AN: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed! I read them all, but have little time to do more than that, my apologies. Consider yourselves hugged. And extra hugs to Hebe for making my crazy adventure tale sound less schizophrenic.
Hermione headed down to the Ministry gymnasium with her bag. Ten minutes later, she was standing by the mats, tying her hair up with a scrunchie. She did a few stretches while she waited. The door opened and Ron and Harry came in lugging their own gym bags. Quint followed them, looking sheepish.
"Give us a minute," Harry called.
"Him too?" she asked, gesturing at the fourth wheel.
"Do you mind? He said he wanted to work out."
She grinned like a feral cat. "Not at all."
She finished stretching and then broke into a loose jog around the perimeter as the boys changed into the same style of grey t-shirt and loose trousers that she wore. By the time they came out, she was taping her hands up. She dipped up a handful of chalk dust and smeared it on her hands and arms.
"No spells," she said.
Ron and Harry exchanged a worried look.
"Sounds good," said Quint. "What's on the menu?"
"Basically," said Harry. "We beat each other to a pulp and whoever is still standing heals the others."
"Sounds fun," he said. "You ready?" He looked at Hermione, clearly unsure of how to take her expression.
"Quint, I think Hermione might have had a bad day. Perhaps—"
"Nah, she's already caught me off guard once. I can handle—"
Hermione punched him in the throat and followed it with a rounder to his temple. He went down like a sack of bricks. She turned on Ron who made a squeaky noise.
Harry came at her with a high kick to the head. She blocked it with a raised arm, but Ron kicked her legs out from under her. She rolled to the side as Quint staggered to his feet. She sprang back up and threw another punch at his head, but he caught her fist in his hand.
"Nuh uh. Not again, little lady." He ducked under her arm and rolled her over his back. She landed with a thud and looked up to see Ron grab him and flip him over his shoulder just before Harry landed a blow on Ron's head. After that it was a free-for-all.
By the end, Ron was rolling on the ground grabbing his bleeding nose and Quint was trying to groan his nutsack back into shape. Hermione and Harry were still going at each other throwing and blocking as fast as humanly possible. Harry ducked, and his fist came up into her stomach. She went down in a ball of pain and fury. She never won.
He collapsed down next to her and pulled his wand from the sheath on his thigh. After a few flicks, they were all lying flat and staring up at the ceiling, trying to catch their breath.
"You want to tell us what the hell that was about?" Harry gasped.
"Do I really have to explain?" she said, prodding at her belly. "That's gonna leave a mark."
"No," Ron puffed. "You just need to be specific."
"Not to me," Quint said, rolling over with a groan and crawling toward the bottled water lined up next to the mat. "I knew I had it coming."
"It can't be just that," Harry said. "You know we sent him after you because we were worried."
"I'm aggravated that we've gotten nowhere on the four murders in my department. And yes, I am still angry with the both of you over that. Sending him after me is one thing. Sending him to pretend to be interested? That was low, even for you two fuckwits."
Ron lifted a tired hand and waved it in the air. "That was my idea. You seemed lonely, and I'd seen him checking out your arse."
"Oi!" Quint yelled. "Leave a man a little dignity!" He crawled back towards Hermione and offered her a bottle. "Here."
"Thank you."
"Thank me by going out with me this weekend," he said. "I might even be able to feel my bits again by then."
"I can't. My dance card is full. I have a date with Caleb on Friday and dinner with Viktor on Saturday. Sunday, I think I'm heading to Iran."
Harry stretched toward the water bottles. "Iran? What's in Iran?" He grabbed one and lobbed it at Ron before taking another for himself.
"Snape said that I had a better chance if looked there for answers."
"Snape?" Ron sat up. "What's he got to do with anything?"
"Not a whole lot, but he's been helpful when I needed it."
The four of them looked up as the door to the gym squeaked open. Alsea came in, looking worried. Hermione flipped over onto her hands and knees to stand up.
"Miss Granger? I tried Flooing you at home and then remembered it was your night at the gym." She gave the group of them a wary look. Ron's nose wasn't bleeding anymore, but all of them were still wearing his blood.
"What is it?"
"It's Caleb. He didn't turn in his report on the burp he went to investigate, so I Flooed him at home. You know how he sometimes forgets."
"Go on," she said, her stomach knotting up under the bruise Harry gave her.
"I already informed Mr. Philips, but I wanted you to know as well. I think something's happened to him. He wasn't answering, and from what I could see through the fire, his home has been ransacked."
Hermione was sprinting out of the gym door before Harry and Ron had even made it off the mat.
:
Hermione carefully walked through the wreckage of Caleb Lloyt's house. She kept wanting to pick things up and set them to rights, but the Aurors with her had repeatedly told her not to touch anything.
Everything was smashed. She'd peeked in his bedroom, but there was nothing there to give her any sense of the person who slept there. Pictures that had been on the wall had been hexed to smoking ruin, drawers had been pulled out and their contents dumped. Even the mattress had been slashed and the stuffing had been pulled out. She wrapped her arms around herself and stepped back into the kitchen.
Ron came up and dropped a warm hand on her shoulder. "There's no trace of blood. Keitch thinks he wasn't here when it happened."
"Yeah, but then where was he? And where is he now?"
"That we don't know, but we've people out checking all of his known acquaintances and hang outs." He pulled her into a hug. "Come on." He led her over towards the fireplace. "You two had something starting, right? Let's see if he didn't think to run to you."
She looked up at him with a start. "Do you think?"
"Why not? I would have."
They made their way past Harry, who gave them a nod, and Quint, who looked at her with sympathy, before making their way to her flat.
It was empty when they got there. Ron made a careful search but nothing had been disturbed. In the end, he headed off to the shower, while she grabbed fresh sheets for the spare room. He'd decided to spend the night on the off-chance Caleb showed up and was hurt.
Hermione had just finished changing for bed when she heard the water shut off, followed by Ron's shout. She raced down the hall and threw open the bathroom door just as Ron was tucking the flap of towel around the edge on his waist. He pointed, and she turned her head.
Words were written in the steam on the mirror. She closed the door to keep the steam in and leaned in to read them.
Granger, Don't trust Osterhoudt. Chronominium. —Caleb
"Is that his handwriting?" Ron asked.
"Hard to tell when you write with a finger," she replied.
"What's Chronominium?"
"I have no idea. It sounds like some sort of element, but it's nothing I've ever heard of."
"I'm calling Harry."
:
Hermione sat at her kitchen table staring at all the empty teacups. It seemed like the entire MLE had trooped through her small house in the last two hours while she'd done nothing but pour tea. She heard the Floo activate one last time and then there was no one left but Harry and Ron.
"Well, it definitely was Caleb Lloyt who wrote on the mirror, so we know he was alive and in your flat at some point," Harry said as he sat down across from her. "Keitch thinks he wrote it hours ago, knowing it would show when you showered."
Ron gathered two fistfuls of teacups by their handles and took them to the sink.
"Do you have any idea why Caleb wouldn't trust Osterhoudt?"
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. I'm so sick with worry and so tired I can't think."
"Did they know each other before, perhaps?" asked Ron.
"Not that I know of. I don't recall them acting unfriendly—wait…"
"What?"
"Now that I think of it, I don't remember them interacting at all. I'm not sure they were ever in my office at the same time."
"Perhaps they didn't know they were both in the same area until today?"
"No, Caleb had heard me talk about Osterhoudt often enough this last week. But I can't say that Osterhoudt knew Caleb worked there." She frowned, scratching at her head. "Ron, when you did that background check on Osterhoudt, did you find out what department he worked in when he worked for our Ministry?"
"He was an Unspeakable. I can only assume it was the Time Chamber."
Hermione sat up. "That would be it! Caleb worked in the Time Chamber as well! Before he came over to Measurements." She grimaced and looked at the other two. "Apparently their department was shut down after we trashed the place.
"That sort of odd, isn't it?" Harry asked. "Why would they shut down an entire department because we smashed up some equipment?"
"Perhaps because we smashed up all their equipment," Ron replied. "Remember that glass jar with the Hummingbird in it?"
"Oh, yeah," said Harry. "It kept turning back into an egg, and hatching, over and over again."
Ron scrunched up his face. "A bit useless, actually, when you think about it."
Hermione stared down at the piece of parchment in front of her where she'd copied Caleb's message. "Chrono means time," she said. "Perhaps this Chronominium is some element related to time."
"Or a spell," said Harry.
"Or a potion," added Ron.
Hermione looked up. "Or a potion ingredient?"
She stood. "We need answers, but the one expert sent to me is now on our suspect list, and the other we know of is either on the run or..." She let that thought fade away. "We need a new expert. How do we find out who else worked in that department when they're all Unspeakables?"
Harry stood up. "I'll ask Kingsley in the morning. The Minister of Magic has access to everything. If the department is defunct, then unless they went to work in another part, it's not Unspeakable anymore. Right?"
"Caleb said as much."
"Good. We'll start getting answers in the morning. Until then, I think we all need our sleep." Harry turned to Ron. "Did you want me to throw some spare clothes through the Floo?"
"Yeah, that would be good."
Harry kissed Hermione on the top of her head. She got up and headed off to brush her teeth, clutching the slip of parchment.
When she stepped back out of the bathroom, she headed back toward her sitting room.
"Wrong way," Ron said as he came toward her with an armful of his Auror's robes.
"I'll go to bed in a minute. I want to ask someone a question first."
He rolled his eyes and kissed her on top of her head. "By the way, I didn't get a chance to apologize for Quint. It was a boneheaded idea in hindsight."
"It really was. In fact, I think it ranks up there as the all-time worst."
"That good, eh?"
"That bad. In the future, allow me to worry about my own social life."
"Or lack thereof," he quipped heading off toward his bed. "By the way, you punching Quint in the throat was one of the best images ever. The look on his face was priceless."
"Thanks," she said.
She headed over toward her fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. "Hogwarts! Professor Snape's rooms!"
The fire blazed green as she knelt down by the hearth. "Professor?" she called out nervously, only now realizing the time. She bit her lip as she stared at the settee in the small sitting room before her. If her days as a student were anything to go by, Snape was a night owl. That didn't mean he would take kindly to Floo calls in the middle of the night.
She was about to close the connection when she heard footsteps. She saw boots and a swirl of black robes.
"Miss Granger?" He knelt down on one knee and his face appeared in the flames. "Do you realize the time?"
She winced. "My apologies. Something's come up and, well, I have a question to ask you."
He pulled back. "Come through."
She blinked. She hadn't been expecting that. She got off her knees and stepped into the flames.
Despite all the Aurors that had been in her house, she didn't remember until she was standing in Snape's sitting room that she was dressed for bed. She folded her arms across her chest and tilted her chin up, feeling defensive in her blue flannel pj's with white clouds all over them and her fuzzy slippers.
He, on the other hand, looked as austere as ever in his de rigueur black. He raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down. "Charming," he said.
"I wasn't expecting an invitation," she mumbled.
"Obviously."
She shifted from foot to foot.
"You had a question?"
She blinked. "Yes. I did, actually. Have you ever heard of Chronominium?"
"No. What is it?"
She sagged. For some reason, she had been sure he would know. He'd managed to help her twice when she was stuck, and she had been sure he could again.
"I was hoping you could tell me. I fear I've wasted your time. I'm sorry."
She turned back toward the fireplace.
"Wait."
She stopped.
"What is this about?"
She sighed and dragged a hand through her hair. "I still don't know," she said miserably.
"Can I offer you some wine? Or perhaps something stronger? You look like you need it."
"I shouldn't stay."
"I at least deserve an explanation."
She nodded her head. "Wine would be lovely."
He swept a hand toward the settee and headed over toward a table with several bottles on it. He poured two glasses of red wine and came back. He offered her a glass and sat down in the chair near the end of the settee. He arranged the folds of his robes with a few fastidious tugs of his hand and then looked over at her. She took a sip of her wine and started talking.
An hour later she was sitting cross-legged on the floor staring into the flames and hugging a small cushion to her stomach while Snape flipped through several books muttering to himself.
She wondered at just how much of the story she had dumped in his lap. Snape had never struck her as a good listener before. In fact, she's spent her childhood trying to get him to listen to anything she had to say. Nevertheless, he'd sat there, with his head tilted to the side throughout her entire diatribe as she explained exactly what had been going on since she'd first recieved a memo to see Kingsley about a promotion. He'd asked her leading questions now and again until he had the whole story.
That was when he'd jumped up and started looking through books.
She drained her glass of wine—she was determined to stick to two only—and set it on the table behind her.
Another book closed with a muffled thump and a muttered oath. He sighed heavily. "Miss Granger, come with me."
He turned away from his extensive shelves and swept towards the door. She scrambled up and hurried after him, out into his office, and then his classroom. He still had the hideous pictures illustrating Dark Curses on the walls.
"You know," she said, "you really need new illustrations. Those ones are bordering on camp."
He looked at them and then around at her. He stopped short, and she almost barreled into him. "This won't do," he said, waving a hand at her attire. "Anyone that sees us will think you'd been sleeping somewhere in the castle, and since I'd be with you, I fear the list of possible locations would be rather… short."
He flicked his wand several times and then spun away, heading out of the classroom.
She looked down at herself. "And this is so much better?" she yelled after him. She scurried to catch up, wearing a scaled down version of his own robes. She was going to give him what for, but became distracted by her own billow. "I say, this is good fun!"
He looked down at her and smirked.
A few minutes later, they were sneaking into the library.
"Why are we sneaking?" she whispered.
"You didn't think the students were the only ones terrified of Pince, did you?"
Soon enough, she was sitting at a table in the restricted section reading through a stack of tomes by wandlight. The déjà vu was most distracting.
"I feel like I'm supposed to be wearing Harry's invisibility cloak," she whispered.
"Spent a lot of time under Potter's cloak, did you?" His voice came from behind a shelf.
She smirked. "Too much."
"That's a surprise; I'd always thought you were humping Weasley."
Her eyes widened. "That's not what I meant! I was talking about breaking school rules! Harry and I never—Ugh. No."
"You always were so strange, Granger. Half the girls in the school at the time wanted Potter and would be offended at being accused of breaking school rules."
"Yes, well…" She fell silent. She really didn't have a retort for that. She went back to her reading, ignoring his dark chuckle.
More time passed before she heard a muffled expletive and then Snape's footsteps as he came out of whatever stack he'd burrowed into. He leaned over her and dropped the book he had on top of hers, setting one hand on the table to her left and curling the other around her right side to stab at the book. He smelled good. Really good. She'd never noticed that before.
She followed his long finger down to the passage.
"The sands, made up of pure Chronominium, are capable of transporting a person backwards along the stream. However, care must be taken in the design of a Time-Turner to allow for accuracy, and diligence must be applied in their usage. Overuse of a Time-turner can result in…"
"You found it!" she squealed far too loudly. She lowered her voice. "Now we just need to figure out what this has to do with anything."
She turned her head to find Snape's right next to hers. His eyes gleamed with something akin to lust, but he was looking at the page, not at her. She blinked. He turned to her and only then realized how close he was. He seemed to flow backwards away from her.
She scrambled for a quill and copied the relevant passage down, along with the title and author of the book. Snape was already snatching up other books and hastily putting them on shelves. Within moments, the library looked as if they had never been there.
They made short work of sneaking back down to the DADA classroom and back into his chambers.
"Thank you, Professor," she said, restraining her impulse to give him a victory hug. "This is the first real breakthrough I've had."
"It was my pleasure, Miss Granger," he said. His body language seemed stiff, counteracting the warmth in his voice. "I would like it if you could keep me apprised of further developments. It is a most intriguing situation. It seems certain now that whatever is going on, the people causing the most mischief believe it is, indeed, a time event."
"Now I just need to figure out exactly what sort of time event, and how to detect it," she replied. "I'm hoping I'll find out more in Iran when I get there on Sunday."
He gave her a small smile. "I wish you luck." She turned toward his fireplace but he stopped her. "Granger." She looked back over her shoulder. He scrunched up his face and then sighed. "I'm sorry about Mr. Lloyt. I'm sure he's fine. In fact, I would look in Llangynog. He had relatives there that could hide him forever if need be."
"Thank you, Severus," she said with a smile.
"I still think you're better off without the bastard," he snapped.
"I'm sure, wherever he is, he still thinks the same about you."
Snape's frown turned into a smirk, "Yes, but you're not with me, are you…"
She swallowed and turned away, grabbing up a handful of Floo powder. "No. I'm not." She smirked back at him over her shoulder. "Not tonight, anyway." She dashed into the Floo before he could respond.
:
"Bloody hell! Where have you been?" snapped Ron, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. "And what the hell are you wearing?"
Hermione looked down at her black robes with their hundreds of buttons. Instead of answering, she held up the paper in her hand.
Ron read it and then hugged her tight. "Good work," he said with feeling.
She hugged him back, kissed him good night, and then billowed off to her bed.
"That's creepy, that is!" he called after her.
:
Creepy is such a relative term...
Also, I have received several requests for paddiew's Spam Sushi recipe. I can tell you for sure that there is spam and a small plastic gadget involved...