AN: Thank Hebe that this is a better chapter than it was.


"May I haff this dance?"

Hermione looked up at Viktor, who looked charming in his formal robes, and smiled gratefully. "Absolutely."

He led her out onto the dance floor and turned her into a spin. "You look completely overvelmed," he said.

"Is it that obvious?"

"To me. I haff not seen you looking this vay before. It is a lot of names and faces, no?"

"It is. It's driving me a little crazy trying to keep track of them all. And they're all so incredibly smart. It's very intimidating."

"They should be intimidated by you. You are very, very smart."

He whirled her around again, and she laughed. "I think you might be overestimating my abilities."

"Nonsense." He smiled, looking down his long nose at her. "How haff you been? It is a long time since I heard from you last."

"I've been pretty busy with the new promotion. It's a little like being thrown in at the deep end."

Viktor frowned. "I don't haff happy memories of you in deep vater."

She winced, remembering how Viktor had freed her from the lake during the Tri-wizard Tournament. "No, I daresay you don't. But that imagery is also apt."

He tilted his head to the side. "Vut's wrong?"

She closed her eyes, unable to lie to him and unable to tell the truth. "I'll tell you tomorrow. I just want to get through tonight."

"Okay. This, I understand."

"Tell me about you? What have you been up to since you left sports?"

He smiled. "My cousin Ivan got me a job at the Ministry. I verk vith the farm teams and keep statistics. I haff been doing this for two years now. I am too good though. They vant to give me a desk. This would be unbearable."

She laughed, easily picturing Viktor with a few more decades under his belt sauntering around like Caleb. "Just keep turning them down."

"I am." He nodded over her shoulder and then spun her around to face whatever it was. "Who is this man that keeps staring at you?"

"Quintius Urquhart. He's attached to my group. He's on a fact-finding trip."

"Vell, if the facts pertain to you, he is very diligent in his verk. He is staring holes in my head. I think he is jealous."

Hermione laughed. "Perhaps. He does have his hopes."

"Does he haff hope?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Not really."

"Does anyvun?"

She smiled and hugged his shoulder where her arm rested. "I wish I had the time, but I don't, to be honest. I keep hoping life will slow down enough for me to have a life, but I've been wishing that for more years than I haven't."

"This I understand. You vere made for great things, Herm-oh-ninny. Life will not let up until you accomplish it."

She sighed, suddenly feeling even more overwhelmed. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Yes, and this is vy vee dance."

She laughed the whole way across the floor as he whirled her around and around.

:

Hermione left the reception early to work on her speech for the next day's conference. It was one in the morning, local time, when she crawled into bed and passed out.

It was four in the morning when she was jolted awake by a hand on her mouth. She immediately reached for the wand under her pillow, but another hand clamped down on her wrist.

"Granger—hurk!"

That's as far as the intruder got before she punched him in the throat. She folded herself in half and with both feet planted on his chest kicked him off of her. He flew backwards but didn't let go of her wrist so she was dragged up out of the bed and down onto the floor. She grabbed at the clock on the way and smashed it into his head. He still didn't let go, but he did start cursing up a storm.

"Fuck, woman! Stop, God damn it!" She elbowed him in the solar plexus and his curses turned inarticulate. His grip on her wrist slackened, and she scrambled up and ran for the door. She only made it two steps before he got a hold of her ankle, and she went down again. Her breath rushed out of her with a whoosh as he threw himself across her and pinned her to the floor. "Granger," he said in a rasp. "I'm not trying to hurt you!"

"Then who the hell are you!" she wheezed.

He struggled above her and croaked, "Lumos!"

She stared up at Quint, wondering how it was possible for shoulders to have so many muscles. Blood poured from a gash on his forehead. "What the hell are you doing, coming into my rooms half naked!" she snapped, ready to slap him if she didn't like his answer.

"I came to see if you were safe. I was just woken up by security. Behari is dead."

She went utterly limp. "What?" Her voice sounded small to her own ears.

Quint rolled off of her and pulled her up into a sitting position. She tugged her silk nightshirt down as far as it would go, which suddenly seemed nowhere near far enough.

"Alonso? What do you mean? Dead? How?"

"He was found floating in the pool fifteen minutes ago. They think it was an accidental drowning, but Weasley and Potter said all the deaths so far had looked like accidents."

Hermione struggled to make sense of his words as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her mind bounced from thought to thought with no rhyme or reason. Trivial things loomed large while major things like what she should do next completely escaped her. "Oh, gods," she whispered. "I have to call Sarita, his wife."

"You can do that later. I think it would be more productive right now to know who you saw him talking to tonight."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You heard our conversation in the pub."

Quint nodded. "Limited-Focus Piercing Spell let me siphon sound from inside your Muffliato."

She eyed him as she got up off the floor and grabbed her dressing gown. "You were a plant from the start, weren't you? Snape said you'd knocked into me on purpose."

He grimaced and stood up as well, gingerly stretching his arms. "Potter knew you wouldn't stop trying to investigate on your own. They were worried. I was supposed to become friendly and keep an eye on you."

Her lip curled as she pulled her wand out from under her pillow. "By pretending you liked me? Why you?"

He had the good sense to look uncomfortable. "Ron said I looked a bit like Lockhart."

"Oh, good gods…"

He flinched when she aimed her wand at him, but relaxed as she healed the cut on his head.

"So you were never interested in me at all, were you?"

He looked at his feet. "Not until a minute ago. I admit I'm a sucker for a woman that can kick my arse while wearing silk."

"What about one that can turn you into a paperweight," she said aiming her wand at him again.

"That's not nearly as attractive, no."

"Why the hell didn't you wake me up like a normal person?"

"Sorry. That was habit. My ex-girlfriend was in the Battle of Hogwarts. If you shook her shoulder, kissed her cheek, it didn't matter; she'd always wake up screaming. I learned to cover her mouth before I shook her so the neighbors would stop thinking I was trying to kill her."

Hermione shook her head, her thoughts finally slipping into gear. "Enough of this nonsense. Where's Alonso now?"

"They've taken him away to the hospital. Do you know who he spoke with tonight? Because it certainly looks like our killer is here. We need to figure out if he came with us or was here when we arrived."

Hermione nodded. "Not everyone, but I know who he intended to speak with." She tightened the sash around her waist and then looked at him again. Wearing nothing but a pair of loose pants, he seemed ridiculously well-built. "Why did security come and get you and not me?"

Again, he seemed to look sheepish. "They were coming to get you. I was sleeping on the floor across the doorway."

"You were—What on earth for? That's a bit extreme."

"Weasley told me if you got so much as a paper cut he'd have my bollocks for clackers."

Hermione pinned him with a stare as she slowly lifted her elbow to show him the rug burn that had taken off several layers of skin. "Keep me alive until I give my findings to the conference tomorrow, and I won't tell him you gave me this."

Quint blanched.

:

Hermione approached the podium feeling like she was walking underwater. Quint walked next to her the whole way. He had given up all pretense of being anything but her bodyguard, drawing confused looks from those delegates that had approached her to express their condolences all morning.

After the adrenaline had run its course, there was nothing left but the grief. Alonso had been so close to his dream of returning with his wife to the village she'd grown up in, but had postponed his retirement to help train Hermione.

She had sworn no more of her people would be hurt and had failed. So she'd locked herself in her room and prepared for this moment, while Quint had rushed off to send a message to Harry for her.

It really wasn't a dramatic speech. In fact, it was quite boring. It occurred to her suddenly that she really didn't give a rat's arse about ley lines. She hated her job with a passion. Caleb had been right. It wasn't the job, it was the people. Remove her people, and she saw the job for what it was—tedious and banal.

She looked at Quint, but he wasn't looking at her, he was trying to look at the entire room at once. Holding her wand to her throat, she whispered a Sonorous Charm. There was a murmur of cloth around the room as the other delegates dutifully applied their Translation Spells.

"Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen. For those I didn't get a chance to greet last night, I am Hermione Granger, Delegate from Great Britain.

"I would like to thank you, on behalf of the family of Alonso Behari and my Government for your kind words and condolences on his tragic death." The words stuck in her throat. She and Quint had agreed that it was best to follow the official line in public. "I know many of you have known Alonso for years and are as aggrieved by this heartbreaking loss as we are."

She took a deep breath. "As for the business at hand—" She looked over at the woman running the slide-projector and nodded. "You will see from our chart that the last two years have shown a tremendous increase in energy voids, known as burps, running along the ley lines of Great Britain…"

:

Hermione sat on a low couch in an anteroom of the conference center and sipped soda water. Viktor and Quint stood behind her like an honor guard.

It was done. Her part was over. Normally, her job would entail staying for the rest of the conference and listening to everyone else's presentations, but she had changed her plans. She would be escorting Alonso's body home to his wife that evening. Undersecretary Pathfounder, the Chief Delegate for Great Britain, and the head of the Department of Magical Cooperation, had given someone else the duty of taking notes and compiling a report on whatever else was discussed at the conference. They would have the power to vote as well, and Hermione found she couldn't be arsed enough to care if they voted themselves out of the treaty.

All that was left to deal with was the Heads of Department that had requested a meeting. There were so many of them, she was down to limiting them to fifteen minutes. The first had been Chilikov from Bulgaria. He had taken two minutes to express his sadness, and seven minutes to tell her how under-qualified she was for the job compared to Alonso. He'd used the rest of his time to fully agree with the plan she'd presented to organize a multi-national committee to track the events, as she'd started calling them in her head. She'd put forth a version of Philips' idea almost defiantly at the end of her speech. She'd credited her predecessor but her faith in the plan came from Alonso's belief in it.

Viktor had entered with Chilikov, and let him leave without him, preferring to stay by her side. This made things a bit difficult, since Viktor still didn't know the whole story.

The door opened and the Brazilian delegate came in. He was of average height and build, but projected an air of a man much larger. She rose. "Mr. Abraão, it is an honor."

"Likewise, young lady. Although a sadder one. I am much pained by the loss of my good friend."

"As am I."

"Such a strange thing to have an exciting conversation with a man before you go to sleep, and then to wake up and find you cannot ever continue it."

"I feel the exact same way," she avowed. "I depended on him far more than I could convey with words."

"Yes. He told me as much." They sat down, and he settled his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. "He asked me many questions last night, and I did not understand until your report why. An increase in these burps, as you call them in English, is significant. Sadly, I could not tell him any more than he already knew. We have stories, the same as you. The end of things, a beginning of something. It is obvious that something is happening, and so far it is happening only in your hemisphere. We have no reports of any increase in activity at all down in our corner of the world. I took the trouble to ask my colleagues in Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, and Peru. They were all surprised by your findings. However, Miguel Bak, the Delegate from Guatemala, was not. He said they had seen a fifteen percent increase over last two years."

He raised his dark, empty hands. "I am no help, but I would like to be. My people are willing to cooperate in your multinational venture. We do not know what this means, but it is obvious it meant something to my friend, and I would honor his memory by taking part."

"Thank you, Mr. Abraão. That means a lot to us. Your office will be hearing from mine soon." He stood up to take his leave, and she did as well. "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"What time did you speak with Alonso?"

The man's face fell, and he heaved a sigh. "It was after the reception had started to wind down. I would say midnight? About that? My sense of time is off. The shifting time zones play games with my head."

"I understand. One more question. How did he seem to you when you spoke with him?"

Abraão's eyes narrowed. "I thought he fell into the pool after too much drink."

"Did he seem drunk to you at midnight?"

Abraão shook his head. "No." He looked past her at the two men behind her and then back to her. "No. He didn't seem like he'd been drinking at all. He just seemed… worried."

"Do you know who he had been speaking with before you? After?"

"He had been speaking with Madam Zhou, the Chinese Delegate. I saw him speaking with Osterhoudt as I was heading off to find my bed. That is all I can tell you. As for Madam Zhou, I believe she is outside waiting to speak with you now."

Hermione gave him a tight smile. "Then I shouldn't keep her waiting. She is a busy woman, as you are a busy man. Again, I am honored to meet you."

"As am I, Miss Granger." He nodded, giving her a searching look and headed towards the door.

She blew out a breath and sat down.

"You were great," Quint said over her shoulder.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Hermione, what is going on?"

She turned to Viktor. "I can't explain everything yet. I'm sorry."

He nodded and reached forward to squeeze her shoulder. "I vill vait then."

The door opened again, and she rose to greet Madam Zhou.

The woman—still strikingly beautiful in her seventies —came in wearing a crisp set of robes and a palpable air of sadness. She nodded to the two men behind Hermione and then stretched out her hand. Hermione reached out to shake it, but the older woman took it in both of hers and patted it.

"I am very sorry for your loss," the woman said.

Hermione was immediately disarmed by her sincerity and had to struggle with her tears. "Thank you."

"I fear it is but the first of many," the woman said with a deep sadness in her voice.

Hermione pulled her hand back. "What do you mean?"

The woman backed away and turned to the couch behind her. "May I?"

"Of course! My apologies. Please."

They sat and the older woman gestured at Viktor and Quint. "You trust these men?"

Hermione tilted her head. "With my life."

"Even the Bulgarian?"

Hermione looked behind her to see Viktor's brows beetling. "Especially him."

Madam Zhou nodded. "This is good. You protect yourself. Alonso should have as well."

"You don't think he fell into the pool?" Hermione asked in a neutral voice.

"Do you?"

Hermione took several breaths before she answered. "I have reason to believe otherwise."

"Ah. Then the deaths have already begun. It is the same in my country."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't understand as much as you may think I do."

Zhou shook her head slowly. "I do not understand as much as you need to, but I will share what I have. I will tell you what I told Alonso." The older woman sighed. "I danced with words last night, trying to get him to tell me what was on his mind. All he would say is, 'I will speak more tomorrow.' For him there was no tomorrow. I do not have the patience to dance with words with you. I understand Governments like their secrets. But you let the biggest secret out today, so let us speak plainly. We have also experienced an increase in dagé. It started two years ago. We did not become aware of it until nine months later, because there was a powerful witch who was tampering with our data."

Hermione straightened up. "Who? Did you catch them?"

"She has been dealt with. Our way is swift and permanent. We do not have your Azkaban. Sadly, she was but the first. There have been two more people who attempted to profit from this information for personal gain. The increase in dagé always creates a frenzy that is proportional to their frequency."

"Why? What are they? Alonso was our fourth fatality. What is everyone after?"

Zhou spread her hands. "What does everyone dream of, Miss Granger? Wealth. Power. Immortality. A chance to dictate the future… or change the past. Now that you have let the truth out, there will be more of them. People crazed by a thousand lusts all wanting the same thing."

"What? What is it?"

Zhou looked her straight in the eye. "No one knows. An artifact. A portal. A chance to talk to the Creator. It could be any one of these things, or none of them."

Hermione wanted to collapse from her disappointment. Apparently, it showed on her face.

"The information has been eliminated, Miss Granger. Only remnants are kept and unless one knows where to look, one will never find them. My teacher before me spent her whole life searching for clues, and I continue her work. No one knows what is coming, but we know that what is coming has the power to either change the world… or end it."

"It's happened before," Hermione stated in a flat voice.

"Three times that we have found evidence for, and each time the records of it were destroyed. It is like throwing a stone into a still pool. All that remains are the ripples, and then eventually, only the memory of the ripples."

Hermione dragged at her hair, forgetting she was wearing it up. She grimaced. "So there is no way to find out what we are facing, but a handful of witches or wizards are willing to kill for it. This is madness."

"I fear the madness has only just begun," the other woman said. "We must form this committee you speak of. But it must be a committee of people dedicated to altruism. We must track these dagé. We must find out how to stop not only the madness, but possibly the end of all things. This much is known."

Hermione nodded her head. "Your office will be hearing from mine then."

"This makes me very happy. It has been a pleasure to speak with you, Miss Granger. I look forward to our continued cooperation."

Hermione stood up. "I look forward to asking you a million more questions."

Madam Zhou smiled. "That will be a great pleasure."

They shook hands and parted. When the door closed, Hermione turned and looked at the two men behind her. Viktor had a thoughtful expression, and Quint looked like he'd been punched in the gut.

"Hermione, vut haff you gotten yourself into now?"

She grimaced and shook her head. "Apparently the end of the world."

Quint shook himself like a dog coming out of the water. "That was a lot more than I was expecting," he said.

"Me too," Hermione added. "Look. No matter what happens, I need you two to help me make sure that this information gets back to Harry. Do you understand?"

Quint nodded immediately, but Viktor shook his head. "Vy Harry?"

She blinked. "Because… he's Harry. He's good at saving the world."

Viktor shook his head again. "Harry vas the chosen vun against Voldemort and his followers. He saved the world once already. No one ever gets to save it twice. I suspect there is a new chosen vun."

"Who?" she asked, stepping closer to him.

He looked at her with a sad expression. "You."

"Me? No. No way. That's not the way it works. Harry saves the world. Ron and I just help figure out how he can do it."

Viktor shrugged. "Okay. Vee tell Harry. But I am thinking it is not Harry that vill matter this time."

The three of them turned as the door opened again. A tiny little wizard with with long silver hair, and dove-grey robes that nearly matched, came in leaning on a hawthorn cane. "Miss Granger?"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if I might take up a moment of your time."

"Certainly, Mr.…?"

"Osterhoudt. Abel Osterhoudt. I was an old friend of Alonso Behari."

"Oh, yes. He spoke of you! I'd be honored to speak with—"

A thunderous explosion cut off Hermione's words and threw her violently to the floor. She felt a heavy weight land on her and then the world spun away.


:

Poor Alonso. I should probably stop making the people I plan to kill off so likable, but then no one would care, would they?