Chapter 3
“Miss Granger, I think you must be after my job,” Kingsley said quietly as he knelt down beside her and Dolohov. She heard him whisper something before he stood back up.
“Best get up, love. I think he is enjoying that a bit too much,” Kingsley joked loudly as he helped Hermione to her feet.
The crowd laughed, and someone muttered something about excitable young girls in heels being a hazard, but most people had lost interest in the spectacle, once more focused on the Prime Minister and his entourage.
Dolohov stood up mechanically.
“Robards, I will just see the girl gets her ankle looked at,” he said to his partner, a stern-looking man with salt and pepper hair standing behind the Minister. He widened his eyes at the sight of Dolohov and nodded in understanding.
“Miss Granger. Is there somewhere private we can speak?” Kingsley asked her quietly.
She nodded and led him and Dolohov to the storage room at the back, near the grotto. Kingsley immediately warded and silenced the room. He then roughly shoved Dolohov against a wall and cast an incarcerous while still physically restraining him against the wall.
“Dolohov,” he snarled. “Did you draw the short straw tonight? Did Lucius not want you at their Christmas Ball?”
Dolohov grunted as the compulsion spell that Kingsley had used to get him to cooperate in front of the muggles began to wear off. He struggled against the invisible restraints.
Kingsley patted him down for his wand or any other weapons. He uncovered a few small glass potion ampules. “Love and lust potions,” Kingsley sneered in disgust. “Bit desperate after Azkaban, are you?”
“Fuck off,” Dolohov spat, struggling against Kingsley’s grip. “I was doing just fine without them until Kukolka here interrupted me,” he said, attempting to lunge at her.
“Sorry I interrupted your snogfest with a MUGGLE?” Hermione taunted angrily as Kingsley continued his search. “Were you hiding in the dark because you were embarrassed to find one attractive?”
“Jealous Kukolka ? Your cousin is a pretty little thing, but I should have used one on you, little witch. I like to play in the mud now and then. Those little outfits are irresistible. Even a pureblood prick like Malfoy would be tempted.”
“You are disgusting,” Hermione declared as she slapped him, her cheeks burning as he laughed.
“Such a fiery little thing. So passionate. Did you enjoy wrestling me to the floor?”
Kingsley finished his search and grabbed Dolohov by the chin. “All those etiquette lessons, and you still don’t know how to speak to a lady.”
Pinching Dolohov’s lips open, he squeezed two drops of potion into his mouth. “Verisatum,” he explained; Hermione didn’t know if he was addressing her or Dolohov.
“Now tell me. Are you here with anyone else?”
“No,” Dolohov said without emotion.
“What were you here to do?” Kingsley asked through gritted teeth.
“Imperiuse the muggle Prime Minister and encourage him to not trust you or Robards. He wants you to be removed from the detail and Yaxley and Graves to be assigned to guard the Minister.”
“Where is your wand.”
“Kukolka knocked it out of my hand when she threw herself at me.”
“I … I… did,” Hermione confirmed, her voice trembling slightly with the aftershock of what she had done.
Kingsley nodded and summoned his Patronus, a regal looking lynx.
“Apprehended Dolohov. Sending him through for interrogation now. Search and possible obliviation required. Send whoever is available. This apparition location is secure,” he clipped. The lynx darted away, disappearing through the precarious stacks of presents that had been collected.
He placed an enamel Christmas cat pin on Dolohov’s collar, “ Portus ,” he intoned as he stepped back, and Dolohov was portkeyed away.
Almost immediately, people popped into the storage room. The distinctive pops of apparitions could be heard over the orchestral carols playing on the loudspeaker in the other room.
“Cor, where are we?” a tall, lanky redhead asked, looking around the room at the brightly colored presents.
“Highbury House,” Hermione answered automatically in a shaky bewildered voice.
“Mione?” an incredulous voice exclaimed, turning to face her.
“Merlin, what are you wearing?” George muttered as he eyed her up and down appreciatively.
“I don’t know Forge, but dad is right. Muggles are geniuses,” Fred said, clapping George on the shoulder and smiling broadly at Hermione.
Remus stepped up behind them and cuffed them on the back of their heads.
“Focus, boys,” he said in his soft growl causing Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley to laugh.
“Miss Granger, Kings,” Remus greeted them. “Good to see you both but I thought it was agreed that Harry and his friends were too young to be in the Order?”
“We did. However, Miss. Granger apprehended Dolohov this evening…”
“She got Dolohov?!” Fred suddenly whooped, lifting her into a hug with George joining in. “That scum killed our uncles. Mum has been a wreck since his escape. And our Mione took him down wearing a tutu,” they laughed, squeezing her between them.
“Boys, put Miss Granger down. I don’t think she can breathe,” Kingsley said patiently. “Dolohov’s been sent to a safe house for interrogation. We don’t have long. Robards likely assumes I have sent him to the DMLE and summoned the Aurors, which I will have to do soon. In the meantime, what we need to do is sweep the premises. Dolohov claimed he was alone, but we need to be certain. And we need to secure his wand; Miss Granger knocked it out of his hand. It is a crowded event. A muggle holiday party, so transfigure something appropriate to wear.”
“Like what Mione is wearing?” George asked.
“This a costume, not muggle fashion,” she laughed. “I was helping out with the event.”
Kingsley rolled his eyes at the flustered twins and temporarily transfigured their worn jeans and Weasley jumpers into tailored copies of suits like his.
“Tonks, can you go with Miss. Granger to check on her cousin and run a diagnostic. I think she may have been potioned or spelled. The rest of us will fan out and search for the wand and confirm that he was alone.”