AN: Because it's been a frighteningly long while (more explanation at end of the chapter), here is a brief summary of the events so far (as suggested by guest reviewer pokeyball, whose kind review almost made me cry):

Adela Lancaster, a solicitor in Hermione Granger's law firm, is unwittingly caught up in an involved revenge plot (of course). Ragnuk, a goblin thirsting for vengeance on the wizarding world that has slighted goblins for millennia, has joined forces with the werewolf Greyback. Together, the goblin and werewolf enlist the help of Andrei and Aleksandra, Bulgarian siblings, to steal phoenix feathers and other materials necessary to produce wands. Andrei dies and Aleksandra soon turns to runes, a dangerous and volatile magic. She is soon revealed to be the mysterious patient housed in St. Mungo's, and Adela confronts Al. Now, Adela and Al must go to the giants to prevent them from joining Ragnuk's forces.

Make Adela Suffer Day

"Why in Merlin's bloody beard is Aleksandra lying unconscious in St. Mungo's?"

Al's expression shuttered. "You found out," he said simply, not moving to extract himself from my hold.

I bared my teeth before stepping back abruptly. Al stood still, staring at me solemnly. At least he had the grace not to feign injury.

"Yes, I found out," I seethed, my hands clenched into tight fists. "Now, why is the Ministry keeping a volatile witch with unidentified runes in a building filled with injured patients?"

He remained silent, his face stony.

I stared at him disbelievingly for six seconds. Did he not see the monumental idiocy of this plan? This was magic none of us understood, and the Ministry was keeping her in the heart of the wizarding world. Aleksandra ought to be in isolation!

What had happened to the Al I lo-erm, the one who actually had a conscience?

I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me, causing my shoulders to droop. I didn't have time to argue with someone who refused to see reason. Even Numberita couldn't accomplish changing Al's mind.

I turned abruptly, fed up with...not Al, exactly, but with the Ministry's reticence and, if I was being honest, with my own failure to have foreseen this. This was the Ministry - of course they weren't going to leave Aleksandra alone. They probably wished to experiment on her or, at the very least, study her. Knowing the Ministry, they couldn't bear to leave such a powerful and unknown source of magic untapped. Still, that didn't explain why they'd felt the need to keep Aleksandra in St. Mungo's.

Looking determinedly at the wall opposite Al, I said stiffly, "We should get going. The sooner we get to the giants, the better."

"Adela-" he said, and I knew if I looked at him I would be lost. So, I came up with the simple (if a bit immature) solution: I conjured a large unicorn mask (covered in pink and red sequins because I was petty) and set it firmly over his head.

"Adela," he said again, but this time his tone was decidedly less gentle.

I heard muffled sounds of frustration as he struggled to tug the mask from his head. I turned slightly, peering at him from lowered lashes, and stifled a laugh. Merlin, I ought to consider going into the mask business if I got out of this alive. Large, blinking blue and green flowers bloomed on the forehead, and the large, spiraling pink horn twinkled with glitter.

After another three seconds, Al succeeded in yanking the mask from his head, and I was disappointed to see that, with his hair disheveled and his green eyes glinting angrily, he was as striking as ever.

Drat.

He looked at the mask in disbelief for eight long seconds, and I fidgeted. Perhaps the mask had been a bad idea. We were, after all, in the middle of what could very well develop into a war. The mask let out another loud honking noise, and I winced.

Right, mask was definitely a mistake. Note to self: work on comedic timing.

"Flowers were a nice touch," he said finally, plucking one of the twirling blossoms from the mask and spinning it through his fingers.

I blinked. "Yes, I thought so too," I said. "Now that you're in a good mood-"

At his disbelieving snort, I hurriedly continued, "-why is the Ministry being so foolish? Surely you see the major risks of keeping Aleksandra in St. Mungo's."

Al's mouth thinned. "Adela, you're asking the impossible."

"What's impossible, Al? That you actually talk to me?" My words, which I'd said louder than I had meant to, echoed, and I flinched instinctively, my hand tightening around my wand.

When no goblin or werewolf came running, I lowered my voice, hissing, "Look, yes, I'm angry, but I'm angry at the Ministry, not you. I understand that you're doing your job. I'm just angry that that job is requiring you to do unbelievably idiotic things."

"Adela, I am the Ministry," he said quietly, his green eyes unreadable in the dark shadows of the Ministry lobby. He gestured at the small golden M embroidered on his shirt.

Numberita conjured a rather inappropriately timed image of a Muggle villain clad in similarly dark attire (albeit in a considerably less fashionable mask) -

I shook my head vigorously, dispelling the image.

Al paused, his dark brows furrowing, before groaning. "Trust you to see Star Wars references even as the world is going to hell."

I sniffed, saying, "Begone, Skywalker."

He muttered something about strangling Rose for introducing me to Muggle movies before stepping forward, forcing me to crane my neck to maintain eye contact. Curse our height difference - I needed to be able to establish dominance through staring him down, damn it. Or, at least, that was what all the animal safari books I'd read had said. The strategy hadn't really worked with Rose (she'd asked me if I needed medical assistance), but it was worth a shot.

Merlin, I was getting side-tracked again.

Al reached into his pocket, extracting a blue velvet pouch. "Are you ready?"

"Born ready," I said, forcing a smile.

"Well, I'm bloody terrified," Al said, "but I'm glad you're with me."

I blinked, sure I had misheard him, but before I could ask him to repeat himself, he tipped a small, pastel pink cow from the bag and pressed it into the palm of my hand.

And we were gone, the pristine cold of the Ministry lobby vanishing in a muddied swirl of voices and smells.

After six seconds of disorienting panic (Merlin, I hated using Portkeys), I landed heavily on something warm and firm, my hands adhering themselves firmly to a head full of tousled black hair.

"Mrmp - geroff," came a garbled protest.

Oops.

I scrambled hurriedly off of the Auror's back, my cheeks red, and stood, surveying our surroundings. The Portkey had dropped us at the mouth of a cave eight meters wide and nine and three fifths meters tall. The rock was slate grey and streaked with darker veins, the jagged surface covered in dull moss. Although the setting sun threw haphazard arcs of crimson onto the faceted rock guarding the entrance, no light penetrated the thick, oily gloom inside. The cave was set at the top of a hill and was surrounded by a rock outcropping that made me feel tiny in comparison.

Feeling a light touch on my arm, I looked 8˚ northwest and saw Al staring intently at the shrouded entrance.

"Do you have night vision, now?" I hissed. "Is that another gift from your Ministry?"

Al glanced at me, his eyes cold, and I winced - Merlin, what was wrong with me? Why was I trying to push him away?

Perhaps I ought to invest in a shirt stating "DOWN WITH THE MINISTRY." Of course, that would make Kingsley hate me. And/or put me on some mysterious black list, which was sure to end in my convenient demise, probably at the hands of giant, spherical death weapons.

...Okay, maybe I was watching too many Muggle movies.

Thankfully, Al didn't respond to my barb. Instead, the Auror tugged me lightly to the side, and I followed without complaint - standing directly in front of the cave's entrance had made me feel vulnerable, anyway.

"I'm going to grab their attention," Al whispered, looking resolute.

I blinked. "How are you going to do that?"

He doesn't get the chance to answer, however, for two seconds later a dull thud came from somewhere deep within the cave.

I tensed instantly, my fingers curling firmly around my wand, and pressed myself against the cold rock. The sun had almost completely set, and I found myself longing for the sun's warmth as the stone's cold seeped into my flesh.

"-being so loud!"

Hearing the muffled shout, I crouched, my breath coming in short rasps, and reached forward towards Al's back. To my surprise, he was doing the same, and our arms collided clumsily in the scant nine centimeters between us. He glanced backwards, an odd expression on his face, and mouthed, "You okay?"

I nodded, wrenching my hand back, and gestured towards the cave's entrance. We ought to be listening - who knew when we'd get another chance to get an unfiltered account of the giants' true feelings. He nodded, creeping twelve centimeters closer to the entrance.

"But the goblin tells the truth. Humans rob us of magic," came an answering growl.

I cursed inwardly; Ragnuk had already gotten to them. I could only hope that he hadn't convinced them, yet. I cast a look at the small lump protruding from Al's robes - whatever gift he had to offer the giants had to be absolutely unbeatable. If not…

I couldn't bring myself to consider the alternative. Instead, I crept twenty centimeters closer to the cave's entrance, stopping just two centimeters from Al's back, and listened as the first voice said, "Goblin might lie."

I nodded vigorously - yeah, Voice One!

The second voice let out a low, harsh laugh. I winced; the sound was worse than Seth's singing, and that was saying something. "Wizards lie. They promised mercy after the war and banished us all to the mountains. Is that mercy?"

This summoned a low rumble of agreement, and I realized with a sickening start that there must have been at least five giants in the cave. Two, we could possibly take. Five? Not so much.

As the giants began to bicker in earnest, I tugged lightly on Al's arm. He bent down, allowing me to whisper in his ear, "Is that gift enough to convince a cave full of angry giants?"

He bit his lip, and that was all the answer I needed. "Merlin's beard," I murmured. "What is it? A neverending light?"

Al's eyes widened, and I resisted the urge to smack my head against the cave's exterior. "Really? They gave a bloody nightlight?"

Before Al could respond, however, I heard a loud crack come from somewhere down the hill.

"That sounded like a Portkey," I said, struggling to keep my voice quiet.

Al nodded, looking grim, and motioned for me to move backwards. I scrambled back six paces and tucked myself into a shallow hollow in the cave's exterior. Al wedged himself in beside me just as a solitary figure emerged, looking slightly out of breath from the climb.

The man - boy, really - paused to regard the cave's entrance. He brushed some white-gray debris from his long blonde hair and adjusted his grip on a large satchel. I knew this boy. Numberita summoned several disjointed memories - a boy wearing a university sweatshirt in Muggle London...ginger pumpkin delights…

I remembered seeing him outside of Effie's all those weeks ago.

"Luke," I breathed.

Al shot me a confused look. "You know this bloke?" he murmured, his lips barely moving.

I nodded, Numberita struggling to find a reason for a Muggle to be hundreds of kilometers away from the closest Muggle civilization.

"Yeah, I know him," I said quietly. "He's a Muggle...or, at least, I thought he was."

We watched as Luke rummaged through the satchel and extracted a wand. Okay, so maybe the Muggle thing was false. Why had Luke pretended to be a Muggle? He must have known that Xavier and I weren't Muggles.

Luke stared at the wand for seven seconds, an odd expression - longing? - creasing his brow. Then, with a sigh, he tucked the wand back into his satchel and began walking towards the cave's entrance.

"That can't be good," I muttered.

"No," Al said, pushing himself from the stone. "It can't."

"What are you doing?" I hissed, hurrying after him.

"Improvising," he said, and he had the nerve to wink.

Unbelievable.

Al surged forward, his wand raised high. Luke turned, his hazel eyes widening when he saw the Auror bearing down on him. To my great surprise, he didn't reach for the wand in his satchel. Instead, Luke dove to the ground, narrowly missing Al's hex.

Something wasn't right. Before I could work out what was off, however, Al landed a silent Petrificus Totalus, and Luke fell, motionless, to the rocky ground.

I approached his prone body carefully, keeping my wand pointed towards his heart. I saw his eyes land on me and the recognition that followed.

Sparing a glance back at the cave's entrance, which was thankfully still lacked giants, I knelt. "Why didn't you block that hex?" I whispered, brow furrowed. He had a wand - we'd all seen it. Resentment flashed in his eyes.

"I'm going to let him speak," I said quietly.

"What? Adela, he's going to yell," Al hissed, coming up behind me.

I looked at Luke. It was no wonder that I'd thought him a normal university student all those weeks before - he looked so young. His blonde hair flopped forward, covering most of his forehead, and his face was free of the dark shadows that curved under my own eyes.

"Be ready to silence him, then," I said.

"Adela-"

"Please, Al. I need answers."

Al studied me quietly for five seconds before nodding slightly, his jaw tense.

"Alright," I said, feeling sweat run down my back. This was the moment where either a) Luke cooperated, I got answers, and we all were happy or b) Adela's plan failed miserably and Luke screamed, summoning dozens of bloodthirsty giants and Adela became dinner.

I could only hope that I tasted foul.

"On three. One...two...three." I tapped my wand against Luke's lips, freeing only his mouth.

"Ginger," he said once he'd stopped spitting gravel forcefully from his mouth. Huh. He sounded surprisingly amicable, considering he was facing his two captors.

"Luke," I said, and the not-Muggle grinned.

"You remembered," he said.

Al made an impatient noise. "Why are you here?" he demanded, his wand never lowering.

Luke glared at the Auror, spitting more gravel in his direction.

"Because of you," he said.

"Because of us?"

"Yes," Luke said angrily. "Because of wizards who take advantage of us Squibs."

A Squib. Merlin, how many groups felt the weight of magical oppression? I was ashamed to admit that I hadn't devoted any thought to Squibs. They were rare and, whenever I did come across one, I'd experienced a moment of pity before moving on. How much of this war was our own bloody fault?

"You're allied with Ragnuk, then," Al said, his voice cold.

"And why do you think that is, Auror? You wizards think you are gods, wielding wands like they give you absolute power. Does it make you feel good to have entrapped someone with no magical power of his own? Does it make you feel powerful?"

A muscle in Al's jaw began to twitch, and I saw his knuckles whiten around his wand.

"Yeah," Luke spat. "I thought so."

Despite myself, my wand began to lower. Maybe we were bullies. Still, that didn't justify a full blown war...but I'd seen the Ministry's intransigence myself. Perhaps this had been the only way to effect change. I thought back to the day I'd first received my Hogwarts letter. I had been so happy, so eager to make my parents proud. Luke had never gotten to experience that. I wondered if he'd known he was a Squib before that day or whether the lack of letter had been a nasty surprise.

I felt Al's arm brush against mine. "We need to take him back to the Ministry," he murmured.

My stomach twisted. "Al, I-"

"-EXPELLIARMUS!"

My wand wrenched itself from my sweaty grip, and I flung myself to the side in anticipation of whatever curse was surely headed my way. When no burst of magic seared the air, I looked up tentatively, eyes widening when I saw the muscular wizard standing three meters to my right. He looked at the two wands - one short and light, the other a slender, dark brown - he now clutched in his hand, looking a bit surprised and more than a little nervous.

"Xavier," I said, and my shock rapidly turned to anger. "What happened to staying out of everything? I thought you escaped to Muggle London to avoid all of this," I demanded. I could see Al inching towards the wizard out of the corner of my eye - I just needed to keep Xavier distracted long enough for Al to get within reach.

Xavier's lips thinned. "You wouldn't understand," he said and, looking directly at Al, he conjured several thick, sinuous lengths of rope.

Well, this was just bloody fantastic.

I scrambled to my feet, almost tripping over Luke's body, and began half-running, half-falling down the hill. As jagged rocks bit hungrily into my bare hands and torn knees, I couldn't help but wonder what cruel, cruel person had decided that today was "Make Adela Suffer Day."

Note to self: send Vane after said person.

I had just reached the halfway point (and successfully swallowed what felt like two cauldrons' worth of dust) when I felt something grip my ankle tight. I was down in the next second, my chin slamming painfully against a bone white rock (at least I hoped it was a rock).

"No," I gasped, my breath rasping against my cracked lips, and I began hauling myself forward. My fingers scrabbled uselessly against the hard-packed earth as my body scraped against the ground.

Three seconds later, I was bound from my ankles to my neck in scratchy, thick rope. I stared up at the clouds looming above, blinking tears of frustration from my eyes. Merlin. I was sick and tired of getting captured. At this point, I was sure that, if there had been a N.E.W.T. in "getting yourself captured like a bumbling idiot," I would have passed it with flying colours.

Luke's head appeared suddenly above me, and he pulled his lips up in a mockery of a smile. It was not a pleasant expression. "I knew you'd be on your knees at some point," he said.

Prick.

"I'm on my back, arsehole," I snapped, and his expression darkened.

"Do you not see your hypocrisy?" came a familiarly dry voice from somewhere towards my right. Al. My heart sank, and I craned my neck, struggling to see the Auror. I'd hoped, from his silence, that he'd escaped, but it seemed even that was too much to ask for.

"Fine. GOLGOMATH!"

What in Merlin's bloody beard was a Golgomath?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The ground began to shudder, and I let my eyes flutter shut for a second. Golgomath was a giant. Great. That was all this lovely reunion was missing - a large, bloodthirsty creature with the power to crush my skull between his toes.

Luke's head disappeared from my line of sight, and I took the opportunity to begin rolling myself in a random direction. I had no idea where I was going (hopefully not towards Golgomath's toes), but at least I was doing something.

I only made it thirty centimeters east before colliding with something decidedly pungent.

A large, bloodshot eye loomed above me, and I cringed. "Er, hello, Golgomath," I tried, flashing a smile. "Like lights?"

The giant drew dangerously close to my face, allowing me to trace the jagged red veins creasing the yellow-white of his eye. "Die, wizard scum," came a loud rumble, and I almost gagged at the stench.

"I guess that's a no," I muttered.

I had just enough time - three seconds - to wonder whether someone had placed a "Kidnap Adela! She'll love it!" sign on my back before everything went black.

AN: So, uh, it's been a while. First of all: I am so, so sorry for the prolonged delay. I had some major life changes, and when I finally had some free time, I found I was too guilty/road-blocked to write. That being said, I have a few days of relative freedom and am determined to write as much as I can. I have officially planned out this story to its end! Second of all: Thank you all so very much for all of your continued support. I'm astounded that so many people are still reading and commenting on this story. You guys are beyond amazing. Thank you.