Author's note: So sorry it took me so long. School got in the way, and then two other fandoms snared me in (not complaining here) more recently. In fact I think you have those fandoms (Sky High and Gossip Girl - am I regressing into my high school self? Be scared, be very scared!) to thank for getting me to pick up a pencil again this month because I sure as hell haven't been doing anything but studying and working on assignments for school. University be damned!
Anyway. As always, do enjoy!
CHAPTER TEN : STANDSTILL
"And who is…?" one of them asked me, and although I could hear perfectly well, what I now saw before my eyes simply commanded all of my attention. How had Robin found us before we'd even arrived? This looked more and more like a planned ambush. She'd known we'd come here. That meant… she'd heard us discussing our plans in Buchanan's shack.
Even now I could see Buchanan approach his window in my mind's eye. There'd been an odd expression painted there, like… he knew someone was watching? He'd been alerted to a foreign presence outside? In the latter case he might have just chalked it up to some woodland animal. In the former case he might have just made sure Robin heard exactly what we said. Oh, this was too confusing.
"Wait," the man I'd pulled down said suddenly. Vaguely I recognised him as someone Harry had briefly introduced me to a few years ago. Tim? No, Tom. "Look at them. Look at them."
Ginny gasped. "Someone tell me I'm not dreaming."
They watched in silence as Buchanan and Robin fired one spell after another at Ron, who deflected each hit with impressive calm and strength. His movements were precise, unhurried, seemingly rehearsed. He blocked and parried each round, spells and hexes arcing in the air in front of him without end.
"Okay," Harry growled suddenly, all trace of the Confundus gone from his system as he rounded on me. "You tell us now, Hermione. What the hell are we dealing with? She talked about a prophecy. What prophecy?"
For a second I'd debated whether this was really the right time but when he mentioned the prophecy I tensed, going ramrod straight. Shit. Now they were in deep, too.
Yes, I decided then and there, they all needed to know what was at stake here if we wanted to take action. Maybe their expertise would help. Biting my lip, I dove straight in. "The prophecy talks about a band of extraordinarily gifted wizards," I began. "They can produce magic like we've never dreamed of, thanks to a traumatic near-death experience that, I think, releases all the dormant magical inhibitors we all have inside ourselves. They allow them to concentrate their energy into, well, that," I finished lamely, pointing to the scene at hand.
"But what are they?" Ginny breathed, her eyes locked on her brother warily. Indeed, Ron was scary the first time.
Well, now was the hardest part to sell. "Ron and Robin are members of the Guardian Brotherhood. Buchanan – that's the dark head – is from the Mage Society.
"Yes," I said dryly, "the legends are true and the proof is right there. But, getting back to the prophecy… Ron was supposed to fetch it for the Brotherhood but we lost it." To Buchanan, I wanted to add, but restrained myself for some unfathomable reason. "Now Ron's hunted by his own people and here we are."
As if to prove my point, Robin's voice thundered in the street. "Where is the prophecy, Honos?"
Harry stroked his cheek and stared at me a long moment, mulling over the facts I'd just spewed at them. "I'll buy that," he agreed at length. "It beats not being able to understand everything we've learned in the past few days. But what's in the prophecy?" he asked reluctantly.
Prophecies and Harry did not make good friends. If anything, the one that had plagued all of his teenaged years had only made him suspicious of them. They usually involved dreary events and deaths. In his experience, at least. In all of ours, I'd wager.
"It says that one Guardian will eliminate the threat of Mages," I answered as Robin's face contorted with fury. Ron's Body-Bind had finally hit home. I couldn't seem to feel any thrill at his having overpowered her. Even now Buchanan seemed hell-bent on bringing him down, too.
"How?" Tom asked, and I turned back to them.
"It only says that he is born thrice of fire in the twenty-first of Yaveh – this century, I suppose – and must find his soul," I answered distractedly, my ear trained to the sounds behind.
Suddenly a spell of Buchanan's rammed into Ron's chest, effectively slamming the air out of his lungs and drawing him to his knees in a wheezing breath.
Get up, Ron, get up. When nothing happened, I turned to the others. An unspoken agreement was immediately struck between my companions before they stood with me. As one, they drew their wands out. "Be careful," was my only advice before I rushed Buchanan, effectively knocking him off-balance and to the side.
"Get the fuck off me!" was his instant spiel in my face as I jabbed my wand jerkily into his throat.
Glaring, I bent low. "Give me one damn reason…" I growled, pressing down harder. The betraying bastard! He expected me to just let him go his merry way? What did he think I was… thick?
"Have it your way, and by the way – watch out!" In a split instant he rolled me under him and sprang a hex toward an approaching – and unfrozen – Robin who ducked out of the way.
Buchanan was not to be defeated; he jumped to him feet and caught up to her. Apparently, the others had reached them as well with such intent that, for a brief moment, I saw Robin's first show of true human emotion… Fear. Complete, unadulterated fear in the face of such a head-on attack, even by mere "regulars".
"Get the fuck away from me!" I heard her screech as I stumbled to Ron who was sitting up with some difficulty.
"Tell me where you hurt," I demanded of Ron immediately, patting and prodding whatever limb I could find. My fingers were shaky for the second time that very same day, but I dared not slow down for fear of letting the terror I knew would seep in if I did. I had to be business-like and in control. How hard could it be, really?
Ron pointed to his chest, and I deftly ripped his shirt open to prod. For once he didn't putter around trying to ignore the pain. This told me clearly he was way past his pain threshold. At his hiss I pointed my wand at the affected sternum, hoping my Healing spell would work despite my blatant lack of talent in that area.
Idly I lifted my head to survey the unfolding events and found the others had overpowered Robin – oh, not magically, she could take them all. The good thing with humans is, we feel. I'm sure Robin was cursing her emotions, because they currently hindered her rational thinking. Because she hadn't had as much training as, say, Ron, she wasn't used to such nerve-wracking situations as the one she was currently stuck in. The Elder Aine would have to suffer another defeat because it seemed like the Syn Wyngyn foursome were getting to her. Without her head to direct her actions, she was quickly subdued as Harry and company shot spell after spell after her.
"How's your little problem?" Ron grunted suddenly, jolting me back to his prone form under me. He eyed me critically, studying my features for telltale reactions but… to be honest there was so much going on that my innards hadn't manifested themselves besides clenching at the right moments when things had gotten dangerous for Ron.
"Good, actually. You? Can you sit up?" He did, slowly at first then with more confidence.
"I think she's about to bolt." I hadn't even realised Buchanan had stayed but then I realised he'd been helping me Heal Ron. Decidedly, one could go loopy from trying to follow his allegiances. Well, at least there was never a dull moment. Speechless, I jerked my head a little in a thankful gesture that he returned grimly. The next instant he glanced up, cursed, and was gone. We watched him reappear next to Robin, who screamed as she was grabbed from behind. Then… nothing.
"She's gone!" Ginny yelled in disbelief, running toward us. Buchanan, too, had disappeared. As she reached our spot, she froze, catching her brother's eye, and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Is… is that really you?" she murmured, falling to her knees before him.
Of course, now that the danger seemed to have passed, she was finally able to breathe and think.
"I… I wanted to believe you were still…" Ginny started again haltingly, drawing closer and touching his cheek. Her hand was featherlight on his skin, almost as if she were afraid he would disintegrate into dust under her fingertips.
Frozen, Ron blinked as she burrowed deeper into his chest, squeezing like she never wanted to let go.
"But I was scared of what I'd find. I thought it'd be easier if I found out… the truth." Her lips had started trembling at the last, and though it was hard to imagine strong, tenacious Ginny Weasley crying, the tears suddenly welled in her eyes and she threw herself at Ron.
I watched him closely for his reaction to his tearful reunion with his little sister. At first he seemed at a loss for what to do. It was long in coming, but Ron finally hugged Ginny back fiercely after a moment, muttering in her hair, "I missed you, Ginbug."
An open sob wracked Ginny's body. "I missed you too, prat," she replied before thumping his shoulder and drawing back, beaming through her tears. "Now what?"
Harry approached then, clasping Ron's arm to pull him up. A wide grin stretched his lips. "They're her two favourite words," he imparted proudly, glancing at Ginny with a twinkle in his eye.
Well, that made me rear back. That hadn't been the business-like glance that politely said, "glad things are good, let's get back on track shall we?" There was definitely something there…
Ron, oblivious as always, scanned the street. Now that the Muggle-repelling charm had lifted after Robin's departure – I'll hand it to her, she at least had had the decency to hide this clusterfuck from prying eyes – Muggles had started to pour out of their homes in droves, pointing and gasping at the destruction in the vicinity in hushed whispers. Robin hadn't thought about that, had she.
"Where's Buchanan?" Ron suddenly wondered aloud.
"Disappeared with Robin," I replied quietly, wondering even as I did whether that was good or bad. After all, he had helped me Heal Ron without even attempting to wound him further. Unless he operated under my defenses. Frowning, I glanced back at Ron, assessing his posture and anything else that might look off.
No, nothing.
At that moment I decided on the spot that I hated probably double agents. They were hell on the nerves.
"She's never gone out of the Coven before this, as far as I know," Ron continued, stroking his scruffed chin thoughtfully.
"She might have been at Buchanan's when –"
Ron cut into my thoughts, snapping his fingers. "We were talking about following you all here," he finished, nodding his head at the Syn Wyngyn foursome. "But she wouldn't have gone back there. She'd go –"
"Somewhere she wouldn't feel outnumbered," I deadpanned automatically. I saw the logic in that thought – she'd felt vastly incapacitated when Harry, Ginny and the rest had started in on her. "The Coven, then?"
Ron nodded somberly.
Oh, dear. If we'd previously had a hope of bringing the Coven down unawares, it had just gotten a little more complicated. Take, for one, the fact that now they'd know we were on to them thanks to Robin's little eavesdropping. Take the fact that their total magical power was vastly superior to our little band's and… we were screwed, in so many words.
"Where is this Coven?" Harry asked when the silence had stretched so long it seemed ready to snap.
Tom spoke up from behind Harry. "Er, mate, you sure you want to get into this? Because from what we just saw, we'll have our arses handed to us on a silver platter if we land in a room full of that."
I watched Harry lock his jaw and grind his teeth. He'd gone into pensive mode, eyes locked onto his newly-found best mate as though afraid Ron would disappear from right under his nose again.
"What's your name?" Ron asked curtly before Tom could think to add more.
"Tom Hopkinks, why?" the other replied with a wary frown.
Ron cocked his head, pegging him with an intense flare of annoyance. "Because I don't need cowards. You?" He pointed to the woman next to Hopkins who'd hardly spoken or moved during the exchange.
"Miranda Anto," she muttered quietly, to which Ron merely nodded distractedly.
"You'd better make up your minds now," Ron growled at them all when it seemed they'd reached a standstill of undecisiveness.
"You know I'm with you," I supplied gently, slipping my hand into his and squeezing the tension out of his fingers. They relaxed visibly in my grasp, and I was pleasantly surprised when he even brushed his thumb over our linked fingers.
Without a word, he pegged the rest with a hard stare, his impatience passing like current in my hand. We were wasting precious time…
"I'm in," Harry breathed with a nod, then clasped Ron's hand. Years of potent friendship were revived in that fierce grasp.
Ginny merely nodded, and though she was second to voice her decision, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would have followed her brother to the end of the Earth, years apart be damned.
Miranda took a long look at Ginny and then nodded as well; Tom glanced broodingly at his partner and grudgingly agreed.
And so we were off. "Take my arm," Ron instructed before the first tingles of his powering up fluttered into my body. I tightened my hold on his hand and prepared myself for… well, maybe-nausea as I saw everyone else grab hold of his other arm. The familiar gut-wrenching sensation rolled into me, and finally we shattered through space.
#
The next few instants were a blur. As we rematerialised inside the Coven's austere entrance hall, a sound to my right arrested me just before I could begin searching for Robin and Buchanan. They'd also Apparated inside the hall from what I could feel.
Anyway. The sound. A breath catching painfully. Buchanan's, to be exact. Robin held him bodily against the wall, a hand shoved up to press against his windpipe. As Ron turned to the sound, the rest of us all did, too, witnesses to Buchanan's quickly reddening face and his captor's sickly triumphant grin. Oh, she was proud, the chit. Her first successful mission, wasn't it? Mummy would be so proud.
"All this for a prophecy… Ron," she nagged sweetly. "You could have simply done your job right and handed it over. None of this would have happened. But no, the great Honos, in whom the whole Circle vested so much trust, got cold feet. I've always wondered whether you were really all that cut out for the Brotherhood. Someone must have made a mistake. I should have been the one from the start. I'd been there longer, ever since I was a kid."
"What on earth are you talking about?" Ron demanded levelly.
She grinned wider, and I could have called her a gorgeous young woman if it hadn't been for that trace of malice in her eyes. "They never told you? Now that's a lark."
Ron glanced at me, unease beginning to settle onto his features, his stance. Suddenly we were on moving ground again, whipped with the unknown. How many more secrets did we have yet to discover? How bad would this one get? My insides knotted as we waited for her to continue, and I tasted bitter misgivings.
Robin chuckled gently, as one might at a particularly troublesome child. "Mother read me the prophecy as a child, told me I might live up to its words. Now, how does it go again? Ah…
"A legend, older than wizardry itself
Tells that the Brotherhood of Guardians
Will prosper for one thousand years, teaching
Their brethren to serve the greater good.
The Circle of Elders warns that a rogue cohort
Shall pursue the Brotherhood on a wind of betrayal
And cast it and its legendary warriors into darkness.
But fear not despair –"
Robin cut herself off with a laugh. "And this is the best part:
"But fear not despair, children of Odin
For the one born thrice of fire
In the twenty-first of Yahve
Shall prevail when he finds his soul.
Then shall the Guardian Brotherhood
Thrive for a thousand years more."
Pausing for effect, Robin tightened her hold on Buchanan, who wheezed a moment before turning red and coughing. "Sorry," she said without feeling. "So you see, I was born in the twenty-first century after Christ, I have never lost my soul, and I was born thrice of fire: in a broken home, from a C-section, and I manifested my higher powers when my father drove us into a tree. Course, he died in the ensuing fire, but I sparked to power then."
A melancholy smile graced her lips at the memory until she got a grip on herself, her eyes hardened to stone as they settled onto Ron once more. "You had no right to become a Guardian! Now they think it's you!"
"Me what?" Ron thundered, and the sound echoed dully in the bare hall, the words reverberating as though from another realm. What… what… what…
It's you, I thought, the words sticking in my brain incessantly. Twenty-first century. Finds his soul… mate? Or something less obvious. Soul… I scrounged my memories, trying to grasp onto something that could explain the riddle, fast. True reality elevates the soul. Where had I learned that? Inconsequential.
Soul. Truth. When he finds his truth.
Born thrice of fire. Two were obvious. Born a redhead. Born during the First War against Voldemort. And… The next one was more difficult. I looked to Ron, trying to recall past conversations.
Mrs. Weasley had told me once… "As for Ronnie here…" I whispered her words to myself. I never should have checked the clock, it was bad for the baby. But I did. Gideon and Fabian's arrows wouldn't stop spinning. So I grabbed some Floo powder and stepped into the fire. And that's when I had my first contractions… The stress, you know…
Stymied, I clutched Ron's hand hard. "She's right," I said softly, hoarsely.
"What?" Ron frowned down at me, confusion scrunching his face.
In that short instant when Ron's attention had snapped, Robin released a sputtering Buchanan, murder and intent burning in her eyes. As she aimed at Ron, I instinctively pointed my wand at her chest, crying whatever spell first came to mind. "Impedimenta!" Several other spells followed afterward, and I smiled, thinking that a reincarnation of Dumbledore's Army had just been revived.
The assault merely made her flinch, though it bought Ron enough time to turn and fire his own spell before she could react and protect herself. "IMPEDIMENTA!" he yelled, and the walls shook from the sheer volume of his voice. This time the spell did its job well, and we all watched as she flew clear into the air, crashing headlong into a wall.
"Wow. Shit," came Hopkins's awed remark.
Ginny merely ran up to Ron, throwing herself into his arms.
But one person had a grim face as he straightened with difficulty, wheezing with a flinch. I walked over to Buchanan, hesitating to offer a hand in comfort and thanks. "Are you okay?" I asked instead, wincing at the awkwardness in my tone.
He shook his head grimly, and for the first time he truly looked into my eyes. what I saw in his gaze frightened me. Urgency. "Something's wrong here," he rasped without any of his usual derisory inflection. "This… this is my Coven. I don't understand how she could have taken me here."
"What?"
But his eyes widened, and suddenly he pulled me behind him as the twin jets penetrated his chest. Before him stood Aine. Beyond, her daughter lay crumpled against the wall, a shit-eating grin stretching her rosy lips and a low chuckle escaping them. A dozen of dark hooded figures awaited in the shadows.
Buchanan's body reared, twisting at an unnatural angle, before it suddenly fell in a lifeless heap at my feet.
I forgot how to talk, much less yell. My body wasn't under my command anymore, and I experienced white-hot fear that paralysed all thought but one: we're all going to die.
The entire occupants of the hall stood quite still, a heavy lull of disbelief falling over us all as we waited, waited for the last pin to fall. Cold enveloped me at the thought that we were all powerless. Even Ron, who was our last hope, was no match against them all.
This was it. The end.
"So you see," Aine spoke up, her clear, husky voice carrying and caressing tenderly, "the deception is no more. For centuries, the Circle waited for one to rise and defeat the others. We wondered… would it be a Guardian? A Mage? We studied every newcomer's history, hoping they would fulfill the prophecy.
"In this century, only three have survived to this day. I simply quickened the process of elimination." She paused, eyeing Buchanan's body with irked distate, then looked up and pegged Ron with a fierce, piercing gaze that was entirely her own. "As Fate would seem to have it, two Guardians now remain."
A slow smile split her lips. "Let the games begin."
#
Ron swallowed hard and tore away from Ginny as Robin slid up off the wall, swaying slightly on her feet.
"It'll be me," she said searingly, aiming a spell that rebounded off her target easily.
He didn't reply, merely stared back, awaiting her next offensive.
"You think you're more powerful than I am?" she snapped defiantly with another paralysing hex that missed him by an inch. "My mother is an Elder. I am powerful!"
"These powers aren't handed down, Robin," Ron pointed out calmly.
"You don't deserve them, you – you –" Her scream suddenly rent the air, a desperate cry of the soul, before her eyes moved over the little group huddled together out of harm's way. It took a second, and Ron had no time to react as the spell shot out of her outstretched hand… green.
"NO!"
#
He didn't know whom it killed, but nothing mattered anymore, nothing more than ending this contest now.
I'm no angel.
It had to be done, he finally realised, understanding. The pressure alone would kill him, but he had to die.
He is ready.
The whole room closed in on him, shadowed figures moving as one in one suffocating mass. He felt them all as infinitely small pawns as the magic rumbled in him, rendering them powerless against the sheer energy that enveloped him. they moved so slow, so slow. Every millisecond he felt death like the Circle he'd once looked up to gaining reign on him. And then… warmth enclosed his hand.
Hermione.
"We'll siphon," she whispered as more warmth wrapped around his hands. Four. Five in all. And then he cried out, unable to hold it in any longer. Death escaped him outward as an explosion that rendered all but those he sheltered to dust.