Fan Fiction / Beyblade Fan Fiction ❯ Shadows at Daybreak ❯ Dealings With a Dumbledore. ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade, or Harry Potter, though I am working on a book of my own. Maybe it'll be don by the time I'm thirty.

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Sitting on the leather chair in the minister's office, Hermione listened as he explained why they wouldn't be seeing his grandfather for a while.

"He has many things to do, Miss Granger. He just wants you to know that he'll see again even though it might not be soon." Merrick's violet eyes started to twinkle again when he heard her snort. "Now, now. We Dumbledores must be mysterious."

Hermione Just stared at him. "What's going on exactly, sir?" She was just so tired of being confused.

Merrik sighed, and the guarded expression came back to his eyes. "A few days ago," he explained. "Professor Dumbledore, my grandfather, apparated into my office. I knew it was him, since only my family can arrive that way. He told me that he had seen Harry Potter alive himself over one week ago. Needless to say I was incredulous. My uncle Cornelius," he had to fight back a laugh at the disgusted look she was now wearing," had told everyone that Potter was dead, and that he had the boy's killer in Azkaban for the next twenty years. My grandfather reminded me of several occasions in which my uncle had been wrong. The Sirius Black case was among them. He convinced me to side with him when he reminded me that you had also been charged with killing him off. That was all I needed to go to the ministry, to plead your case."

She frowned. "Aren't you the one who tells the Wizengamot what to vote? Couldn't you have just let me out?"

"No, Hermione," he told her. "I am but one voice. The entire Wizengamot has to agree on what to do about the prisoners of Azkaban. The only thing I could do was go before them in your behalf."

Hermione's face hardened. "I'm not free," she said. "Am I?"

It was Merrik's turn to frown. His grandfather had, of course, told him how brilliant she was, but he had always been one to exaggerate. He hadn't thought that she would ask that particular question just yet.

"No, not yet. The Wizengamot has agreed that if you yourself bring Harry Potter to them alive in one year, they will let you free." Hermione's expression darkened. "How the hell will I do that?" She demanded. The man was making her daft.

"Well," he said slowly, "In accordance to the information my grandfather found about Harry, he and his team of elite will be competing in the World Beyblade Tournament. We've called in some favors, and managed to get you a spot on the World Champion BladeBreakers with your cousin, Tyson. By the way," he exclaimed as he opened one of the drawers. "I think this belongs to you." He handed her a blood red blade.

Gryfnix. The blade warmed her hand, and the bit-piece flashed.

She just sat there, shocked. "What does beyblading have to do with Harry?"

Merrik stood, and started to pace the floor in front of her. "Potter has assembled a team of bladers that have some sort of magically inclined blades. They've all got magical beasts that rival every bit-beast on earth with the exception of your own. With those beasts on their side, no one will stop them from taking over the muggle world. If that happens the wizarding world will be destroyed."

Hermione leaned back in her seat, and rubbed the scar on her cheek. If she didn't go, the entire world would be destroyed. (AN: God's but I am melodramatic!) If she did go, she herself would most likely never be seen again. Well, she would at least get to see Tyson again. Tyson. If she didn't go he would be nothing more than a muggle slave. She wouldn't let that happen to him.

"I'll need information on their blades, the names of the teammates, and mine, and," she said with sudden inspiration, "A new wand."

Merrik stopped pacing, and grinned at her. He pulled her into his arms, and hugged her. "Everything will be arranged for you," he muttered against her hair. "Mr. Ollivander will be over soon to give you a new wand as well. You don't know how much this means to the world, Hermione."

She pushed him away, and glared into his eyes. "Understand this," she spat at him. "I don't care what happens to the wizards or the muggles, I just want to save my cousin, and get my revenge on Potter. Nothing else." She stiffened when his eyes widened.

"Just so," he squeaked sounding very much like Dobby. "Just so."

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After about twenty minutes, Mr. Ollivander himself came tumbling in through the fireplace just after thirty or so long, thin boxes. He made her everyone twice, and then a third time just to make sure. After an hour he stopped, and stared at her. He reached into his pocket, pulled out another box, and gave it to her.

"Phoenix feather, and one Sphinx hair." He told her.

Hermione opened the box, and grasped the handle of the thin wand. Her entire body tingled, and grew warm. She felt the blade in her pocket heat up as well.

"This one will do very well for you," He said. "Very well indeed."

She nodded and clutched the wand tightly in her fist. She smiled, lightly. Wouldn't Tyson get a kick out of this?

"Wait," she said suddenly. "How am I going to do this without telling Tyson, and his teammates anything?" she asked. "Tyson himself may not be the smartest monkey in the tree, but the others are bound to notice that there's me."

She was surprised enough to gasp at the words that next came from Merrik. "You tell them of course," he explained slowly, as if speaking to a very small child. "But only when they need to know. The tournament will be in a little over five months, and will take the same amount of time to complete. You will stay here, and practice your magic until it's time for you to leave. My Grandfather should be back by then, and he will take you to Japan. In the meantime, I will be here for you."

Hermione smiled, her first genuine smile in two years. There had been nothing to smile about past her fifteenth birthday. She looked down when she heard a loud grumble, and grinned sheepishly. "I'm ah, sort of hungry." Merrik just smiled, and led her towards the door.

"If 'tis food you wish, mi'lady. Then all you needs do is ask." He said cheekily. Hermione just rolled her eyes, and followed him out of the door.

All Dumbledores are bloody annoying.

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