A/N: If you liked this chapter (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! You can find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff or Facebook at Shan Crochetaway. My only beta is Grammarly; all other mistakes are mine.
April 2003
Ministry of Defense Compound
Portland Bill, UK
Dudley Dursley didn't get concerned about a lot of things. He mostly lived his life with the philosophy that most things in life would take care of themselves. That was before though. Before the people like Harry were revealed to good, normal people. Now, Dudley was concerned about two things, well three. The first was the group of magic people he was tracking in the Forest of Dean. He knew they were there, far too many scouts were disappearing for their not to be a group of magical beings to be there. Second, was Harry. He knew Rho knew who Harry was to Dudley, but he was desperate for his superiors to not find out. He didn't think it would be a problem but he was terrified that it would be. That he might even be discharged from the military. And that would not be acceptable to him. The third thing he was concerned about was Rho and how she knew Harry. It was also the thing he didn't want to think about. Harry had basically implied that Rho was a witch, but that couldn't be true, could it?
Dudley shook his head and focused back on the scouting reports and maps in front of him. He'd thought he had the camp pinned down in the Forest of Dean, but he couldn't be entirely sure and he didn't know why he had the feeling, but it felt as though things were escalating and that perhaps Dudley's time was running out. That worried him more than anything. He didn't know what was coming, but it seemed pretty clear to him that something was coming.
"Major Dursley, sir," his lieutenant saluted him and then stood at attention. Dudley looked up from the plans in front of him.
"Lieutenant Danvers, at ease," Dudley commanded. "Report."
"Yes, sir. A pair of junior scouts came back with a somewhat confusing story, sir. I can't quite make heads or tails of i—"
"Try," Dudley interrupted with a frown.
"They seem to have encountered a… wizard, is that what we're calling the men?" Dudley nodded and Danvers continued, "right, they encountered a wizard. Both remember passing out on more than one occasion. And—"
"Back up, where were they?"
"Forest of Dean, sir. Quadrant E, not quite where we expect the camp is, but near enough." Dudley waved to indicate Danvers should continue speaking. "They crept into a small clearing where there was a tent and a, uh, wizard standing. The wizard went into the tent, and the men ordered him out. Then they both passed out."
Dudley raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"They woke up, about twenty yards into the forest. They stumbled onto the clearing and the tent and the, uh, wizard again. Then they passed out again."
This time Dudley raised both eyebrows.
"They woke up again, about twenty yards into the forest from the clearing," Danvers continued. "It happened again. The fourth time they woke up, they made it to the clearing and the tent was gone."
Dudley frowned. "It seems like the wizards were taunting them. But then they let them go? Why?"
"I'm not sure, sir," Danvers replied.
"That's it?" Dudley asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you for telling me. You may go." Dudley frowned as Danvers left his office. He'd asked his men to tell him of anything unusual, and that was unusual enough that it worried Dudley. Were the wizards fucking with his scouts? Or was there something else going on?
A sickening thought came to Dudley then: did the wizards figure out a way to reinstate the Muggle-Repelling Charms?
April 2003
Forest of Dean
Death Eater Encampment
"Harder, Finn," Hermione gasped as Rowle drove into her from below. Her back was to his chest, and her legs were straddled over his knees, his hands wrapped around her torso tightly. She had her own hands in his hair behind her. She couldn't move much in this position, but it was devastatingly hot to be spread over his lap like this.
"Fuck, little witch," Rowle growled into her shoulder, biting down during a particularly hard thrust.
"Finn," Hermione whined, she desperately wanted to reach a hand down to rub her clit. She was so fucking close, her skin broke out in gooseflesh as a coil of desire wrapped tighter and tighter inside her. Rowle had forbidden her from touching herself earlier though, he'd stuck her hands in his hair and told her if they moved from his head, he was going to tie her up and spank her.
While that did sound like fun, Hermione was desperate to come and didn't want that delayed so that Rowle could punish her.
"You're waiting for me, remember, little witch?" Rowle whispered into her ear. "You come when I come." He bit her earlobe and Hermione nodded, remembering their agreement. She just wasn't used to this, Rowle usually let her come at least twice. This was an exercise in Hermione's patience. She bit her lip and began thinking about variables in the Muggle-Repelling Charm she'd recreated to see if she could get one to stick permanently the first time.
Rowle must have noticed she wasn't paying attention because he bit her shoulder again, harder this time as he drove his hips quickly into her. "Stay with me, little witch, I'm getting there."
"Finn, please," Hermione said again.
"Tell me what you need?" Rowle asked as he thumbed one of her nipples.
"I need to come, please let me come," Hermione begged. "I'd do anything if I could just come!"
"Anything?" Rowle asked with a hint of humor in his voice.
"Anything," Hermione nodded. "Please."
"I'm going to hold you to that," Rowle said as he finally snaked a hand down to her clit and began teasing her there. First with just a small tap when he slid his cock out each time, then with a rub along the left side. Hermione tensed and then shattered around him. Her groan was loud and she would have collapsed had his strong arms not been holding her upright. Rowle came with her, his seed flooding her as his hips jerked. Then they both collapsed forward onto their bed.
"So glad, Dolohov finally gave us our own tent," Hermione grinned to Rowle. They had been unable to do much experimenting sharing with Gibbon and Yaxley.
"Merlin, witch. I give you an orgasm and not a minute later you're talking about another wizard. What am I going to have to do to you to get that brain of yours to shut off?"
Hermione laughed and kissed his chest as he cuddled her close. "Eh, probably won't ever be able to." She shrugged and missed the glint in Rowle's eyes at that challenge.
"I do think I may have figured out a variation on the Muggle-Repelling Charms to make it permanent," Hermione said.
"Just now, during sex?" Rowle asked incredulously.
"Don't be upset, Finn. I can't help it when I get my ideas," Hermione said as she sat up and began to get dressed. "Just be glad that I do get them." She tossed a wink at him as she put the malachite necklace over her head and sauntered out of the tent. She had some testing to do. Well, Dolohov had some testing to do. The less Hermione knew about how Dolohov was testing the charms, the better in her opinion.
Dolohov's tent was basically next door to her and Rowle's and Hermione was thankful that it wasn't Silencing Charms that had fallen or everyone would know what she and Rowle had been up to. She walked into Dolohov's tent to find both Yaxley and Gibbon in there as well.
"Done fucking Thor?" Gibbon asked. Hermione rolled her eyes at his sniping and ignored him as she'd taken to doing. He was only spoiling for a fight and Hermione was in a good mood.
"Och, don't be so hard on her," Yaxley said. "She looks good coming from a fresh fuck."
"Can you even tell?" Hermione asked. Once more, startled by the deep voice that emanated from her mouth when wearing the necklace. She really hated how she sounded wearing that thing.
"I knew it!" Yaxley exclaimed. "Pay up Antonin, Connor."
"Merlin, save me from idiotic wizards," Hermione said under her breath as both Dolohov and Gibbon handed a Galleon to Yaxley. She'd walked right into it, so it shouldn't have surprised her.
Rowle joined them a moment later, scowling at Hermione in her disguise.
"I have an idea," Hermione announced. "About the Muggle-Repelling Charms and a way to make them more permanent and to work on the first time."
"Do tell," Gibbon said with a small yawn.
Hermione ignored him once more. She was exercising her patience left and right today. "So Malfoy put rune stones into the ley line to corrupt the line and the magic that was based on it. What if we did the same to the new ley line. But instead of Hagalaz, Nauthiz, and Thurisaz, we use Eihwaz—"
"Strength and reliability," Rowle said. Hermione nodded.
"Kenaz," Hermione said.
"For knowledge?" Rowle asked, furrowing his brow as if he wasn't sure.
"And technical ability. And Algiz." Hermione said.
"Protection?" Rowle asked again.
"To protect the ley line actually. So nobody else can fuck with it."
"That's brilliant. But will it work?" Dolohov asked.
Hermione shrugged. "No idea, I can run some Arithmetic probabilities and see what they come up with, but I think something has to be done to the ley line itself to prevent someone else from doing this again."
"Alright, get working on that," Dolohov said. "I've been ruminating on where we think other wizarding enclaves are and how we can draw them out."
"Perhaps the old villages?" Gibbon suggested.
Hermione had never heard of the old villages. Just as she was about to ask, Rowle filled her in.
"The old villages are traditional wizarding villages, they fell out of common practice in the early 1900s when there was a fairly large wizarding migration to the major towns and London itself."
"If they fell out of use, why do you think there would be people in them now?" Hermione asked.
"We don't know, obviously," Gibbon said coldly. Hermione held her tongue, but she practically bit through it in her attempt to not say something nasty. "But we have to look somewhere. I can't believe the Muggles would be so capable of killing wizards that we're the only ones left."
"Where's the nearest one?" Yaxley asked. "We should check them one at a time, and perhaps, we," he indicated the four wizards in the tent, "aren't the people who should go looking."
"And why not?" Gibbon asked angrily.
"Death Eaters," Rowle replied. "We're all Death Eaters, and escaped convicts. Perhaps, we should form a delegation of those who aren't hardened criminals."
"Can we trust them?" Gibbon sneered.
"We're going to have to," Dolohov said closing the discussion.
"We have another issue," Hermione said rubbing the back of her neck. She grimaced and pointed her wand at the tent flap, barring entry and then took off the malachite necklace. She frowned at it as it dangled from her hands.
"What issue, Granger?" Dolohov asked.
"We need to find a way to counteract the technology the Muggles have created to find and track us. We know they can do it, it's not an accident that 'scouts' keep getting sent in here. We need to know what they have and how it works in order for us to have a chance to thwart it."
"Merlin, I hadn't even thought of that," Rowle murmured. He slipped his hands around Hermione's waist, holding her to him. He hated her 'Herman' persona as much as Hermione did and never touched her when she was disguised. But the moment she took the necklace off, he had his hands on her in some capacity. Gibbon scowled, but Hermione ignored it. Yaxley wiggled his eyebrows at her. She ignored him too.
"What do you suggest?" Dolohov asked with a sigh.
Hermione shrugged. "I guess we could kidnap a scout? Pump him for information. Hope he has one of those ray-gun thing-a-ma-bob's and perhaps reverse engineer it. Although I'm not sure we have the equipment for that."
"Alright, kidnapping scouts, that's easily done," Dolohov said. Hermione felt uncomfortable at the casual way he announced that. "Although we'll need to find someplace secure to keep the scouts. Can't have them in camp or we'll cause a riot."
"Where do you go now when you're testing the Muggle-Repelling Charms?" Hermione asked. "That might work."
"I don't think so," Dolohov shook his head. "It's the same place we lure the scouts from. We'll find something."
"Right, well, make sure to let me know when you have someone so I can help interrogate," Hermione said.
Gibbon snorted and finally, Hermione found she couldn't keep her mouth shut.
"Problem, Gibbon?" she asked snottily.
"Interrogate Muggles? You? You wouldn't know how to interrogate a Muggle if Hogwarts offered classes on it."
"Merlin, Gibbon! Do you know anything about Muggle sciences?" Hermione asked. When Gibbon didn't respond, just continued to glare at her, Hermione went on. "Of fucking course, you don't. Do any of you?" No response. "I do! I know about Muggle sciences and I can even tell you a bit about how I suspect those ray-gun things work! Don't you want an end to this? Don't you want the world to go back to the way it was?"
"I don't," Rowle said.
"Same," Gibbon sneered.
"We were in Azkaban, love," Yaxley reminded her.
"Fine! How about before you all were in Azkaban? Wouldn't you like to go back to that world? That's what I'm trying to make happen."
"Voldemort," Gibbon coughed.
Hermione growled in frustration. "Don't you fucking get it, Gibbon? We haven't found any witches. Have hardly found any wizards, except one or two hiding out. What we have found is a whole Muggle army after our hides. We need to fix this because it doesn't appear that anyone else is even bothering! And if they aren't, then this will be our life. Hunted by Muggles. I refuse to live like this anymore. So you'll fucking tell me when you get a damned Muggle in captivity so I can question him! Got it?" Hermione was panting by the end of that tirade and Rowle had stepped back from her. She could feel her hair rising around her as her magic coursed through her body. It always acted like that when she was really angry.
"Good reasons, Granger," Dolohov said diplomatically. Yaxley snorted and hid a smile. Gibbon frowned and walked out of the tent, tearing through the wards Hermione had put up. She flipped the necklace over her head, becoming Herman once more.
"I've got laundry to do," she said as she too stalked out of the tent to find Nott and Flint.
Hermione had come to term her laundry time as her thinking time. Nott and Flint were often silent and their silence allowed Hermione to spend her time thinking through things. She began running arithmetic equations on the likelihood of success by using rune stones with the ley line, but she really needed quill and parchment for that. Instead, she thought about how the ray-guns would work. They dampened magical ability when activated. The group hadn't held on to one for long. Dolohov thought they were too dangerous to bring into the camp, but it also meant Hermione didn't know how long the effects lasted. Were they constant? Was there a trigger? She didn't know.
What could magic be made of that the Muggles could detect? Photons? Magic did seem to live on the light spectrum on some sense. Or radiation? It wouldn't be unheard of if magic was some sort of radiation. Maybe radiation that Muggles couldn't detect? Until now. It also begged the question of just who was working with the Muggles. Hermione had to believe that there was a wizard who was helping the Muggles. But why? And who?
She had more questions than answers. A state Hermione had always found frustrating. She groaned allowed as she hung her portion of the laundry on the line.
"Knut for your thoughts?" Nott asked from right behind her. Hermione gasped and whirled around.
"Startled me, Nott," Hermione said. She just barely kept her grimace from showing at the sound of her deep voice.
Nott shrugged. He pointed his wand at the laundry and cast a drying charm. Hermione turned and did the same, acutely aware of Nott at her back.
"Offer stands," Nott grunted.
"Ah, it's nothing," Hermione said.
"Hmm," Nott didn't say anything else and Hermione wondered if he knew who she really was. She'd attended school with Nott after all. She'd had several classes with him over the years. She shook her head. It wasn't something she could think about now. If Nott knew he wasn't telling anyone and that was good enough for Hermione.
April 2003
Forest of Dean
Six Miles from Death Eater Encampment
"Here?" Hermione said, looking warily at the cave in front of her. It was dark and Hermione had never liked enclosed spaces. She shuddered and didn't care that in her Herman disguise she looked like a wimp.
"Yes," Dolohov replied. He guided her forward with a hand at the small of her back. "Don't take off your necklace," he reminded her.
"Got it," Hermione grumbled. It was just her and Dolohov, and while a few months ago that would have scared Hermione shitless, now she was used to the gruff Russian. He was a competent leader and Hermione found she rather liked him. Something she hadn't thought possible a few months ago. A few months ago you wouldn't be fucking Finn either, a voice in her brain helpfully provided. Hermione couldn't deny the truth of it. She tried not to think of her feelings for Rowle, but it was clear that she felt quite deeply for him, however much she tried to hide it. She could only hope that he felt the same. She had no intention of throwing herself at him once this whole thing was over. There was probably a bevy of other witches who would kill to get someone like Rowle in bed.
"Focus," Dolohov said as he lifted the enchantments on the front of the cave and Hermione found herself in a well-lit cave with three cells built along the wall. Each cell held a Muggle dressed in army fatigues. The first one stood—obviously the leader of their scouting group—and glared at her and Dolohov.
"What do you want?" his voice didn't shake and for that, Hermione had to commend him. He directed his question to Dolohov behind her. Even as a man, Hermione was overlooked.
"We just want some answers," Hermione said evenly.
"We're not talking," he insisted, still talking to Dolohov.
"Hey, army-man, I'm the one you're talking to. He's just the help," Hermione said. She knew she had to get him to respect her or she'd never get any answers. "Now, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. It's your choice, but we'll get answers one way or another." She felt a bit like a bad movie villain, but she wanted to be perfectly clear about their intentions. She didn't actually plan on hurting them or at least casting too dark of hexes, but if they were going to be stubborn, well a Tickling Jinx, when applied for more than twenty minutes, became very uncomfortable.
"I'm not afraid of you, boy," the man scoffed.
Hermione grinned wickedly. "It's not me you should be afraid of, but him." She pointed over her shoulder at Dolohov who was leaning against the cave wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "I told you. He's the help. I'm the one with the questions."
The man narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "I'm not answering your questions."
"We'll start easy," Hermione said. "I don't even care what your name is, where you're from, or any of that. But rest assured, that if I wanted that information so that I could visit your home with your wife and children, I could get it." She was slightly gratified to see that the man gulped heavily. She wasn't quite sure where she was going with this, but she had a hunch. "All I want to know is who your boss is. One name. That's it. And then we'll erase this memory from your mind and let you go."
Dolohov coughed behind her, but Hermione ignored him. She assumed that he was not going to agree to an Obliviate, but what the prisoners thought didn't actually matter to Hermione.
"One name?" the man in the second cell asked.
Hermione smiled warmly at him. "One name. That's all I need." For now, she thought.
"Dursley. Major Dudley Dursley is our commander," the man in the second cell blurted out.
"Jenkins!" the man in the first cell scolded and Hermione smiled.
She knew exactly who Dudley Dursley was. The question was, did any of these men know who he was in relation to the wizarding world? Somehow she wasn't as shocked as she should have been. Harry had always attracted the most trouble. It made some sort of poetic sense to her that it would be his cousin who was hunting wizards down.
"Any other names you feel like sharing?" Hermione asked. She assumed it would be a long shot, but the man in the third cell spoke up.
"Rho. It's Dursley's girlfriend and she works in the lab. There's something… off about her."
"Cartwright!" the man in the first cell shouted. "You will tell them no more! I'll have you both court marshaled for this."
"You won't remember it, Cornings," Jenkins said. "He said they'd erase our memory. You won't remember any of this."
Hermione's lips twitched. It seemed her prisoners were in a talkative mood. "What can you tell me about these?" she held up one of the ray-guns and all three of the men refused to answer.
"We're not giving you a way to stop us," Cornings snapped. "Names were bad enough. No more." He glared at his two companions and Hermione shrugged. She had enough.
"Let's go," she told Dolohov and the two of them walked out of the cave.
"Do you know this Dursley?" Dolohov asked.
"You aren't going to believe it," Hermione said. Dolohov reached an arm out to stop her and Hermione turned to face him.
"Try me."
"Dudley Dursley is Harry Potter's cousin. Harry grew up with Dudley, it's who he lived with after his parents were killed. I wish I knew where Harry was…" she trailed off.
"What do you mean?" Dolohov asked.
"Never mind." Hermione shook her head. She wasn't going to discuss Harry and Ron with Dolohov or anyone in the Death Eater encampment. "The good thing is we have a name now. I wish I knew more about Dudley, but Harry hardly ever talked about him. Let's get back to camp, I want to finish the rune stones and get them laid today."
Dolohov let her pull away and they made their way back to camp in silence. Hermione was pondering the news they had just learned and trying to figure out what it meant for them. Hopefully, this was the turning point they needed. As soon as the Muggle-Repelling Charms started working again, she was going to start reverse-engineering the ray-guns they had confiscated from the scouts.
May 2003
Ministry of Defense Compound
Portland Bill, UK
Harry rose to consciousness slowly.
"Harry, Harry," someone was saying over and over again. He blinked his eyes, trying to focus on the individual leaning over him. He sighed when he realized it was Dudley.
Dudley. The cousin he could have been kinder to. The cousin who was currently keeping him sedated and using his magic to fuel some sort of devices that Harry didn't quite understand. Harry wasn't naïve enough to think that Dudley was behind it all. He was just a cog in the machine. But a powerful cog. One using his connections to Harry to better himself. Harry wasn't stupid. He knew how the world worked, the Muggle and Wizarding worlds weren't all that different when power was at stake.
"D-Dudley," he sighed. His throat was parched and he coughed, as he sat up. Dudley got him a glass of water, helping Harry sip it.
Harry was too tired, too disoriented to be shocked. Although, some small part of him recognized that this was the kindest Dudley had probably ever been to him. He wished he'd tried to reconnect with Dudley after the war. If Harry had been a better person, he would have. But he'd been all too happy to leave the Muggle world and his Muggle relations behind him. He'd fully embraced the wizarding world and had been happy with it. Perhaps, if he had paid more attention to Dudley, he wouldn't be where he was now.
Or, maybe he'd be dead like Ron was. Harry felt himself come fully awake at that thought.
"What do you want, Dudley?"
"What do you know of the Forest of Dean?" Dudley asked.
Harry sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn't thought of the Forest of Dean since the Horcrux hunt with Hermione and Ron.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"You know something," Dudley accused. "Tell me what you know."
"All I know is that some friends and I went camping the Forest of Dean several years back. During the war."
Dudley looked confused at the mention of a war and Harry shook his head. "Doesn't matter."
"So none of your friends would be hiding in it now?" Dudley asked. The skepticism was heavy in his voice and Harry wondered what was going on. Would Dudley answer his questions if he asked?
"You killed my friend, remember?" Harry reminded him. "I don't know of anyone who would be hiding in the Forest of Dean." Even if he did think Hermione might be hiding there, he wouldn't give her up to Dudley.
Dudley growled and kicked the table on wheels next to Harry's bed, causing it to crash over onto its side. He left the room in a huff, not putting Harry back under sedation. Harry couldn't believe his luck. He was still hooked up to all manner of machines and after months of lying in a bed, Harry had no doubt it would be difficult for him to try and walk, but maybe he wouldn't have to do the walking.
The machine used to drain his magic, shut off every evening around seven and turned back on every morning at seven. Giving him a full twelve hours each day to regenerate his magic. If he could manage to wake up before the tech came in to turn it back on in the morning, he might be able to have enough magic at his disposal to do something with it. He didn't have a wand, but he had always been half-decent at wandless magic. If he was desperate enough, he thought it might work. The harder part would be staying awake and alert throughout the night without making it seem like he was. He couldn't afford to get worked up, or he'd set off all sorts of alarm bells.
Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was half past six in the evening. A tech would be in soon to shut off the magic draining machine. Harry needed to appear to be sedated by the time that tech arrived or he'd be sedated immediately and his chance would be gone.
He was almost asleep when the tech came in to shut off the machine. The tech didn't say anything, and was only in the room moments before leaving, shutting off the lights as he did so. Harry let out a low breath. Now to wait until morning.
May 2003
Ministry of Defense Compound
Portland Bill, UK
The following morning, the tech who entered Harry's room seemed sleepy and not quite there. Even better, Harry thought. The moment the tech leaned over Harry to check his vitals, Harry grasped his arm tightly.
"Imperius," Harry hissed. The tech stiffened, a blank look crossing his face. "You will leave work. Tell them you don't feel well. Go to where they are looking for wizards in the Forest of Dean. Ask for Hermione Granger. Tell her Harry sent you. Tell her where I am and how to get in. Help her in any way she needs."
The tech nodded and turned to go.
"Finish in here first," Harry said. He didn't want to be sedated and his heart was racing at the huge amount of magic he'd just used. He couldn't risk another tech deciding it was strange and forcing a drug into his IV.
The tech took Harry's vitals, recording them in the chart that hung at the end of Harry's bed, and then turned on the machine, draining Harry of his remaining magic. It wouldn't have mattered if he'd been sedated. The moment the machine turned on, Harry passed out. His last thought was hoping that Hermione would receive the message.
