Author's note: this chapter contains scenes of torture that may be unsettling. Please read with caution.
Chapter 11: From Russia With Love
Seamus held the door for Hermione as she, Joanna, and Denis entered Shacklebolt's office on a rainy Wednesday in September. He looked distraught, Kingsley, a mood she hadn't seen him in for years.
"I have some challenging information to share. As of 10:00 am GMT, five Ukrainian nationals have been taken, one killed by a new faction of Voldemort style followers, a man named Sergei Poroshenko leads them and as far as we can tell, he's ruthless. He's forty-five and well-connected, some wealthy uncles connected to the Romanovs. We need information and if possible, you have the power to take them out. The cleaner the kill, the better, except Poroshenko, we need him alive." Shacklebolt gave Hermione a large file box and bag filled with items they might need.
Once they left the ministry and met in their usual headquarters, Hermione briefed them on what their mode of operation would be. Seamus and she would scout the locations first, contacting other agents working with the Ministry to get inside information before making any moves, Joanna and Denis were to remain behind and work on research from the Ministry until they were sent for.
"I'm telling you now, this will be a long, arduous assignment. You may not come home for weeks, so when we send for you, have everything in order." They nodded and took the file box from Hermione. She knew immediately she needed to update her will to reflect recent events with Ron and also wrote a coded letter to Severus. She and Seamus agreed to portkey to Ukraine on Friday so they had time to get everything settled before they were in the field.
That night, knowing Ron was coming home from Croatia, she sat him down and told him what she could about the mission.
"That sounds dangerous!" He yelled, making her jump a bit.
"I will be there for research, connecting with contacts, and then I will be home and orchestrate as I normally do. Finnegan will head the team; I will not go to Russia unless they are in danger, in which I will alert the Aurors." She gave him a copy of her new will and files with some redacted information on Poroshenko since her security clearance was several levels above his.
"I bet it would be nice to still have Snape around in times like these." His genuine comment made her hope that someday he would accept her affections for Snape.
"It does, for sure." She hugged him before going upstairs and finding her own letter from Snape. He wrote about his new therapy rounds and how much he valued the expertise of Healer Marcia. At the end, he warned her about Russia again, telling her that if things got out of hand to use the necklace for trade, it was imbued with some restorative powers, and also that he'd kept the remaining amber and if she was truly in need, he would carry a portion that would burn against his skin. Everything felt better then. Her reply was short and sweet, promising another letter as soon as they were settled in Ukraine.
Bright and early the next morning, armed with a knapsack much like the one she'd carried following Harry around all those years ago, she met Seamus at portkey and they were off. It didn't take long to get settled in Kiev, an apartment rented and alias' drawn up. For the first week, they operated as they normally had, although Snape had been her partner for most of these missions. They allies in the country who could give them information about the men held hostage and the one killed, who Sergei Poroshenko was and who followed him, and how they could get into Russia avoiding detection. In little time, they made strong contacts in St. Petersburg and were sure Poroshenko was living in a small town outside of Moscow called Ivanovo, where Poroshenko had ties to some banks. When October came, Hermione returned home to Britain to brief Shacklebolt and assemble the rest of her team, who followed her to Kiev before leaving for St. Petersburg.
When she made it to her room finally after a long day of meetings, Hermione collapsed on her bed. She missed home and comforts, but mostly she missed Snape's letter, detailing his life. Walking across the room to her desk, she noticed the letterbox was ajar, though her enchantments hadn't been broken. Putting it out of her mind, she opened the stack of letters that hadn't made it to Kiev and began answering them. His penmanship was sharp and purposeful, just like him. After finishing her letters and making sure Snape knew she was going back into the field, Hermione created a further two shelves in her letterbox to keep prying eyes out in case someone had tried to tamper with them. Between the enchantments, coded letters, and now four layers of drawers, she was certain no one would be able to crack them. Ron was away at the Ministry when she left, so she wrote him a note about going back to Ukraine, then grabbed her bag, walked out the door.
That evening, the four of them ate dinner at a traditional pub and talked quietly about the move. In the morning, McCreevy and Ware would establish an apartment in St. Petersburg and find a contact who went by McGillivray. Then Seamus would join them when things were settled, their task to root out Poroshenko and his minions, though they didn't know exactly how many there were.
The evening ended nicely, they were all full of borscht and vodka, tired and ready for a change of scenery. Hermione looked forward to going home for a few weeks, but she also worried about her two new employees and their ability to do what she'd asked of Snape, Vance, and Finnegan so many times. For some reason, she felt the need to send Snape one last note before helping them to the border.
Dawn came quickly, too quickly for their heads which were pounding from the consumption of so much vodka the night before. Seamus showered first, they all took turns from there, trying to smell less like they'd lived in a cigarette filter for a month. After a quick breakfast, Hermione handed over identification to them, their new names and passports were pristine, and then enough money to get them started in St. Petersburg, which was not a cheap city.
"Keep this an owl with you at all times, but make sure you switch them up. I'm sure Poroshenko's men have been alerted that there will be people watching. Make the meet-up with McGillivray on Tuesday, please don't miss this, he's our best host right now." They nodded, looking a bit timid to says the least. Seamus handed them a cellphone, a burner the juggles called them, for emergencies only and they were gone. Hermione and Seamus waited for thirty minutes before they went back to their apartment and slept more. At midnight, they received an owl that they'd made it safely to the apartment in St. Petersburg, so Hermione slept calmly for the first night in weeks.
Tuesday came with several letters from their duo, McGillivray had shown and given them information that needed to be processed immediately, but Hermione was reluctant to meet them at the border this time, so she arranged a portkey and they arrived around six. Questions asked and personas verified, Hermione took the information, stunned to read what McGillivray had uncovered.
"The men they kidnapped, they're Scottish. Why were they in Ukraine? What does Poroshenko want with them?" It suddenly dawned on her why Shacklebolt had sent them so far away from Britain to deal with something, which at first hadn't seemed British jurisdiction, but now she knew.
"We have to find them." Seamus interjected, his fist slamming on the table. Hermione immediately sent a message to Shacklebolt and put the information from their informant in her bag. She then sent a message to Ron and Snape, saying she had to go to Russia to meet McGillivray to get more information, knowing full well neither of them would be pleased. Before bed, her mind racing, Hermione forced herself to meditate, to find her silence again, but just as soon as she'd found it, a black bag was over her face and she was stunned, unable to scream, unable to fight, she simply lay there in desperate fear, hoping beyond hope that her bag was still enchanted and that the letters made it to her fellows before the hideout was discovered.
"We will remove the blindfold when you stop kicking."She heard a voice say, but she wasn't kicking, she couldn't move. Perhaps Seamus or one of the others had been taken as well.
"Who are you?" She asked in the thickest Russian accent she could manage, unable to do much more than move her lips.
"That's of no importance, madam. We are curious who you are why you are hunting Sergei Poroshenko." She tried to think quickly, to come up with a cover story, one she'd had for years for just this situation.
"My husband wanted to know more, you see he's Bulgarian but he is Russian in his heart. He wants to know him, to follow him."
"What husband would send his wife to study someone like a spy?" A different man asked, his breath so foul she could smell it through the edge of the blindfold.
"A man who values his wife's brain." Tersely, she responded wishing she hadn't when the first blow hit her chin.
"Our women don't talk back." Another man, this one obviously not Russian, his accent sounded more Czech, said as he backhanded her, hitting her jaw so hard she thought she heard a snap.
"If you find my husband, he will tell you the truth." Hermione pleaded, sticking to her training as closely as possible.
"And what is his name?"
"Viktor, Viktor Krum." They laughed, smacked her again for good measure before throwing her into a cell, still blindfolded. She had no idea how long she'd been gone or if anyone else was with her. All she knew was this wasn't going to be easy and that if she didn't keep her head about her, she would fall into old habits and fail.
The next day someone came into the cell, she'd obviously peed all over herself with no way to relieve her bladder. It was humiliating, but more so when they cleaned her up and changed her clothes, not saying a word to her and keeping the blindfold on. They released her limbs but her legs were so wobbly without nourishment that she almost fell each time she took a step. Out of pure curiosity she walked the tiny cell and felt everything she could, sometimes when the light shined a particular way she could see through the blindfold at the bottom and watch her footing. Before they brought any water or food, though, she passed out on the concrete floor, crying.
Another week passed before Hermione had someone talk to her. They started bringing chicken broth and a square of bread once a day, but they kept the blindfold on and there was no way she could remove it. So far it was the only thing they'd done magically, that she could tell at least. She worried, with as long as it had been on, what it would mean if they removed the blindfold. Would she surely die? Contemplating her life, she spent many hours in prayer and meditation, trying to fight back against the fear, but some days were harder than others and she felt like she would never accomplish didn't harm her at first, aside from the initial interview, but sometimes a man would come in, she assumed it was a man because he didn't talk, and hold her arms tightly behind her back, raising them ever higher.
"Come with me, Mrs. Krum. You have a visitor." A voice, another one she hadn't heard before, pulled her from her cell and drug her down a hallway, turning three times to the right before opening a door on the left. He then removed the blindfold. It took several minutes for her eyes to adjust, but there across from her was Viktor Krum, looking as handsome as ever. She knew him being there meant not only had these men listened, that her own team was doing something to get her out. Viktor had been underground for over fifteen years; there's no way he would've been found by Poroshenko's men that easily.
"Wife." Viktor held his arms out and kissed her cheeks three times, alerting her that this was extremely dangerous.
"Husband."
"How could you disgrace me like this, Yulia? You were only supposed to ask around, not investigate a man as wonderful as Poroshenko." He slapped her then, hard and exactly where a bruise was barely healed. Her mouth bled, tasting of iron so badly she almost vomited.
"I do what you ask, Viktor, I tried to find him so we could help, but they took me." A guard behind her sat her down forcefully as a door, a second door opened and a tall, Russian man walked in. It couldn't be Poroshenko, this was much older.
"Your wife is our prisoner, Mr. Krum and we don't believe a word either of you are saying. Prove that you know of Sergei Poroshenko."
"My Uncle Youseli Davidovich invests in banks around Russia, Ukraine, and Bulgaria; we heard Poroshenko's name in Ivanovo a couple years back and with things the way they are in our region, we became more interested. We know his family has ties to the old regime and he wants to bring them back to power and we want to help." Hermione was impressed with how quickly whoever had been able to brief Viktor and get him to her.
"We will give you one week to produce your uncle and 10 million rubles." The man stuck out his hand and Viktor shook it, but soon he kissed Hermione passionately and whispered the code phrase, 'Away from the Sun', meaning if he didn't come back, she had to find a way to get to Poroshenko or free herself, this code always meant one was left to their own devices.
"Please, Viktor, take me with you! I'm sorry, I am a terrible wife, I don't deserve you."
"Think about what you've done. I'll see you in one week." He kissed her again and smacked her once more for good measure, this one not producing blood. She hated to see him go, the only link she knew of in this prison to the outside word and possibly salvation. They blindfolded her again, she only saw one of the men's profile but probably couldn't pick him out from a line up.
That evening in her cell, she went over the conversation again, playing it on continuous record in her head. Viktor really did have an uncle who invested in banks, that was how his career was funded until he got sponsors...her head spun, he couldn't really be involved? Surely he wouldn't have used the code phrase if he was determined to free her. Knots in her stomach, they didn't feed her that day.
The days drug on, they only came to bring her soup and bread, and once a week change out the pot she was forced to use to relieve herself. Her cycle had come earlier in the week and that embarrassment was almost too much to bear. Nothing in her training had prepared her for the duration of this mission as well as her time with Snape. Every morning, she assumed it was morning, she said a prayer for him, but they'd taken the amber as soon as they changed her clothes and she couldn't warn him, through at this point she was sure he knew. What felt like a week had already passed and Hermione knew, even with her shallow optimism, that Viktor wasn't coming back. Her heart almost gave out then, but she thought of Rose and Hugo, they'd be celebrating Halloween about now, she thought, and she wanted nothing more than to see and hold them. If they knew she was being held against her will, she was sure they were scared and she didn't want them to be. How desperately she wished she hadn't put herself in this position. At least once a week, they took her into a room where she was hurt, either by bending her arms in odd positions or her legs, she was thankful there had been no sexual abuse thus far. Some nights they choked her, letting her get her breath but then tightening a tourniquet tighter and tighter until she was sure her neck would break before she took a breath.
Just when she was sure things couldn't get worse, they took her into a different cell randomly one day, she assumed it was now November, and that that they were trying to keep her uncomfortable and unaware of her surroundings. It all snowballed from there. They admitted to not allowing Viktor to see her, though they did happily take his money. But worst of all, the torture started again. For wizards, she thought it awfully odd that they didn't use magical forms of torture, she hadn't seen one with a wand yet, though to be honest she hadn't seen much at all. They started with bending her fingers back, always the same question, 'Who are you?' . But she didn't give in, even after they broke both of her pinkies and ring finger, taking Ron's ring, she was surprised they'd let her keep it for so long. It only got worse from there, she was branded on her ankle twice with a shape she couldn't make out and then two of her toenails were removed...thankfully weeks passed between the really terrible tortures, almost as though they were going to keep her indefinitely, filling her with enough food to sustain but not thrive. At some point, they gave up the blindfold, the torturers were always the same, they still bagged her head to move her to interrogation, but she never heard anyone scream and had become convinced she was alone.
On one particularly bad evening, wherein Goyle, she'd nicknamed him that to get her through, had devised a particularly painful shoulder harness, she summoned the courage to ask him what day it was.
"It's Christmas, here's your present." He tightened the winch holding the metal in place and almost snapping her shoulder out of socket, she screamed so loudly she almost fainted. Her kids were home, probably waiting on her return, the divorce, had it gone through, did it matter? Her mind raced...how had so much time passed?
"If you would just tell us who you really are, you'd be out of here today. We know you aren't married to Viktor Krum and you aren't Bulgarian. Just tell us what you have on Poroshenko, and we will release you." But Hermione knew they were lying. A door opened to her left and she knew, instantly, that this was the man.
"Good evening, my dear. I finally get to meet you; don't seem so dangerous now that I see you." Hermione noted his tone, he was smooth this one but unlike the others, she could see his wand. When she didn't respond, he slapped her, like all the men seemed to enjoy. He had blonde hair and icy blue eyes with pronounced cheekbones and a well-fitted suit.
"You know I didn't have to keep you alive and I didn't let them use crucio, but you are obviously hiding something and you look so familiar. I know I've seen this face before. Alas, it is of no consequence. Your brethren have been hard at work trying to dismantle me and my followers, but they won't succeed."He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, making her insides boil. It was then that she placed his voice, he had been there the very first day, but she didn't remember meeting him another time. Perhaps after the Final battle, pictures had been in the newspapers, but they certainly wouldn't have published in Russia, right? And she normally wore a glamour, just in case.
"We have never met." She responded, using her fake accent to the best of her ability. He didn't say another word, but she was sure she now knew a way out; if she could use wandless magic of course. They threw her back in her cell and for the first time in weeks she had hope. She started that night, trying to move things or summon things, any stirring. At first she was too weak, so she tried harder right after her soup for the day, which she now realized could've had veritaserum, though she'd been to immune to it for years but in her weakness she was afraid she might say too much. She didn't know how many days passed, but with concentration, she could summon the bucket closer to her, she'd been doing wandless again with Severus and the guys for years. She had to get his wand, it was her only way out. She tried to ration the bread, saving it for a day when she thought interrogation would happen, but the next time she was interrogated he didn't show. Restless and angry, Hermione meditated and waited, hoping beyond hope that she would see her children again, her family, and Snape. How she wished she had the necklace.
"You have a guest." She heard as the door flew open. It was Poroshenko, distressed and angry.
"This is your last chance, who are you? What do you know?"
"I am Yulia Krum, my husband is Viktor Krum, we live in Bulgaria and have three children. I am just a housewife…" But he didn't let her finish, instead he shook her, harder than any other person had ever shook her. Disorientated, she tried to figure out how to get the wand, but he was too quick. She fell to the floor, her legs like jelly, trying to brace herself as he kicked her kidney, sending excruciating pain throughout her body. Facing him, she pooled all of her adrenaline and stupefied him but not before casting expelliarmus, bringing his wand into her possession, with which she immediately put a body bind on him and the guard at the door. She could barely stand, so she floated the guard's body into the cell and closed the door, concealing it completely and making it look like a supply closet. Working slowly down the hallway, she noticed one interrogation room, and then remembered the location spell. But her ankles were weak, her right feeling as though it would snap.
"Where is the exit?" She asked the wand, it jiggled slightly and pointed her, thank goodness it was growing darker because no one was in the halls. As she turned another corner, a man came out of what looked like a sofa, so she stunned him as well, trying to be as quiet as three people were gathered near the exit, one definitely had a wand but they weren't expecting her, which was an advantage she never thought she'd have in the situation. Before the wanded one could counter a spell, Hermione stupified him and stunned the others, placing them in full body binds.
Finally, she saw the exit, a massive metal door she couldn't quite push open even after it was unlocked, but eventually she managed, feeling the frigid temperatures of Russia hit her hard as the wind blew in. Sealing the door, she thought for a moment about the best way to get home, but the adrenaline was wearing thin and her weakness gained control. Looking around as she walked, hoping for a clue, and against all odds that they had been able to at least find the prison. Hermione saw in the distance a bottle of Coca Cola and laughed for a second, it was innocuous enough for people not to suspect it but obvious enough to be a portkey. She grabbed it and landed squarely in front of the ministry, she didn't even care if she had to take the guest entrance.