of wizards and several pale violet paper airplanes that flutter around the lamp in the ceiling of the lift.

"Morning, Albert. Castlenors," says a bushily whiskered man, smiling at Harry, Spencer, and Ricky. Spencer barely gives him a glance hoping that her guess is right and that she is respected. All he does is stare at Harry, so she supposed it works. The lift stops and the grilles open once more.

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services," says the disembodied witch's voice. Hermione gives Ron a little push. He hurries out of the lift and while Spencer and Ricky plan to stay with the other two, all hope is lost when she hears a familiar voice come their way.

One that she recognizes far too well for it being almost sixteen years that she has heard it. "The Castlenors are taking too long and if they were not the greatest hit wizards I would— Oh, there you two are!"

The other three slightly raise their eyebrow in confusion while Spencer feels herself pale. Ricky glances at the woman and then back at Spencer as if he can see the similarities and then, his own eyes widen in surprise. Right in front of them stands a beautiful elder woman seeming an average version of tall with a stance releasing nothing but confidence. One whose name is that of glory and gold. Glorious Montague. Or also known as Spencer's own wretched mother.

"M— Miss Montague," Spencer stares right at those familiar eyes with a pair she does not recognize. Her own mother raises an eyebrow curiously before smiling. Spencer forces herself not to look surprise by receiving that smile and instead chins up, grabbing Ricky's arms forcibly. "You were expecting us?"

Glorious barely glances at Hermione and Harry as she ushers for the 'Castlenors' to get out of the lift. Spencer sends a hidden nod toward the other two before forcing Ricky to follow along with her. Ricky glances at his best friend before mimicking the way she has her back straight and a blank look on her face revealing nothing. He is not good at it as she is, but for the face that he is wearing, it seems to be easier to do.

"Ah, let's head to my office then," Glorious starts off, strutting toward a room that Spencer does not understand why her mother is heading there. At least, not until her eyes sees the title on front of the door.

ɢʟᴏʀɪᴏᴜs ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴏɴᴛᴀɢᴜᴇ
ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏf ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ʟᴀᴡ ᴇɴfᴏʀᴄᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ sqᴜᴀᴅ
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏf ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇʙᴏʀɴ ʀᴇɢɪsᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Her parents have received a job upgrade... as head of the hit wizards. Spencer stares down at the clothes she is wearing. From the looks of it (not her but everyone else), she is a hit witch and her brother a hit wizard, but why are they wearing this and not something less... formal? She does not question it as her eyes fall to the person sitting behind a desk. Spencer clenches her jaw at the remembrance at what her father had told her moments before she ran away. He glances up and gives the same smile her mother had given them.

"Adrina and Axel," he greets coldly. "The greatest hit wizards there is. How is it being the leader now?"

So the twins are the leaders, Spencer makes a note to herself. Noticing that his attention is on Ricky, she makes eye contact with him and gives him a slight movement to start talking. Ricky clears his throat and answers, "Well."

Vague and short. Good choice, she nods internally. Her father does not seem surprise by the shortness of answer and nods. "Yes, I'd imagine you two miss hunting down Dark wizards," there is a sinister smile on her father's lips that make her realize the twins are not ones who listen to the old Ministry, but the new one. The Death Eaters. She is a tad surprise, however. They do not have a mark and yet are greatly feared by others. Currently, her father is trying to 'joke' with them.

Just as Ricky is about to agree, Spencer steps in, "The only thing we'll be missing is the chance of doing the hunt now." She arches an eyebrow not finding the courage to mimic his wicked smile. Oliver seems to be please with her answer and turns to his wife who laughs.

"Yes, speaking of that..." Glorious regains their attention and heads to get some files. Spencer stays on her spot and only lets her eyes wander down to the papers curiously. She forces herself not to look alarm as she spots Harry and her actual face on two different piles. "We know how good the two of you are as hit wizards. Always somehow tracking those available. The tricks you pull on the ones that serve the Dark Lord and give them an easy route."

She hands Harry's file to Ricky and her own to well her. Spencer takes it swiftly and analyzes her own file. There is nothing new about it except that time she used magic to help Harry escape. That means that the Trace really is gone and can no longer be tracked. Spencer reads what she has on her own file and then glances up at her mother.

"What are you proposing, Glorious?"  Spencer lets her eyes connect with the woman.

Glorious stares at her in surprise. "Well, to catch the two of them, of course! Yaxley has informed us that the blood-traitor's kid, Ronald, is sick. Harry Potter is most likely on the run already and I have no doubt that this girl is right along with him," she scoffs, shaking her head as she points to the file Spencer is holding.

"You want us to find and bring them in?" Spencer repeats, her jaw clenching tighter. Her hand clutches her own file before she exchanges it with Ricky to make them see both of who they are trying to catch. She knows how much they have never liked her. How much they have been so disappointed in her. But for them to want the hit wizards to catch them?

"Of course. The Dark Lord will be splendid. Well, she isn't much of importance," Glorious nods assuredly, taking back the two files.

Ricky seems on the verge of yelling his head off before he takes a deep breath and then glances at the older man. "You want us to catch your own daughter?"

Oliver narrows his eyes at the two of them. "Where are you going with this, Axel?"

"Well," Ricky starts off nonchalantly, "I'm assuming you were already keeping an eye out for her. Today is her birthday, tell me did you get her anything—"

Spencer glares at her best friend. "Dial it down, R— brother," she snaps. Glorious scoffs at their words and steals back the file from Ricky's hands.

"How dare you assume our alliance differs from the Dark Lord," she snarls at the tall man. "She is but a means to an end. After that traitor son of ours... I do not understand the misfortune we have with those type."

Oliver stands up from his seat. "We did not ask the two of you to come to question us, but rather to do your job. It is more of our daughter's request that we bring her sister along," he announces loudly. Standing right in front of Ricky, he stares at him coldly and adds, "Now do it."

Spencer grabs Ricky's arms and pulls him back noticing the way he turns his hand into fists as if he is about to swing at her father. She gives a short nod to the two of them. "Our mistake. We were just making sure your allegiance do not divert elsewhere. Something about children being a parent's weakness or of some sort," she speaks professionally.

Glorious finally regains back at her smile. "I don't think that's a problem." The older woman lifts up her sleeve and Spencer feels her whole system freeze as she spots the familiar Dark Mark on her mother's left arm. How foolish is she? She knows Morgana had gotten the Mark— why wouldn't her parents? Spencer forces down a gulp and instead purses her lips into a thin line.

Her father glances down at his own arm as if remembering something before he walks beside his wife. "Let's go to Level One. I heard some will be questioned," he claims, grabbing his wand and case.

The two Ravenclaws share a look before Spencer tells them, "We would love to watch as well." She fakes a smile and internally sighs when the two of them nod in understanding.

The four of them head past familiar pathways bringing Spencer back to the memory of the Department of Mysteries. She shares a look with Ricky as they reach the foot of the stairs to their destination and slightly pale at the dreadful scene in front of them. The dark passage outside the courtrooms is packed with tall, black-hooded figures, their faces completely hidden, their ragged breathing the only sound in the place. The petrified Muggle-borns brought in for questioning sit huddled and shivering on hard wooden benches. Most of them are hiding their faces in their hands, perhaps in an instinctive attempt to shield themselves from the dementors' greedy mouths. Some are accompanied by families, others sit alone. The dementors are gliding up and down in front of them, and the cold, and the hopelessness, and the despair of the place laid themselves upon Spencer like a curse...

Her parents pass them with a shudder and heads toward one of the dungeon doors on the left of the corridor. Screams echo out of it. "No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he's a well-known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you — get your hands off me, get your hands off —"

She heads to hold hands with Ricky before stopping herself. It seems he wanted to do so as well before remembering they are both not know they are.

"This is your final warning," that familiar soft and ugly voice comments, magically magnified so that it sounds clearly over the man's desperate screams. "If you struggle, you will be subjected to the Dementor's Kiss."

Spencer bites back her tongue harshly knowing incoherent words wanting to escape her mouth at the sight of her. The man's screams subside, but dry sobs echo through the corridor. She swallows deeply and stares numbly at the same pink-colored woman that made her fifth-year questionable.

"Take him away," Dolores Umbridge orders. She forces herself not to gasp as two dementors appear in the doorway of the courtroom, their rotting, scabbed hands clutching the upper arms of a wizard who appears to be fainting. They glide away down the corridor with him, and the darkness they trail behind them swallow him from sight.

"Next — Mary Cattermole," calls Umbridge. Spencer glances at Ricky and notices his raised eyebrow knowing that this must be the wife of who Ron is pretending to be. A small woman stands up; she is trembling from head to foot. Her dark hair is smoothed back into a bun and she wears long, plain robes. Her face is completely bloodless. As she passes the dementors, the two of them notice her shudder. Spencer and Ricky are sitting on the front beside her parents, the young Montague right beside her father not wanting Ricky to even be remotely touching any of them.

Umbridge, with Yaxley on one side of her, and Hermione, quite as white-faced as Mrs. Cattermole, on the other. The young girl notices the two of them and her eyes clearly show fear. Spencer motions to Umbridge with her own eyes as if wondering if she has gotten the necklace. Thankfully, Hermione seems to understand as she shakes her head a little to the side. At the foot of the platform, a bright-silver, long-haired cat prowls up and down, and Spencer soon realize that it is there to protect the prosecutors from the despair that emanated from the dementors. No wonder she no longer feels that same dark feeling. Also, she cannot believe that she shares a similar Patronus to Umbridge... that is literally the worst thing ever.

"Sit down," Umbridge demands in her soft, silky voice. Spencer truly wishes she can hex the woman into oblivion. Mrs. Cattermole stumbles to the single seat in the middle of the floor beneath the raised platform. The moment she sits down, chains clink out of the arms of the chair and bound her there.

"You are Mary Elizabeth Cattermole?" asks Umbridge. Mrs. Cattermole gives a single, shaky nod. "Married to Reginald Cattermole of the Magical Maintenance Department?" Mrs. Cattermole bursts into tears.

"I don't know where he is, he was supposed to meet me here!" The woman cries for her husband. Spencer internally flinches knowing they had stunned the poor man... he just wanted to be there for his wife. Like the same ugly toad she had been at Hogwarts, Umbridge ignores her.

"Mother to Maisie, Ellie, and Alfred Cattermole?" The pink-stupid woman continues. Spencer lets her eyes water. The woman has kids. She has kids that can possibly continue on their life without a mother all because of her blood status. Mrs. Cattermole sobs harder than ever.

"They're frightened, they think I might not come back home —"

"Spare us," spits Yaxley. "The brats of Mudbloods do not stir our sympathies."

Spencer closes her eyes and yet it does not help. Not when beside her the two people that are biologically her parents are murmuring as if this is a show to be fascinated by. She reopens them and let them wander up to Hermione. To her surprise, Harry— or the person Harry is pretending to be— is right behind her.

"A wand was taken from you upon your arrival at the Ministry today, Mrs. Cattermole," Umbridge is saying. "Eight-and-three- quarter inches, cherry, unicorn-hair core. Do you recognize that description?"

Mrs. Cattermole nods, mopping her eyes on her sleeve. "Could you please tell us from which witch or wizard you took that wand?"

Took? Spencer glares at the scene. There is nothing more than her wishing she can simply point her wand at the woman and Yaxley to bind them glued shut to the floor. Spencer is positive she can do it. Though, that may lead her to Azkaban. Then again, everything with them is practically legal in the use of dark magic. Though, the spell she is thinking about is not dark magic at all. She read it from the one Remus gifted her on her birthday.

"T-took?" sobs Mrs. Cattermole. "I didn't t-take it from anybody. I b-bought it when I was eleven years old. It — it — it — chose me," she cries harder than ever.

Umbridge laughs a soft girlish laugh that makes Spencer want to attack. She leans forward over the barrier, the better to observe her victim, and something gold swings forward too, and dangles over the void: the locket. Spencer nudges Ricky and he seems to notice it right away.

"No," Umbridge denies, "no, I don't think so, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches or wizards. You are not a witch. I have your responses to the questionnaire that was sent to you here — Mafalda, pass them to me."

Umbridge holds out a small hand. Spencer squints her eyes as if that will help her listen to what Hermione is saying to the woman. However, she does hear Umbridge's loud voice booming, "Oh yes — an old family heirloom. The S stands for Selwyn... I am related to the Selwyns... Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related... A pity," she continues in a louder voice, flicking through Mrs. Cattermole's questionnaire, "that the same cannot be said for you. 'Parents' professions: greengrocers.'"

Yaxley laughs jeeringly. Spencer scoffs silently before noticing her friend go rigid at the woman's voice. Her own hand slowly travels to her wand knowing he is about to let his anger shine right through all their mask which only means it is time to act. Ricky notices her movements and heads to do the same.

"Stupefy!" Harry yells and then there is a flash of red light. Umbridge crumples and her forehead hits the edge of the balustrade: Mrs. Cattermole's papers slid off her lap onto the floor and, down below, the prowling silver cat vanishes. Ice-cold air hit all of them like an oncoming wind: Yaxley, confused, looks around for the source of the trouble and notices Harry's hand and wand pointing at him. He tries to draw his own wand, but too late: "Stupefy!"

Yaxley slides to the ground to lie curled on the floor.

Spencer's own parents stand up in horror and point their wand at Harry before she does the same to them (and Ricky does as well). "I don't think so, Glorious," she snarls at her mother, hexing her immediately after with her own Stunning charm that may have been way too harsh than it should have been. Then again, perhaps they deserve worse. After all the pain they have brought her... She ignores the way their body trembles strongly like if they are having a horrible seizure and instead heads toward Umbridge while Ricky heads to help Harry with Mrs. Cattermole.

The young Montague crouches down to the pink toad-faced woman and tilts her head curiously. "I promised Harry you would get what you deserve," she mutters darkly before turning her hand into fists and smacking it right on Umbridge's face.

"Spence!" Hermione gasps, her eyes widening in surprise at her friend's action. Spencer shrugs uncaringly before yanking the necklace out of the woman's short neck.

"I know a few languages and many words, Dolores, but nothing gathers it up better than 'Fuck you'," Spencer sneers. She stands up from her place and heads back to her parents. The young Montague stares coldly at her parents, watching as they eye her in fear, surprise, and realization of whom she may be.

She tilts her head threateningly. "I hate the two of you. Even without me here... you treat me like I am nothing," Spencer voices clearly. She lets those words echo in her head. They have never cared. Never loved. Never, never, never. "I wish you can remember this moment. Where I am standing above you and you are nothing but defenseless... unfortunately, I can't have you risking Ricky and Hermione being with us, so Obliviate," she points her wand and notice their eyes glow like how it had gone back at the café. Oh, how it feels so good to finally use magic... Once that is over with, Spencer takes a step back before she changes her mind and points her wand once more, Stupefy! This time, their whole body shuts down and are left unconscious.

She returns back to her position with Ricky who holds her hand without hesitation. The two stay close to Hermione, Harry, and Mrs. Cattermole. "You're going to leave here with us," Harry mumbles to the woman and gathers her to her feet. "Go home, grab your children, and get out, get out of the country if you've got to. Disguise yourselves and run. You've seen how it is, you won't get anything like a fair hearing here."

"Harry," Hermione calls nervously, "how are we going to get out of here with all those dementors outside the door?"

"Patronuses," Harry answers, pointing his wand at his own: The stag slows and walks, still gleaming brightly, toward the door. "As many as we can muster; do all of yours."

Spencer and Ricky nod in acceptance and point their wand up. "Expecto Patronum!" She casts at the same time as Ricky. Her familiar silverly cat comes out of her wand like if it is mystical and it shuns out a few Dementors. Ricky's mockingbird then appears as well and it does the same. All four of them (after Hermione cast hers) huddle up together close like a family allowing them a chance to escape.

"C'mon," Harry orders, and he leads them through he door. When the Patronuses glide out of the dungeon there are cries of shock from the people waiting outside. Harry looks around; the dementors are falling back on both sides of them, melding into the darkness, scattering before the silver creatures.

"It's been decided that you should all go home and go into hiding with your families," Harry tells the waiting Muggle-borns, who are dazzled by the light of the Patronuses and still cowering slightly. "Go abroad if you can. Just get well away from the Ministry. That's the — er — new official position. Now, if you'll just follow the Patronuses, you'll be able to leave from the Atrium."

Spencer snaps her head toward Harry. "Is that a good idea?" She warns him knowing their Patronuses, especially his, would cause unwanted attention. He seems to have doubt appear in his face before the lift clang to a halt in front of them.

"Reg!" screams Mrs. Cattermole, and she throws herself into Ron's arms. "Runcorn let me out, he attacked Umbridge and Yaxley, and he's told all of us to leave the country, I think we'd better do it, Reg, I really do, let's hurry home and fetch the children and — why are you so wet?"

"Water," mutters Ron, disengaging himself. "Harry, they know there are intruders inside the Ministry, something about a hole in Umbridge's office door, I reckon we've got five minutes if that —"

Hermione's Patronus vanishes with a pop as she turns a horror-struck face to Harry. Spencer keeps her up for a few seconds before letting Harry and Ricky handle it.

"Harry, if we're trapped here — !" Hermione exclaims worriedly.

"We won't be if we move fast," Harry assures confidently. He addresses the silent group behind them, who are all gawping at him. "Who's got wands?"

About half of them raise their hands.

"Okay, all of you who haven't got wands need to attach yourself to somebody who has. We'll need to be fast before they stop us. Come on," Harry orders like the very leader he is. They manage to cram themselves into two lifts. Harry's Patronus stood sentinel before the golden grilles as they shut and the lifts began to rise.

"Level eight," says the witch's cool voice, "Atrium."

Shit, Spencer curses internally. That is possibly the worst place to head. The Atrium is full of people moving from fireplace to fireplace, sealing them off.

"Harry!" squeaks Hermione. "What are we going t— ?"

"STOP!" Harry thunders, and the powerful voice of Runcorn echoes through the Atrium: The wizards sealing the fireplaces freeze. Spencer hums impressively before listening to him closely. "Follow me," he whispers to the group of terrified Muggle-borns, who move forward in a huddle, shepherded by the other four.

"What's up, Albert?" asks a balding wizard nervously.

"This lot need to leave before you seal the exits," Harry claims with all the authority he could muster. The group of wizards in front of him look at one another. "We've been told to seal all exits and not let anyone —"

"Are you contradicting me?" Harry blusters angrily. "Would you like me to have your family tree examined, like I had Dirk Cresswell's?"

I'm glad I'm not on Harry's bad side, Spencer realizes slowly, her eyes widening at how dark his voice has gotten and she is not sure if it is because of this Albert man or because of Harry himself. Possibly both.

"Sorry!" gasps the balding wizard, backing away. "I didn't mean nothing, Albert, but I thought... I thought they were in for questioning and..."

"Their blood is pure," Harry sneers, and his deep voice echoes impressively through the hall. "Purer than many of yours, I daresay. Off you go," he booms to the Muggle-borns, who scurry forward into the fireplaces and begin to vanish in pairs. The Ministry wizards hung back, some looking confused, others scared and resentful. Then: "Mary!"

Mrs. Cattermole looks over her shoulder. The real Reg Catter- mole, no longer vomiting but pale and wan, had just come running out of a lift.

"R-Reg?"

She looks from her husband to Ron, who swore loudly. The balding wizard gapes, his head turning ludicrously from one
Reg Cattermole to the other.

"Hey — what's going on? What is this?"

"Seal the exit! SEAL IT!" The familiar voice of Yaxley comes running through another lift.  Yaxley is heading toward the group beside the fireplaces, into which all of the Muggle-borns but Mrs. Cattermole had now vanished. As the balding wizard lifts his wand, Harry raises an enormous fist and punches him, sending him flying through the air.

"He's been helping Muggle-borns escape, Yaxley!" Harry shouts. The balding wizard's colleagues set up an uproar, under cover of which Ron grabs Mrs. Cattermole, pulls her into the still-open fireplace, and disappears. Confused, Yaxley looks from Harry to the punched wizard, while the real Reg Cattermole screams, "My wife! Who was that with my wife? What's going on?"

Harry sees Yaxley's head turn, saw an inkling of the truth dawn in that brutish face. Spencer and Ricky widen their own and head right into the fireplace together. She knows well that Harry and Hermione trail right after them. Spencer ends up fleeing out of the toilet they come from and she spots Ron with Mrs. Cattermole. A few seconds later, Harry and Hermione show up as well.

"Reg, I don't understand —"

"Let go, I'm not your husband, you've got to go home!"

There is a noise in the cubicle behind them alerting them that Yaxley has just appeared. "LET'S GO!" Harry yells. He seizes Hermione by the hand and Ron by the arm (while Hermione grabs onto Spencer and Spencer is already holding onto Ricky's) and turns on the spot. Darkness engulfs them, along with the sensation of compressing bands, but something was wrong...

She wonders for a few seconds whether she is going to suffocate; she cannot breathe or see and the only solid things in the world are Ricky's and Hermione's fingers which are slowly slipping away... And then she sees the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, with its serpent door knocker, but before she can draw a breath of relief, there is a scream and a flash of purple light— is that Yaxley? Spencer cannot think much on it as Hermione's hand is suddenly vicelike upon her and everything goes dark again.

(And while it does, Spencer wonders if this birthday is actually her last because if it is well... at least she punched Umbridge and hexed her own parents).

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
ugh my favorite part is her hexing her
parents and punching umbridge 😁

but happy birthday to my baby i love her
so much and she deserves to be happy forever

also, yes, if u think adrina and axel's name are
familiar it's because u might have read then&now
and jane louise's friend are the castlenors BUT
THEYRE NOT THE SAME i just didn't know
what to name them—