Ahhhhh! I can't belive I'm updating. Neither can you, for that matter ;) Thank you to Bree for the quick beta, and to everyone who has so patiently awaited this next installment.
Chapter 10: Public Enemies
Thursday, 13 November
Ginny dreamt about Lucius Malfoy. The dream did not seem to have a point, only the vague swirl of faces, buildings and colours in the background and his arrogant face twisted in a mocking sneer. It was so indistinct that when she finally startled herself awake she was unsure whether or not it was a vision or just a regular dream. What she was sure of, however, was the horrid feeling in her gut. He had that effect on people.
"What are you doing on the floor, girlie?" Fiona mumbled blearily from her bed.
Bewildered, Ginny glanced around. She was indeed on the floor, toppled chair behind her and her blanket in an uncomfortable heap beneath her.
"Bad dream," Ginny offered distractedly.
"Dream or vision?"
Ginny shrugged before climbing to her feet, righting the chair and plopping down into it. Her arse hurt from sitting in it all night. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine," Fiona replied impatiently. "And don't change the subject. You don't know or you don't want to talk about it?"
"Er, both?"
Ginny rubbed her face roughly with her hands to banish any remaining sleepiness, but what she really needed was coffee – preferably in intravenous form. She had been up most of the night with Draco and Adrienne, helping them to plan some sort of rescue for Luc. She did not really have much to contribute; she just wanted to stay with Draco.
It was also immensely gratifying to know that her mere presence was aggravating the hell out of Adrienne.
Fiona's stomach rumbled angrily. She giggled. "So, what's a girl gotta do to get some food around here?"
Ginny smiled. "I knew you'd make a full recovery. I'll go get us something."
Fiona stuck her tongue out and ducked as Ginny threw her blanket at her. "Hey! Be kind to the invalid!"
Ginny snorted. "Invalid my arse."
Just then there was a soft knock on the door and Maurice entered, carefully balancing a tray of food in one hand. A big, stupid grin spread across his face when he saw that Fiona was finally awake.
"Good morning. I brought you guys some food," he said, moving into the room.
"Thank you," Ginny said hastily as she jumped out of her chair. "But you two eat; I need to stretch my legs anyway." Then she dashed into the hallway and closed the door behind her before either of them could protest or invite her to stay. Being a third wheel sucked.
Content with her humble match-making abilities, Ginny walked down to the dining hall to get breakfast. She hadn't eaten since the previous morning, and was quite famished. There were two other people in the canteen with whom she might have eaten, but Ginny wanted some quiet time before she began interacting with the human race, so she grabbed two croissants and a cup of coffee and sat by herself. Someone had left the morning's paper discarded in the seat she happened to choose, which she decided to peruse, more to distract her brain from Draco's psychopathic father than to enrich her knowledge and understanding of the world.
She was not at all surprised, however, to see that Les Dragons Blancs had made the front page with their debacle at Lyon the day before. The story was incredibly stilted, of course, and not at all accurate, which was also unsurprising. The article pretty much said that Les Dragons attacked a house in a Muggle neighbourhood in Lyon before leading Enforcers on an Apparition chase across the country. They apprehended one fugitive, Luc Bolieau, who was being held at an undisclosed location until his trial.
Ginny snorted at the thought of what that trial would be like.
The paper contained nothing more of consequence, until a photograph in the bottom left-hand corner of the second to last page caught her eye. It was of Fiona and herself, taken after a Quidditch match the year before. They were both covered in mud and grinning like idiots, having just beaten Slytherin rather soundly. Ginny smiled at the memory, despite the fact that this sort of exposure, however minor, was potentially problematic. The last thing Ginny needed was to be spotted and shipped back to England, after Death Eaters tortured her for information. Or worse.
The article was short and, thankfully, not really about Fiona or Ginny. True, she was mentioned – apparently her mother had been raising seven kinds of hell since she left – but the journalist seemed to take more pleasure from ridiculing English schooling and its obvious lack of security than reporting on two missing girls.
Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, but thought the article worth mentioning to Draco nonetheless. She folded up the paper and checked her watch.
"Damn," she swore, swallowing the remnants of her coffee in one large gulp. It was after nine. Adrienne and Thomas should have been back by now, along with their assembled team and, as was the goal, Luc.
Ginny ran through the house to Draco's office. Immediately upon entering she noted three things: he hadn't slept, Adrienne had not, in fact, returned, and he was grinding his teeth. Otherwise he might have looked perfectly relaxed in his chair, staring at the wall. Carefully, Ginny shut the door behind her and walked around to sit facing him on the edge of his desk. Draco did not even blink.
"Nothing?" Ginny asked quietly.
"What do you think, Weasley?" Draco snapped. Without looking at her, he stood up to stand at the window overlooking the side yard.
It was with a Herculean effort that Ginny bit her tongue. She followed him to the window. "What do we do next?"
"I don't have a clue," Draco admitted with difficulty. "This wasn't part of the plan."
Ginny had just opened her mouth to respond when there was a heavy thump on the door followed by someone fighting with the door knob. Instead, Ginny rolled her eyes, pulled out her wand and opened the door.
Stephen fell ungracefully into the room. Anxiously, he stood, brushed his crumpled robes and straightened his skewed glasses. Stephen was a whiz with charms and gadgets, but not so good with the basics, like walking in a straight line and opening doors. It was a miracle he managed to dress himself successfully.
"What is it?" Draco snapped irritably.
"Ah, yes, thank you," he thanked Ginny distractedly, as he walked to a cabinet just behind and to the right of Draco's desk. There was a Wizarding Wireless on the second shelf; he switched it on.
"There's something I think you need to hear."
Ginny and Draco both listened in stunned silence as a delicate female voice announced that just before dawn that morning six members of the terrorist faction, Les Dragons Blancs, were captured during a failed attempt to rescue their comrade, Luc Bolieau, who had been apprehended the night before. Among those arrested were the notorious Adrienne Clarke and the previously unidentified spy, simply known as 'Thomas'.
All six would be transferred at an undisclosed time and location to Procrustes that very same day.
Stephen clicked off the Wireless and stood awkwardly watching Draco and Ginny.
Ginny was in shock, trying to figure out what could have happened. Thomas had managed to retrieve – Merlin only knew how – floor plans to the prison, and the four of them together had planned the best course of action. True, it was a dangerous mission, but their exit strategy had been purposefully designed to allow them escape at any time. How had they all been captured?
Draco cleared his throat. "Thank you, Stephen," he said tightly. "Try to find out when and where."
"Not a problem," he said, and hurried away.
Ginny gaped at Draco in wonder. He was so calm. She was a little queasy.
Draco went to his desk and began shifting through the papers piled there. They were the blueprints for the prison that Thomas had acquired.
"What are you looking for?" Ginny asked.
"These aren't just the blueprints for Procrustes," Draco replied distractedly. "There might be something useful here once we find out where the transfer will be taking place."
"Draco, what exactly are you planning to do?"
Without answering her, Draco rolled up the floor plans and opened the secret panel to the Portkey cache. Ginny chased him down the stairs. She'd be damned if he thought he was going anywhere without her.
"Draco?"
He walked to the end of the row and around the corner, and pulled a box off of the shelf. He stuffed a handful of Portkeys in his trouser pocket.
"We," he said, "are going to Paris."
We. Ginny almost smiled. "What's in Paris?"
"Oh, lots of things," he said, walking past her and continuing up the stairs. "The Eiffel Tower, Sacre Coeur, Notre Dame, l'Arc de Triomphe – the Prime Minister's offices."
They were in the corridor now.
"What are you planning to do?"
"We'll get to that later. Where's Maurice?"
"My room, with Fiona."
"Good. I need you to put together a small team to bring with us. We don't have many stationed in Paris, so we'll need to bring reinforcements with us. Tell them all to bring a set of robes and their broom, if they have one."
"Anyone in particular you want me to ask?"
They had just reached Ginny's room. Since she needed to gather her belongings and Draco needed to speak with Maurice, she swung the door wide open. She was three whole steps into the room before she realised that Maurice was seated on the side of Fiona's bed, breakfast untouched. They were snogging most enthusiastically.
Ginny froze, Draco cleared his throat, and Maurice literally threw himself off of the bed. Fiona's face was beet red, her mouth agape in surprise and embarrassment.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry," Ginny squeaked.
Feeling like an arse, she rushed to her trunk and grabbed her broom, harness, cloak and a clean set of robes. She stuffed it all into her knapsack and hurried out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Ginny closed her eyes and caught her breath, not realising she'd lost it.
"I should have seen that one coming a mile away," she muttered.
Ginny looked at Draco who hastily averted his gaze, a pinkish tint colouring his cheeks. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. Was it possible the kiss they'd almost shared the night before had been more than a moment of weakness? Ginny did not quite know how she felt about that.
Draco cleared his throat again, but still wouldn't meet her gaze. "Get Ellen," he suggested. "She handled herself quite well yesterday. Anyone else I leave entirely up to your discretion."
"Right. Yes. Okay," Ginny said, realising she'd been staring at Draco's lips.
"We'll leave from the clearing in ten minutes."
Ginny nodded and rushed off, wondering if she'd let him kiss her if he tried to again, and chastising herself for thinking about snogging Malfoy when there were lives at risk.
Ginny never imagined her first trip to Paris would include taking lodgings in a run-down warehouse in a bad part of the city. Les Dragons had acquired it through Muggle means, so the building was totally off-grid for it, but other than a Muggle Repellent Charm, there were no concealments in place, whatsoever. Being this close to the enemy's headquarters made it too dangerous to use any of the more potent charms.
Ginny had selected Ellen, Alex, and Daniel, all three of whom were more than willing. Jacques, who had spent the night in St. Gonlay rather than return to Beaurieux, had volunteered at once when he overheard Ginny explaining the situation to Ellen. Finally, she had recruited a young woman of about twenty named Yvette and her friend Fabrice. Yvette had had to talk him into coming, but he agreed in the end, if only to watch his friend's back.
Precisely ten minutes later they all Portkeyed to the ground level of the rather large warehouse. All along the walls were crate stacked upon crate of Merlin only knew what. The boxes were labelled in what looked like Russian, so Ginny could only guess at their contents.
The middle of the room looked like a monstrous cross between a Potions' lab, a Muggle science lab, her dad's workshop in the shed, and a firing range.
"Where the hell are we?" Ginny asked, looking around in awe. She'd never seen anything like it in her life.
"We have arrived at the humble abode of a pair of sociopaths I have affectionately dubbed the Technicolor Twins."
"Huh?"
"You'll see," Draco said with a smirk.
Ginny's ears suddenly rang with the sharp, metallic protestations of the very old, poorly-maintained lift which was descending from the second floor. Before the industrial-style lift even hit the floor, the door and grate were thrown open and an extremely skinny, anaemic-looking girl wearing a long-sleeved black mesh top over a pink tank, a denim miniskirt, and lime green leggings slipped out. She landed with the heavy thud of combat boots on concrete and ran across the room to Draco. Grape coloured liberty spikes and a studded leather collar completed the ensemble.
She was definitely in Technicolor.
"Draco, darling!" she sang in heavily accented English. The Russian on the crates was making sense now. "It's been ages! Where have you been?"
"Everywhere and nowhere," he replied, exchanging kisses on the cheeks. "Irina, this is Ginny. She'll be helping plan the extraction."
Ginny smiled and shook the girl's hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," Irina said. "You're English."
"Er, yes. Draco and I went to school together," Ginny added, not really knowing what else to say.
"Interesting." Irina threw Draco a suggestive smirk coupled with a raised eyebrow that Ginny would have had to have been blindfolded to miss.
"This is Daniel, Alex, and Ellen," Draco broke in before Irina said anything that would likely embarrass the both of them. "Yvette and Fabrice are the two hanging out in the back there, and I believe you've met Jacques before."
Irina and Jacques shook hands and exchanged hellos. She spoke French well, but with as much of an accent as her English. Now that introductions were made, Irina offered to bring them up to the rooms that had been prepared on the second floor, and told them that the lift, despite appearances, was perfectly safe. Ellen brought Ginny's things up while she stayed with Draco.
"What is this place?" Ginny asked, looking around the huge room.
"Experimental weapons research," Draco replied. He spotted a relatively clear table and unrolled the blueprints he'd brought, using various things on the table to hold the corners down. "Irina and Ilya have extensive training with all manner of Muggle weapons. They've been here for almost a year trying to magically enhance all sorts of things to use against the Ministry. They're borderline extremists."
Judging by the size of their arsenal, Ginny had little trouble doubting it. "So, where did you find them?"
Draco snorted. "I wouldn't exactly say that I found them so much as they made our acquaintance unavoidable."
Ginny arched an eyebrow, begging him to explain.
"How's your History of Magic?"
"Eh. Shite. What has that got to do with anything?"
"Well, when the French Muggles had their Revolution, so did the Wizards. There were two wars occurring at the same time in the same place and for the same essential reasons. At one point towards the end of the Wizarding Revolution, the rebels burned the Ministry building to the ground. After that, they made sure that all of the different departments were given their own buildings in their own cities and that the heads of each department only convened a handful of times a month."
"The Department of Magical Transportation is in Marseille," Irina interrupted behind them. How she'd managed to sneak up on them was a mystery. "We grafitti'd it and then blew off the roof. It was fucking awesome."
"It was certainly attention-grabbing," Draco said moderately. Irina rolled her blue eyes. "But the important part was the graffiti: Vive la Révolution! The rest was a coded message giving us an address at which to find them that took me three days to crack."
Ginny didn't really know what to say, so she stuck to staring incredulously back and forth between Draco and Irina. 'Extremist' might have been an understatement. After a moment or two of awkward silence, she cleared her throat and asked: "So, what part of the Ministry is here in Paris?"
"The Prime Minister and his staff have their offices here, along with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, for protection," Draco answered.
"And you think that's where they are being held?" Ginny asked, referring to their captured comrades.
"I'm quite certain of it, actually," Draco replied, studying the blueprints. "I'm just waiting for confirmation.
"Where's Ilya?" he asked Irina.
"He went to meet one of our contacts in Romania yesterday. We needed brimstone and fresh dragon's blood. He should be back this afternoon."
"Good." Draco turned to Ginny. "As soon as we have a verified location, you and Ilya are going to scout the area. I need every last detail."
Ginny stared at Draco until he met her gaze. She was thrilled at his automatic inclusion of her, but that uneasy feeling the morning's dream had given her had not dissipated in the least. On the contrary, it had increased with every new turn of events.
"You must see that this is a trap, Draco."
"I'm counting on it," he said, very seriously.
"Then how do you know that Adrienne and Thomas will even be there? What's to say that they're not being held at Procrustes where they were caught?"
"Because the Ministry knows that they have a mole somewhere, and they more than likely suspect that the mole is an Enforcer. They know that we will ultimately discover where they're truly being held, just like they know we'll try to make another rescue attempt.
"From the Ministry's point of view, it's a win-win situation. They flush out a traitor and catch more of us at the same time."
"Assuming they're not expecting us to figure it out," Ginny persisted.
"You know nothing of French arrogance," Irina said. "It will not allow them to think that a rag-tag bunch of adolescents and Muggle-borns could ever out-manoeuvre them." Irina smiled a slow, predatory smile. "Besides, they don't know what tricks we have up our sleeves. Wanna see?"
Ginny decided right then that Irina was most likely one of the single most unnerving individuals she had ever met, and that was saying something.
It was past noon before they received any sort of confirmation, and Ginny spent the time absorbing a crash course in Muggle weaponry from Irina. The Russian girl had even taught Ginny how to fire one of the smaller weapons, saying it never hurt to know how to use anything, even if it was Muggle. Ginny wasn't sure how she felt about the awkward, metal things, but she had to admit that some of the modifications were down-right brilliant.
In fact, the more she learned, the more Irina and her brother reminded her of Fred and George: Both sets of twins were well skilled in the art of wreaking havoc. The only difference was Fred and George's goal in life was to help as many kids skive off classes and harass Filch as was possible, while Irina and Ilya aimed to dismantle a tyrannical government. Fred and George might have argued there was little difference.
Maurice arrived in a hurry at one-fifteen that afternoon to tell Draco that Stephen had duly confirmed the time and location: six p.m. at the south entrance of the Enforcers' building. There was an Apparition point two blocks away, the only one. Draco was pleased by this, and reminded Ginny of what he wanted her to do before leaving with Maurice, promising to be back as soon as possible.
Ilya returned on foot ten minutes later, carrying a large metal case and a leather satchel that had seen better days. He looked just like his sister except that he was not quite as scrawny. He was clad mostly in black leather and had a neon-orange mohawk.
The twins exchanged a few short sentences in Russian before Ilya deposited the case on a nearby table and put the satchel in a Muggle refrigerator they had for the purpose of storing temperature-sensitive potion ingredients. Then he introduced himself to Ginny.
"I'm Ilya," he said in English. His accent was a little clearer than his twin. "My sister tells me you're my partner for the afternoon."
"I'm Ginny," she replied, offering her hand. "Shall we?"
"Yeah, but can we get something to eat on the way? I'm starving." He rubbed his stomach for emphasis.
Ginny shrugged. "There has never been a Weasley who ever turned down an opportunity for food," she said as they began walking towards the door. "It must be against some sort of code or something."
Ilya openly studied Ginny's' face for a moment. "Did you say Weasley?"
"Yes?" Ginny said, a little confused.
"As in Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes?"
"Er, yes?"
"Small fucking world, eh? We've been using their Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder in some of our experiments. Fucking fantastic stuff. I can't believe you're related to them."
"Really? The hair and the freckles weren't a giveaway?"
Ilya laughed.
"Besides, if you knew me better, you wouldn't have any trouble at all believing that we're related. Or any of my other brothers for that matter – except Percy."
Ginny pulled a face – the prodigal son had yet to return to the fold – causing Ilya to laugh again. He held the door open and let Ginny pass in front of him.
"I may just have to do that."
"Do what?"
"Get to know you better."
Ginny didn't really know what to say. She was pretty sure that Ilya was flirting with her. Weird.
"Be careful what you wish for."
Ilya arched an eyebrow in amusement and joined her on the sidewalk before leading the way. "So, you actually have a brother named Percy?"
It was Ginny's turn to laugh.
The metro was dreadful. It was dirty and crowded and she was not at all comforted by how close the careening train was to its underground walls. Ilya kept up a steady stream of chatter, she thought, to distract her, asking her every random question about her family he could think of.
"So, there's Bill, who works for Gringotts, Charlie, who's a dragon keeper in Romania, Percy, who's got his head up the Minister's arse, Fred and George I've met, and... who's the last one? You said you had six."
"Ron," Ginny replied, squeezing her eyes shut against the rocking motion of the train. "He's only a year ahead of me."
"Open your eyes, love. That'll just make it worse. And what does he do?"
Ginny's eyes did indeed pop open, but not because Ilya told her to do so. She was shocked to realise that that instant was the first time she'd thought about her brother since the beach at Dover before she and Fiona crossed the Channel. Then she realised, that she had also not spared a single thought for Harry, either.
"Fighting the good fight, I expect," she replied vaguely, suddenly subdued. And a little queasy, to boot.
This guilt was so not on.
Ilya studied her closely and far more seriously than she would have thought him capable of, but she thanked the gods in heaven that Ilya seemed to be one of those rare blokes who knew when to bloody well drop something.
"So, what about you and Irina? How did you get to be where you are?"
"I take it you don't just mean France," he replied with a sly grin.
"No," Ginny admitted. "I don't."
"I like a girl who gets to the point. Our parents were KGB and-"
"KGB?"
"Kind of like MI-5 but not as pleasant. And Communist."
"Oh."
"Well, by the time we were seven we could dismantle and reassemble just about any sort of firearm we could get our hands on. You can imagine our parents' disappointment when we got our letters inviting us to attend a small Wizardry school in the Ukraine. While we were there, we got to see the effects of Communism first hand, and not through the worshipful and slightly skewed spectacles our parents wore. Wear. Whatever.
"Anyway, when we were sixteen they tried to pull us out, so we ran away – bummed around Kiev for a year, before deciding we needed to put our, erm, expertise to good use. Nine or ten months ago, when we were visiting a friend who lives just over the German border, we caught wind of the rebellion here, and decided to lend a hand. We tracked down Les Dragons and the rest is history. "
"Ah, a zealot for the downtrodden and socially depressed," Ginny teased.
Ilya shrugged. "Someone needs to do it. And it's just so much fucking fun."
Ginny laughed, her nausea totally forgotten.
Conversation had pretty much died out after that, but it wasn't awkward. Although, Ginny had caught Ilya studying her with that same intense look more than once, but she'd be buggered if she could say why. She did not know him well enough to read his expression. Yet. She had a feeling their paths would be crossing frequently. And her feelings had been pretty spot on lately.
When they reached their destination, she was unsurprised by how unremarkable it looked. They were at the end of a dead-end alley, staring at a perfectly nondescript brick wall. From thin air, Ilya conjured two sets of black robes and hooded cloaks, which they donned, looked to ensure no Muggles were watching, and unceremoniously dragged Ginny through.
They had arrived in Wizarding Paris. Ginny tried not to look like a tourist. The hidden microcosm was far classier than Diagon Alley. Instead of steely grey flagstone, most of the city seemed to be made of green and black marble shot through with gold. The lampposts and other luminary fixtures were made of bronze and etched glass. Everywhere Ginny looked, something shiny caught her eye.
Ilya informed her that even the low-end shops were pricey.
"Why so expensive? " Ginny inquired as Ilya practically dragged her through the milling crowds.
"Because, for the most part, the poorest Wizards are Muggle-born. The government likes to make it as difficult for us as possible. A lot of the supplies we get are hot or smuggled in," he whispered. "There just isn't enough money."
Ginny quickly got over Wizarding Paris, and forced herself to focus on why she was there. Their success this afternoon relied heavily on how thoroughly she and Ilya did their jobs. She would not fail her first official mission. Not with so many lives at stake.
The crowds were so thick in the narrow streets that it took them nearly twenty minutes to reach the Ministry building. It was exceedingly large, considering it housed but two departments, but seemed to fit right in with the rest of the neighbourhood. It was ostentatious, intimidating even.
Ginny felt the morning's anxiety well up in her stomach again. Adrienne, Thomas and maybe even Luc were somewhere in that building, along with four others. She stood staring for a moment before Ilya led her off to the left, whispering something about finding a good place to surveil the door from which their comrades were supposed to exit. She had trouble tearing her eyes away from the building. Somehow, just being there in the flesh instead of speaking hypothetically over stolen maps drove home the severity of the situation.
Not that she had been treating the capture of her comrades flippantly, it was just more real now – more urgent.
"Is there any way we can gain rooftop access to one of these buildings?" Ginny suggested. "It would give us the best vantage."
"I hope so," Ilya responded. "Because it'll be too dangerous on the ground this close to the building, not to mention rather pointless with all these people."
"Is it usually this crowded?"
"No."
"Do you think it's because of the announcement?"
Ilya shrugged. "I don't see how. The time and location weren't mentioned."
It took them a while to find a building that wasn't warded or occupied, but they did, thankfully. Drawing his wand, Ilya transfigured their black cloaks into a funny mottling of grey, black, and white with a hint of green. Ginny kept her hood drawn close to hide her hair. She doubted anyone glancing up from the ground would be able to spot them without an effort.
Ginny studied the street below and immediately noticed a significant problem.
"Are you sure this is the right place?"
"I've only been here once, but yes. That is the Enforcer wing, there." He pointed. "And that's the door they should be using."
"Well damn."
Ilya watched as Ginny drew a folded piece of parchment out of her back pocket.
"What's wrong?"
"Engorgio," Ginny said, tapping her wand to the parchment. Immediately, the building's city plan grew to a legible size. She'd made a copy so she could take notes, if need be. She was glad she did.
"This map," she said, "is nothing like what I'm looking at down there. The street names are the same, but the building is different."
"It is," Ilya agreed, peering over her shoulder. "Nothing huge, but enough to cause some tactical issues."
Ginny's stomach lurched. "You realise this is probably how it all happened, right? I think all the information Thomas brought us yesterday was false. It was a set up. That's why none of them implemented their exit strategy."
"Or Thomas betrayed us."
"No," Ginny said with certainty. An image of the night of Draco's capture sprang to mind. If he was a traitor, then there wouldn't be any reason for Draco to keep him around. She was positive. "Thomas can be trusted."
Unless Draco only kept him around because Ginny assured him Thomas was trustworthy. This could get complicated.
Ilya stared at her curiously. "You're awfully certain for someone who's been here for less than a month. Anything you'd like to share?"
Why did it always come back to her visions? She supposed she shouldn't be too surprised.
Ginny kept her eyes on the parchment. "Not particularly."
"Not particularly as in there isn't anything to share, or you don't particularly care to share it?"
Ginny sighed. "Listen, I know you don't know me very well, but you're just going to have to trust me on this. Thomas is on our side. Now, I dated an artist once. I'm no professional, but I should be able to correct these schematics well enough. You keep look-out while I do this and we'll be out of here in no time."
Ilya glowered at his obvious dismissal, but Ginny brushed her guilt aside. She liked Ilya, she really did, but she did not yet trust him enough to tell him about her visions, nor was there cause to do so. Draco was the only person she really had to convince. As far as Ginny was concerned, the less people who knew, the better. It was bad enough that she felt crazy half the time, she didn't need people looking at her like they agreed.
It took Ginny just over an hour and two changes of location for her to complete her sketch. Ilya had wanted to accompany her on the ground, but she insisted that he remain where he was and watch the entrance, keeping track of those who came and went, as it might well be important later.
Ginny rejoined Ilya on the roof where she'd left him.
"They're definitely expecting something," he said. "There are sentries everywhere."
Ginny had him mark the positions of the sentries on the parchment.
"We should get back. It's getting late," he said.
Ginny groaned. "We don't have to take the metro again, do we?"
Ilya chuckled, the earlier tension forgotten, at least for the moment. "No, but we have to get back into the Muggle city first. The wards here are too powerful."
"Good," Ginny said with a sigh of relief.
They hurried back through the city with Ilya in the lead. Ginny kept her hood drawn and her eyes peeled. She had the unpleasant feeling of being watched. She hated it.
At last, they reached the portal into the Muggle city.
As Ilya discreetly prepared the Portkey, Ginny took one last paranoid glance through the magical hole in the wall. What she saw froze her blood in her veins.
Lucius Malfoy stood not two dozen paces away, a smug sneer twisting his lips.
Then Ilya took her hand and the scene swirled and vanished. His face stuck in her head.
They reappeared just inside the warehouse, near the door. Draco, Irina, and a man Ginny did not know were studying something spread across the table. Draco's head popped up at their arrival. His brow furrowed.
"What happened?" he asked, his eyes glued on Ginny.
Ginny swallowed and opened her mouth, but Ilya spared her the trouble.
"Whoever got your man, Thomas, these blueprints fucked us well and proper."
"What do you mean?" Irina said.
Ginny produced the blueprints. "These were far from correct."
Draco took and opened them, his face unreadable.
"I've drawn the corrections over the originals," Ginny said. "And, I'll wager that's how our guys got captured in the first place. Hell, we don't even know if the coordinates were correct. For all we know, they may have Portkeyed right into an ambush."
Again, if Ginny had expected a grand reaction, she was disappointed.
The man Ginny did not know spoke up. He was tall and dark with mean eyes. Ginny disliked him instantly.
"And how do we know it wasn't your man Thomas who fucked us well and proper? Were any of you present when he received these documents? Do you know who his source is?"
Ginny stared wide-eyed at the man. He was staring at Draco. Draco was grinding his teeth again. He handed the blueprints back to Ginny and walked calmly back to the table, where he stood face to face with the other man.
Lightning quick, Draco grabbed a fistful of the other man's hair on the back of his head and slammed his face down on the table. The other man struggled, but Draco held him firm.
"I trust Thomas with my life, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say about you, Guy. He is no traitor. We have more important things to discuss. If you wish to spend your time elsewhere, do feel free to piss off."
Guy looked about ready to hex Draco, but the fact that both Irina and Ilya had their wands already in hand changed his mind. Ginny was surprised to note that her fingers, too, had unconsciously sought out her wand. With a sneer and as much dignity he could muster, Guy stormed out.
Everyone remained silent until the door slammed shut behind him.
"Honestly, Draco," Irina said, stowing her wand. "Whatever did you invite him for?"
"I didn't," Draco said. "I went to Toulouse for Lysette and Claude. He insisted, and we needed the bodies."
"Not that badly, we don't," Irina muttered.
Draco ignored her and beckoned Ginny and Ilya to the table.
"Tell me what you saw, every detail. We're running out of time."
It was nearly five before Ginny and Draco were alone.
The plans had been laid, and Ginny's group was set to depart any minute. She needed to change into her robes and fetch her broom, and was upstairs.
The first floor was little more than a catwalk surrounding the main warehouse, but most of the second floor was a barracks-style sleeping area, filled with bunk beds and a few rickety wardrobes housing bed linens, toiletries, and a few odd robes. Ginny got the feeling that the warehouse was more of temporary safe house for fugitives just sort of passing through. She doubted that anyone besides Ilya and Irina stayed there on a regular basis.
Ginny walked to the lift at the far end of the room pushed the button, calling it to her floor. Draco was waiting for her inside. She got in and pulled down the outer grate and shut the inner gate, but Draco did not pull the lever that would lower the lift to the ground level. He was watching her. Ginny met his gaze head on.
"Did you see anything?" he asked, his voice heavy.
Ginny knew what he meant. "Yes, but it's already come to pass."
"What do you mean?"
"This morning I had a dream that your father was staring at me. This afternoon as Ilya and I were leaving the Wizarding section of the city, your father was staring at me."
Ginny reached across him, and pulled the lever. The lift screeched in protest as is began to move.
Draco tensed, ever-so-slightly, but it was his only reaction. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I just did."
"Smart ass."
"You know you wouldn't have me any other way," Ginny replied with a cheeky smile.
Draco graced her with a small smile of his own, a bemused expression on his face. Ginny looked away, blushing. She cleared her throat.
"You should be flying tonight. We could use you up there."
"I need to be on the ground, and you know it. Besides, you're a damn good flyer yourself. A little wild, maybe, but you get the job done. I have little doubt you'll execute the extraction perfectly."
Ginny knew she must have looked a complete idiot, gaping as she was, but she couldn't help it. Draco had just paid her a compliment. Of his own volition. She wondered if the devil was strapping on his ice skates.
"Thank you," she said quietly, still slightly awed.
Draco waved his hand dismissively, as though the compliment had meant nothing. "You're the strongest flyer. That's why I put you in charge."
The lift ground to a halt. Neither of them moved, as though under a spell. Draco was looking distinctly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat.
"Listen, about last night..."
"Yes?" Ginny said, her pulse speeding up.
She wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. Did he regret their private moment? Would he offer his assurances that it would never happen again? Would he apologise?
She hoped not.
"I-"
Suddenly, the grate was lifted and the accordion-like partition thrown open. Irina looked from Ginny to Draco and cocked an eyebrow. Ginny felt her face heat further. She felt as though she'd been caught red-handed, even though she had done nothing at all.
Irina looked back to Ginny. "It's time."
"Yes, of course." Ginny threw one last sideways glance at Draco before stepping out to join the rest of the extraction team.
"Oh, and Weasley?"
Ginny turned.
"Do try not to do anything too stupid."
Ginny grinned. "Come on, you know me."
"I do," Draco replied gravely. "Sodding Gryffindor."
"I won't if you don't. Deal?"
Draco smirked. "Deal."
Ginny and her team, which consisted of Claude and Lysette of Toulouse, Alex, Daniel, as well as Emilie and Pierre from Marseille, used a specially made Portkey to a temporarily vacant shop about two blocks away from the secret entrance to Wizarding Paris. It was a one-way Portkey, but Ginny destroyed it upon arrival, just in case. Once everyone had arrived, she sent them into the lions' den to make their way to the rendezvous point, one at a time so as not to draw attention. She went last.
Forty-five minutes later, Ginny thanked the gods that everyone had arrived in safety. Draco had a contact that lived in a flat about a kilometre from the Ministry building who agreed to give them access. They were all smuggled to the rooftop to await their signal.
With only fifteen minutes left until show time, Ginny went over the plan one more time.
"All right. As soon as all of our guys are clear of the building, Ilya and Irina will do what they do best – "
Claude snorted. "If you mean half the block will perish in a fiery conflagration, then yes."
Ginny smiled. "Precisely. That's our cue. The blast should block all progress on the ground, and put the Enforcers and any Death Eaters present against the blaze. The twins will then proceed to the Apparition point to disable it, preventing pursuit. Draco's team on the ground will divert attention to themselves, giving us time and space to complete our mission. Our mission, our only mission is to extract the prisoners. In and out; clean and simple."
"In theory," Daniel added. "Nothing ever goes as planned."
"No," Ginny admitted, "but our first priority is to get the prisoners to the rendezvous point. Stephen should have the Ward Disruptor operational by then, allowing us to Portkey to safety. Any questions?"
"Yeah," said Pierre, looking a little peeved. "What's with the Muggle weapons?"
Ginny had asked Irina the exact same thing when the Russian had insisted on outfitting Ginny with a pair of Makarov pistols along with the Kalashnikov rifle slung over her shoulder. Pierre, Alex and Lysette had also received a rifle each, and the others had goodie bags strapped across their chests, all compliments of the Technicolor Twins.
Ginny had practiced firing the handguns while awaiting news that afternoon. The double shoulder holster had been cumbersome at first, but was now a surprisingly comforting weight against her sides. If she lost her wand, she would not be totally defenceless.
"Mostly, they're for our passengers. They won't have their wands and we'll all have a better chance of making it out of the city alive if they can watch our backs and let us fly. Also, I'm pretty sure Irina wants to use us as guinea pigs for the Accuracy Charms she placed on them, especially the Kalashnikovs," she said.
Lysette snorted. "Irina would want to use a rescue mission as a test run."
Ginny smiled. "Anything else?"
No-one spoke up. Ginny did not need to be psychic to tell that they were all nervous, except Lysette who seemed a bit bored. She felt she should say something encouraging, but was at a total loss. This wasn't a Quidditch match they were heading into. It was battle. There was a very real possibility that one – or all – of them would not return.
Funny how just over a month ago, she and her friends might have considered the Quidditch match a life or death situation. Oliver would have argued that it was. Harry might have done at one point, too. Her brothers probably would have agreed. It all seemed so silly now. Ginny cleared her throat.
"I know not all of you chose this life," she said, looking at Alex, who had been forced to flee his home for refusing to register as a Muggle-born. He looked as determined to do this as he was not to vomit. Daniel was at his side, as ever, wearing a similar expression.
"But here we are, fighting an enemy that hates us blindly for our heritages and our allegiances. But, most importantly, they hate us for our unwillingness to bow to them, to hand over our lives and our free will to them because they deem us inferior.
"They think us weak, unskilled, disorganised. And yet they fear us," Ginny said fiercely, passion bubbling up in her chest. She was surprised by its intensity.
"Do you know why? Because we resist. Because they have forced us from our families, murdered our friends, and we still fight them. Because we have nothing left to lose, and we won't give up. Because we have heart." Ginny pounded her fist to her breast. "And loyalty, and a willingness to die for what we believe in."
"I won't lie to you. We may all very well die tonight, but I would rather die fighting to save my friends than to live under a mad-man's boot heel."
As soon as the words left Ginny's mouth, a great explosion rocked the city, spewing smoke and debris high into the air. It was followed quickly by three more.
Ginny climbed onto the low ledge surrounding the roof. She snapped her broomstick out of its harness and turned to face them.
"All right, mates – diamond formation. Claude, you bring up the rear. If anything happens to me, you follow Lysette's command. Understood?"
There were mute nods all around, but Ginny was pleased to note that the members of her small team seemed more determined than fearful now.
"Right then, let's go wreak some havoc."
Ginny turned and dove from the rooftop. The building was not quite as tall as the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts, but the free-fall was no less exhilarating. Ginny had not been on her broom since that night at Pexonne, and she relished the familiar surge of adrenaline that coursed through her body as the street below drew nearer. At the last moment, she shoved her broom beneath her and shot off northward toward the explosion. A few moments later, she saw Alex and Lysette move into position on either side of her. She had little doubt that Emilie, Daniel, Pierre, and Claude were behind her. She knew despite any fear, they would never abandon their comrades, not to a fate as bleak as Procrustes.
As Ginny flew through the streets of Wizarding Paris at breakneck speed, she allowed her mind to settle. The ubiquitous dread she'd felt since waking was banished to the darkest corner of her mind. Now she only felt the worn wood of her broomstick beneath her fingertips and the frigid November air whipping through her hair. She barely registered the shouts of surprise and displeasure uttered by the few people dotting the streets as she and her team zoomed past.
They arrived at the Ministry building less than two minutes later. Ginny had not been quite clear on what a bazooka was, or how it worked, but was glad that Ilya and Irina knew their stuff. The Enforcer wing was now partially obliterated; what remained was now burning. The street had also been targeted, and now had three huge craters and so much detritus as to be nearly impassable without the time to clear the rubble. As it was, it seemed they were having a hard enough time keeping the fire from spreading to the rest of the building.
In the confusion following the explosions, Draco and his team of twenty-five Dragons, gathered from across the country, attacked from the rear. The Enforcers, apparently, had been prepared for it, and outnumbered the Dragons nearly two to one.
Reflexively, Ginny's eyes scanned the hazy melee, urgently seeking out Draco's distinctive flash of platinum hair. Her eyes landed instead upon Adrienne. It was difficult to see anything through the billowing smoke, but Adrienne's white skin and jet black hair were not easy to mistake.
Adrienne, along with the other prisoners, were huddled on the street near the conflagration. There were at least ten enforcers guarding them, some with wands aimed at the prisoners, some at the fray to ward off any would be rescuers. They had been prepared for this.
Ginny halted and caught Alex's eyes and signalled that he should circle around to the left. With a nod of acknowledgement, he did so. Daniel and Emilie followed. She gave Lysette the same command, and soon they were fanned out around the group below. Ginny drew her wand.
"Gaelus Maximus!" she shouted, pointing her wand straight ahead. Suddenly a great gust of wind tore forcefully down the street. The blaze surged with the increase of oxygen, but the spell had the desired effect: the area had been totally cleared of smoke, dust and ash, giving Ginny and the others full visibility. True, they had lost their cover, but with the Enforcers crowded so closely to the captives, Ginny did not want to risk inadvertently injuring one of their own.
Ginny saw Adrienne glance skyward, spot them, and elbow what looked like Thomas.
"Now!" Ginny shouted.
Simultaneously, Ginny, Lysette, Pierre and Alex dive-bombed the Enforcers beneath them, leaving Claude, Daniel and Emilie to cover them from above. They never knew what hit them. Ginny disarmed one and kicked him in the face as she rocketed back into the air. He crumpled to the ground unconscious. The others had done something similar, except for Lysette, who landed and engaged two of the Enforcers.
Adrienne and Thomas, seeing their intentions, used the attack as a diversion and leapt at their captors. Thomas jumped on the back of the nearest one, wrapped his iron shackles around the other man's neck and pulled. Adrienne kicked one viciously behind the legs, bringing him to his knees. Without hesitation, Adrienne grabbed the man's chin with her left hand and twisted sharply upward. Ginny imagined she heard his neck snap, and tried not to think about how easy it had been.
Ginny dove again, cast a quick Stunner at an Enforcer who had Pierre in his sights and landed. Ducking a flash of blue that sailed just past her head, she watched another Enforcer collapse, his body encased in some gooey, gelatinous substance. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Daniel smile and salute. She'd have to remember to thank him later.
Adrienne was at Ginny's side before she had even fully dismounted.
"Get these things off me," she demanded, showing Ginny her restraints.
"Are they magical?"
"Physical, I think."
Ginny pressed the tip of her wand against the links. "Diffindo," she said. There was a flash and a clink. The chain had separated.
Not waiting for the thanks Ginny knew would not be coming, Ginny removed the Kalashnikov and tossed it to Adrienne. "Know how to use it?"
"Of course," Adrienne snapped in return.
"Good, cover me."
"Cover yourself. I'm finding Draco."
"The hell you are," Ginny said, yanking Adrienne's arm. The other girl had already begun walking away. "I'm in charge of this extraction, and I'll be buggered if I let your self-righteous stubbornness fuck this up. Now cover me so I can make sure we all get out alive."
Adrienne looked like she'd rather eat her spleen, but didn't argue, miraculously. Instead she raised the rifle and fired a quick burst of rounds past Ginny, making her ears ring. Another Enforcer fell."
"Thanks," Ginny said, grudgingly. "Was that so difficult?"
Adrienne glared. Apparently, it was.
Ginny ignored her and surveyed the scene. All of the guards had been dispatched and the other members of the team were currently either helping their passengers out of their chains or were, like Adrienne, watching everyone else's backs.
Emilie, Alex and Daniel were ready to leave already, Remy, Jerome, and Melanie, their passengers, sporting assault rifles.
Lysette was bleeding profusely from a wound across her chest, and the way she carried her left arm suggested it was broken. As was her broom, Ginny noted with displeasure. Pierre had a deep gash on his cheek that would likely require mending, but was otherwise fully capable. He and Pascale were also prepared to leave.
Luc and Claude, however, were having trouble. Luc, who had been captured the previous day, was almost unrecognisable. He was covered in bruises, his clothing torn. His left eye was swollen shut, his lips split and bleeding, and where his shackles had been were angry and raw, as though he had been struggling against them for too long. He was unable to hold himself upright without assistance, and was sat on the ground, propped up against a huge chunk of building that had landed nearby.
Ginny was unsure how good a flyer Claude was, but she knew from experience how difficult it was to have a passenger, let alone one who was practically unconscious. Her brain was whirling. There really only seemed to be one option, and she already didn't like it.
"Alex, Daniel, Emilie, Pierre – hit the road, don't look back. Remember, your first priority is to get to the rendezvous point." Ginny tossed her broom to Thomas, who caught it easily. "You fly Lysette back. Claude, you take Adrienne. I'll take Luc back on foot."
"You can't be serious," Adrienne said. "Draco—"
"Draco knows what he's doing. You have your orders."
Adrienne sneered. "I don't take orders from you."
"You do today."
Without waiting to witness their obedience, Ginny went to Luc and crouched beside him. His breathing was shallow, and he was fighting just to keep his good eye open. She cupped his face in her hands.
"I'm Ginny, and I'm going to get you out of here. I promise."
Ginny tapped her wand to the top of Luc's head and watched him slowly fade away before casting the Disillusionment Charm on herself. She shivered at the sensation. Now that they were both invisible, Ginny heaved Luc to his feet and draped his arm over her shoulder. She was lucky Luc was of a slight build and not much taller than she, or else it may have been a doomed task.
Ginny looked around. Smoke and ash had filled the square again, limiting visibility, but the sounds of battle could still be clearly heard and barely discernable forms rushed around the scene. There was spellfire to dodge everywhere. Ginny wished she knew if Draco was all right, but there was nothing for it. Getting Luc out was more important right now.
Pointing her wand to the sky, Ginny sent a burst of green sparks into the air, their signal that the extraction was complete, and began walking, Luc relying heavily upon her for support, towards the rendezvous point.