Voir

Float On

The traipse through the ministry was a necessary evil, and one that Fenne truly dreaded.

It was no secret amongst the pureblood circles that she had 'betrayed' her family's blood purity values while she pursued her fascination with the human brain. The aristocratic circles she had endured as a child had completely turned their back on her - a sentiment she shared with them.

Her parents had groomed her to become the ideal heiress; the etiquette lessons, blood purity brainwashing and dark magic lessons priming her for their selfish purposes. And indeed, at first their plotting had succeeded. By the time she had reached eleven and her first year at Hogwarts, she was an insufferably snotty little heiress. Of course, that all backfired on them when Fenne reached her rebellious stage and ran away during the summer before her sixth year to stay with her muggleborn boyfriend, Oliver.

Their relationship had always been an odd one, borne of selfish need to feel wanted and curiosity towards how the other side lived. She would teach him pureblood customs and the weak reasoning behind the blood prejudices, while Oliver would teach her muggle science and innovation. It was Oliver who had introduced her to psychology, and had hooked her on muggle pop culture.

By the time she had reached magical majority, her family had discovered her dealings and cast her out of the family (which in hindsight, really didn't affect her at all. Her family had never kept a close relationship with her and she couldn't care less about them after all of their verbal abuse over the years).

Oliver had asked her to move in shortly before her disowning, and she accepted, abandoning the wizarding world after her seventh and final year at Hogwarts and setting out for muggle university. With the help of Albus Dumbledore, (who had taken a keen interest in her welfare when news reached him of her familial matters) she had school records fabricated in the muggle world so that she could move on to Oxford, quickly outshining her fellow classmates and progressing to her doctorate years later.

Oliver had been pulled back into the Order by Dumbledore during that time and had attempted to draw Fenne in as well (unsuccessfully), he died in the raid of Diagon Alley, while trying to bring children to safety.

It was only after Oliver's death that Fenne made her way slowly back to the magic world, agreeing to assist Dumbledore on occasion with criminal profiling in remembrance of her lover, and what he had stood for. Her Slytherin side attested that Oliver had been an idiot with sacrificing himself so readily for those he doesn't even know, and yet she had never been able to truthfully convince herself of that sentiment, instead taking the plunge into the light side of the war for his sake. Plus, it helped that she got back at those spiteful assholes who shunned her in her childhood for her interest in muggle science.

The dull roar of so many heels slapping against the atrium's marble floors met her ears as Fenne materialized in the bustling ministry. Disgruntled, she shook her robes of any floor dust that had yet to depart and stepped from the hearth with her usual grace. She may hate all the corrupt ministry stood for, but she also knew that Harry needed her help desperately. So for the moment, she would brave these treacherous halls filled with the wizarding world's foulest and try not to provoke the vipers.

Her pointy stilettos clicked against the weathered floors as she navigated the atrium, making a feeling towards the lifts. She could feel holes burning through the back of her robes as she worked her way across the great hall, knowing that many a pureblood housewife would gossip about her whereabouts that night. She met their eyes head on, her own hazel orbs issuing a silent challenge, 'Do your worst'.

Her head held high, she stepped into the crowded lift and touched her wand to the control panel. A tinny voice sounded, announcing her choice as the Department of Mysteries before the lift lurched upwards and the wait commenced. there was an awkward silence that set in over the inhabitants of the crowded elevator, a bespectacled wizard with a braided beard cast her a silent, scathing look from his corner of the elevator, resulting to murdering her with his eyes. A matriarch that seemed familiar to Fenne glared openly as she muttered phrases about traitors under her breath and clenched a fist troublingly by her side. These reactions were not uncommon.

A curious young witch, not much younger than Fenne herself, drew her gaze across Fenne's form and then up to her face, puzzled about the odd stares the witch was receiving.

Eventually, only the curious witch and Fenne remained as the other inhabitants hurriedly scurried off the lift to their respective floors. The two most aggressively onlookers practically sprinting from the lift as if it would spontaneously combust with Fenne inside it. Of course, the psychology professor's eyes rolled so intensely that she almost swore they would fall out of her head.

After what seemed like several eternities, the lift finally stopped at the Department of Mysteries, and the other witch stepped off with Fenne, earning her quirked eyebrow from the stiff witch and an acquiescing stare. The other witch visibly shifted, sticking out her hand in greeting. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, I assume you are Miss Voir?"

Fence's eyes dropped to her hand, her gaze returning to Hermione's in a heartbeat, leaving the witch's hand hanging. "Yes, I am Doctor Voir, Miss Granger."

She made sure to impart a slight emphasis on her title. While perhaps unwarranted, she was being particularly snappish to the enthusiastic girl. She simply did not have the patience, nor the energy, to deal with her.

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly before gesturing towards the ominous cherry door that laid before them. "I am to escort you to... your workspace this afternoon. If you would follow me,"

She was met with a blank stare and a tired sigh from the estranged witch, before Fenne made to follow her. "I suppose we best get a move on. I'd like to be away from here as soon as possible." Merlin, did she hate the ministry.

***

A short walk, disgruntled argument with Harry and several cups of coffee later, and Fenne stood before the Veil, with her impish friend by her side and a trunk on her other. Her eyes looked deep into the shimmering veil, her gaze saying a million things that would never reach her lips. What if it didn't work and she was just walking to her death? What if Harry had miscalculated and they ended up with the dinosaurs? She inwardly snorted at that idea, Harry would fit right in. Hell, he'd probably start riding the Tyrannosauruses. Squaring her shoulders, she looked to her right to cast a slightly anxious glance to the complex wizard who was behind this crazy idea. "Are you sure this'll work? I do not want to end up in an alternate universe where you are in a position of power or anything..."

Harry chuckled lightly before placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and grant her a look of affection. "I promise. I've done this quite a few times, as it's my job. We'll be fine, all you have to do is steer Riddle away form Hogwarts and we'll be golden. Don't worry so much, your personality should be enough as it is." a smirk stretched across his mouth, which was met with a completely unimpressed look from his female counterpart.

"Funny. With that weak of a witty comment perhaps I should be more afraid for my safety on this trip."

A wink was her only response before Harry grabbed her hand and pulled as he ran full tilt for the veil. She stumbled as he rushed forward, only realizing what was happy when the icy cold of the veil met her face and the colours blurred together.

Everything was dark, she stood in an empty hall and had only a moment to cast a passing glance at her lack of surroundings before she felt as if she was hurtling through time itself, whispers and shuts rushed past her at whiplash speeds before everything just stopped, and she fell to the floor.

When she woke, the first thing she saw were a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

She groaned. Fucking hell.