FLIPPED - harry potter

༺ 77 - the ministry.

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| THE MINISTRY |
"if I do, you have permission to divorce me."

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ALORA STRUGGLED TO SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT; daunting anxiety spread over her as she religiously tossed and turned in her bed, the idea of the increasing pain in her side swarmed her mind, as did the Ministry plan.

What if it went wrong? What would happen then?

Nonetheless, dawn soon broke through Grimmauld Place. Alora was the last to make it downstairs, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she entered the kitchen.

"Hot roll, Master?" Kreacher hurried forward, holding a tray of bread.

"I'm alright, Kreacher," she smiled. "Thank you."

Harry came forward and planted a kiss on her cheek, "You okay, Lora? You kept turning during the night."

She nodded, "I'm okay, just a bit nervous."

They soon set off upstairs after gathering themselves. Kreacher bowed to them on their way out and promised to have a steak-and-kidney pie ready upon their return. Alora sent him a gentle smile. It was strange seeing the elf she once loathed become so domestic.

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

They made their way onto the front step with immense caution. They could see a couple of puffy-eyed Death Eaters watching the house from across the misty square. Hermione disapparated with Ron first, then came back for Harry and Alora

After the usual brief spell of darkness and near suffocation, Alora found herself in a deserted alleyway where the first part of the plan was meant to commence; a few dusty old bins that had not been cleared yet.

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

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

Hermione squealed,  "I nearly forgot! Stand back— "

She pointed her wand at the padlocked and heavily graffitied fire door beside them, which burst open with a crash. The dark corridor behind it led, as they knew from their careful scouting trips, into an empty theater. Hermione pulled the door back toward her, to make it look as though it was still closed.

"And now," she said, turning back to face the other three in the alley way, "we put on the Cloak again— "

"—and we wait." Ron hurriedly finished.

Just over a minute later, there was a tiny pop and a little Ministry witch with flyaway gray hair Apparated a foot from them, blinking a little in the sudden brightness; Hermione cast the spell which sent her toppling over.

"Nicely done, Hermione," nodded Ron.

Together they carried the little witch into the dark passageway that led backstage. Hermione plucked a few hairs from the witch's head and added them to a flask of muddy Polyjuice Potion she had taken from the beaded bag.

"She's Mafalda Hopkirk," Ron read off a small card by her side. "You'd better take this, Hermione, and here are the tokens."

He passed her several small golden coins, all embossed with the letters M.O.M, which he had taken from the witch's purse. Hermione drank the Polyjuice Potion, which was now a pleasant heliotrope color, and within seconds stood before them, the double of Mafalda Hopkirk.