As usual, my beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.

Chapter 31: The Decoy

Black Lake, Scotland, October 20th, 2005

After a week of watching Hermione perform magic rituals, Ron had become slightly nonchalant about them. Not bored - they were still a sight to behold - but he wasn't as tense as he used to be. These days, he no longer expected trouble to start at any moment. He still was alert, of course - Moody's training had ensured that he wouldn't be lax just because something looked safe.

It helped, of course, that the ventilation system had been improved so that the incense didn't fill the entire lab any more. And the lighting adjustment meant that the whole ritual looked more clinical, more like a science experiment than a 'summoning of dark forces', as well.

Most importantly, though, Hermione had changed the formula, as she called it, and now the room didn't warp any more. Instead, tiny lights appeared in the middle of the quantum mirror cage - or danced over its frame.

He still felt a shiver run down his spine when Hermione stood and raised her arms above her head, and her chanting grew louder and louder until she was yelling. This was the climax. If anything went wrong, it would do so now.

But it didn't. Once more, a tiny glimmering light appeared in the centre of the cage. Like yesterday and the day before. He took a deep breath, then froze. Was the light growing brighter? He blinked - yes. Yes, it was. And it was growing in size as well. He blinked again - it was so bright, he had trouble focusing on it now, even squinting. And…

It vanished.

And Hermione was on her knees, panting. That hadn't happened during the last few rituals, either.

"Hermione! What did you do?" he snapped as he hurried towards her.

She took a deep breath, then sighed with her eyes closed before answering. "The link between the cage and the ritual worked. It was a bit more exhausting than I expected, though."

That didn't sound good - or safe. His expression must have betrayed his thoughts, or she knew him so well she could guess, since she went on: "I wasn't in any real danger - the limits were well defined."

"For this experiment."

"Yes."

That meant the limits would have to be expanded for the real deal.

She got up, but her legs were shaking, so he helped her stand. "Thanks."

He grunted in reply.

"I'll have to adjust the ritual a little more, but we're getting close."

"Close enough to open a tiny hole for a tiny period of time?" he asked.

"I'll have to check my data to answer that." She was beaming at him, so she hoped it was the case.

He smiled at her in return. This was good news - excellent news, really. They needed access to her world to deal with their problems here. The meeting with their families had helped, of course - it felt good to be able to talk to his parents without having to lie to them. That was probably the reason Dumbledore had set it up. But they were still in danger. Still being forced to hide. And they still didn't know anything about the state of Hermione's world, or her friends and family.

She sat down at her desk and quickly lost herself in the columns of data scrolling across the screen. "Oh… that's looking good. Very good," she mumbled.

Safely behind her, where she couldn't see his face, he let his smile fade and sighed. He still didn't know what Hermione would do when she returned to her world. It was pointless to ask before they knew the situation in her world, of course. At least he told himself that.

"Yes! Yes! It worked as planned!"

He forced the thought away when Hermione whirled and hugged him, holding her while she babbled about the experiment. There was no point in worrying about something he couldn't change.

"...and while the portal had a diameter measured in fractions of a nanometer, and only lasted a microsecond, it was definitely open and connected to another dimension," Hermione said, waving her fork around. Ron was tempted to mime ducking out of the way, but this was her moment. He'd still nag her into finishing her meal once she was done, of course.

"So now all you have to do is scale it up?" Luna asked.

"That's oversimplifying it a little. It's still a challenge - many processes that work on a small scale cannot be easily reproduced on a practical scale for various reasons, and the power requirements might be a little higher than I anticipated, but, essentially, yes, you're correct."

"Great!" Luna beamed. "I can't wait to meet my counterpart!"

"How much is 'a little higher'?" Harry asked.

Hermione winced. That wasn't a good sign.

Black Lake, Scotland, October 21st, 2005

"...and these are the adjusted projected power demands," Hermione finished her presentation.

"I see." Dumbledore nodded and put down the sheet of paper she had given him. "That's quite a bit higher than your initial estimate." He didn't look surprised, though Ron couldn't tell if that was an act.

Hermione's brief frown wasn't faked, Ron could tell. But she raised her chin slightly and replied: "It was a preliminary estimate, based on the best data I had at the time, and with a conservative margin of error. However, as often happens, further experiments revealed that the original estimate had been too low."

"I anticipated that - you can imagine how often Phoenix Gruppe's research and development division is far too optimistic in their projections. However, the scale of this adjustment is rather unexpected."

The old man was being quite diplomatic, in Ron's opinion - Hermione's 'adjustments' came down to tripling the power demands.

She looked contrite as she nodded. "Yes, Mr Dumbledore."

He sighed. "This leaves us with few options. We could add more generators, which means the fuel deliveries will have to increase as well, requiring additional fuel tanks. Or, as an alternative, the laboratory would need to be connected to an existing power plant."

Ron snorted - a power line built through Scotland would lead their enemies straight to them - and would take far too long, too.

"What about a nuclear reactor?" Hermione asked. "There are compact models."

Dumbledore shook his head. "That is not an option. Nuclear reactors are tightly controlled. Even if the Phoenix Gruppe were in the business of building them for our shipyards, one couldn't be moved without attracting international attention from various sources - including protesters in Germany. Transporting one to this laboratory and installing it would also require specialised personnel and resources as well as additional construction, and would put the location on the map, so to speak. Her Majesty's Government would most certainly be very interested in whatever project would require such a power source." He sighed again. "Unless you can create a way to produce power through magic, we'll have to ship in more generators and adjust the refuelling schedule. It's not ideal and does threaten our secrecy, but I fear it's the only viable option."

"I was afraid of that," Hermione confessed. "I'm sorry."

"We'll have to make do."

"Do we have the space for the additional generators?" Ron asked.

"It'll be tight, but with some adjustments, it should be possible. Although the ventilation might be strained a little as a result."

That did sound like a rather significant drawback, given that this was mainly an underground base. "What about the paper trail?" he asked. He wasn't a physicist, nor a wizard, but Ron understood security and secrecy.

"We'll be using the same resources that were used to construct this facility in the first place," Dumbledore told them. "That part shouldn't pose additional security problems."

Ron nodded. "But more construction and more generators mean more deliveries. That will make it harder to hide the facility."

"Indeed, although while challenging, it's far from impossible. I have some experience in hiding important secrets." Dumbledore smiled confidently.

Ron still couldn't tell if it was an act or not.

Black Lake, Scotland, October 23rd, 2005

Laying on the top of the hill overlooking the last leg of the road leading to the lake, Ron watched the trucks arrive through his night vision device. The full moon had been a few days ago, but it was cloudy, and the trucks didn't use their lights, so they were practically invisible to the normal eye. Though the Russians would have the technology to spot the vehicles anyway, it'd still make it harder for their spies.

It also made it harder to spot any spies, of course. But Ron and his friends would still try their best.

It had only been two days since Dumbledore had been informed of the adjusted power demands - so he must have been prepared for such an eventuality. That made Ron feel a little better about the whole thing. He hoped it would make Hermione feel better about her entirely understandable mistake, too.

"Have you spotted any tails?" he heard Luna ask through the radio.

"None as far as I can see," he replied, keying his microphone. But anyone following the trucks wouldn't be as obvious as to use the road - it's not as if this road led anywhere other than the lake resort. Hell, anyone with an old map would be able to guess the trucks' destination as soon as they turned on to this road. That didn't change the need to check the area, of course.

"My drones haven't spotted anyone, either," she replied.

"The workers have started unloading the cargo," Harry told them. Ron's friend was hidden at the resort. "I haven't seen anyone suspicious, yet."

"I haven't seen anyone at all," Hermione reported, and Ron suppressed a snort. She was staying in their room, hiding from everyone, and had even dismantled some of her gear so the workers installing the additional generators wouldn't find any sign of her presence.

They were doing this by the book and leaving nothing to chance.

And yet, all it would take to render their precautions useless would be one compromised man at the right spot in Phoenix Gruppe.

Well, they were preparing for that case as well, of course.

Black Lake, Scotland, October 25th, 2005

"Finally!"

Upon hearing Hermione's exclamation, Ron looked up from the book he had been reading on their bed. "Did they finish installing the generators?"

She pushed back from the desk she had installed in their room and turned to face him. "They've finished installing the generator in my laboratory. Dumbledore just informed me."

That meant that the other five generators were still being installed in the garage and the new room formed out of the former pantry and the quarters next to it.

She was already gathering her notes. "We need to check the lab, first," he told her.

"What?"

"The workers could have planted a bug, or something worse." Dumbledore might have picked them, but that didn't mean they could be blindly trusted.

He saw her take a breath and open her mouth, but the expected retort didn't come. Instead, after a moment, she sighed. "Sorry. I've just been…" She trailed off.

"You've been stuck here with me, instead of in your lab," he finished for her with a nod.

"You aren't the problem!" she blurted out, then saw his grin and pouted. "But I can't run experiments here."

"And rituals would wreck the room."

"Yes."

He chuckled. "So much for the tales of tantric magic."

"That's actually real," she told him.

"What?"

"Yes. There is a tantric magical tradition in India." She was leaning against the desk, in lecture mode. "But it's mostly limited to fertility rituals."

"That makes sense, I guess." He nodded.

"Well, in theory, nothing would stop a practitioner from developing different tantric rituals - it's just that, compared to wands, rituals are generally both unwieldy and less effective, so what would be the point?" She shrugged. "Barring, of course, the case of being stranded in another world without your wand."

"Why get a horse if you can have a car, hm?" He closed his book.

"Well, just as horses can cope with certain terrain better than cars, there are areas where rituals are the best - or the only - choice."

"Oh?"

"Blood magic. Sacrificial magic." She wasn't smiling any more.

"Ah. Not a good alternative, then."

"There are rituals where the caster sacrifices some of their blood instead of animals or humans, but most countries treat all blood magic the same, so the practice is almost exclusively limited to dark wizards or the desperate," she explained.

He raised his eyebrows a little but didn't ask whether she was included among the desperate. From what he knew about the war she had fought, things had certainly been dire enough. "So, best you wait here while I go on a bug hunt." That way, she'd also be safe if someone had planted a bomb.

He knew that she didn't like it - but hiding her presence from the workers would have been pointless if she was caught on a hidden camera. Well, a hidden camera not controlled by Dumbledore or Luna.

After a brief kiss, he left the room and went to the lab.

Two hours later, he hadn't found any bugs or a bomb in the laboratory. That didn't mean the workers could be trusted, of course - any one of them could still be an informant for the Russians. But, for now, the laboratory was safe.

Hermione was at her desk, setting up her computers, two minutes after he let her know.

Pretty much as he had expected.

Black Lake, Scotland, October 27th, 2005

"While I am not a picky eater, or spoiled - though Gellert would disagree, of course - I do think the dessert was a little… less than what it could have been," Dumbledore said as he put his fork down after finishing his slice of cake.

"Due to the need to install more generators, the kitchen crew lost their main pantry and had to relocate from their old quarters," Harry said. "That's bound to affect their work."

"Ah. This isn't an isolated occurrence, then?"

"No," Ron replied. The quality of the meals had gone down a little in the last few days.

The old man nodded. "I see. We can hope, then, that, as they get settled in and adapt to the changes, the meals will return to their former standard."

"Yes." Privately, Ron wasn't quite sure whether the drop in quality was, at least partially, not simply the kitchen crew venting their anger at having to move their stock and quarters. But the food was still decent, so it wasn't a significant problem.

"That said, I didn't come here to sample the food," Dumbledore said. "Although it certainly made the trip more pleasant."

"Did you find the mole?" Harry asked, leaning forward and pushing his half-eaten dessert out of the way.

"Alas, while the investigation continues, we haven't found a suspect yet - although we're still pursuing leads," the former spymaster replied. "No, I have come to inspect the work done - which seems to have been done to Dr Granger's satisfaction, if not, as you mentioned, to the cook's - and to inform you that my sources have confirmed that the Russians have been growing more active in Britain. They are expanding their network among the Russian expats, for one."

"Ah." Ron nodded. That was a logical step - there were a lot of rich Russian businessmen, many of them with a somewhat questionable past, living in London. He was about to ask if Dumbledore had any names when he noticed Luna stealing Harry's dessert and chuckled.

"However, the increased activity of the Russian intelligence assets in our country has also caught the attention of MI5. Which is both a blessing and a curse, I fear," Dumbledore continued, shaking his head - after a bemused glance at Luna.

"I guess we can't just assume anyone snooping around is a Russian spy, then," Sirius said. "So no shooting first and asking questions later."

"Something that should be standard policy in any case," Dumbledore pointed out. "You wouldn't believe the number of bird-watchers and hikers who ended up in police custody for a few hours after stumbling on to a secret facility during the Cold War. Unfortunately, we cannot exert the same pressure the government was able to bring to bear in those cases to make people keep quiet."

"That means we need to let intruders who might be mere tourists or hikers walk around or they will grow suspicious," Harry said. "Even if they might be Russian spies in disguise." It was clear he didn't like it.

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore told him. "We'll have to trust our camouflage."

Which wouldn't really fool an experienced spy, Ron thought. Perfect.

Black Lake, Scotland, October 31st, 2005

She was checking the power readings again, Ron noticed. On the generators, not just on the computer. Including the old generators, which had worked perfectly well for months. "Do you suspect sabotage?" he asked, rising from his usual spot on the bench.

"What?" Hermione turned to face him, stopping halfway to her desk.

He pointed at the generators. "You triple-checked them. Even though we went over the whole assembly yesterday, and you ran several tests."

"Oh." He saw her frown, then grimace. "I'm sorry. It's silly, but… it's Halloween."

Ron blinked. "Do you expect magical interference?" She hadn't mentioned that before.

She sighed and moved to sit down at her desk. "Not exactly. But back in my world, bad things tended to happen on Halloween. Mostly to Harry - his parents were murdered on Halloween in 1981 - but we were affected as well. The troll attack I told you about? That took place on Halloween in 1991. In 1992, the Basilisk's first attack happened on Halloween. In 1993, a break-in occurred that scared everyone - by Sirius. In 1994, Harry was forced into a dangerous tournament on Halloween."

That was an impressive series. "And in the other years?"

"Nothing special," she said, smiling weakly. "I told you, it's silly. But I'm always on edge on Halloween."

"So's Harry," he told her. "His parents were killed on Halloween as well, here."

"Yes, I know."

"Is Halloween a magically important date?" he asked. In a number of books he had read that was the case.

She shook her head. "It was an important date for rituals in the past, but modern Arithmancy has proved that that was merely superstition and tradition - if there is any magical significance to the date, then it's below the average influence of the planets on magic. Which is," she added with a huff, "negligible."

"Ah." He nodded. "So it's silly, but you'd rather be safe than sorry?"

"Yes."

He shrugged. "I don't think that's silly. Just common sense. Especially since there are a lot of parallels between our worlds, and our Halloween quota hasn't been filled yet, I think."

She giggled at that, though it sounded forced. "There's also the fact that a power surge during the ritual would be quite dangerous."

"Ah." She hadn't mentioned that before. But it made sense. As much as magic could make sense, he guessed. "And with three times the generators, the risk of such a mishap has tripled?"

"More or less - it's not a straight multiplication, but such numbers are rarely as precise as they seem."

"'Lies, damned lies and statistics'?" he quoted.

"In certain cases." She sighed. "I've done what I could, so now all that remains is the actual ritual."

Which would use three times the power on the cage.

Ron did his best to smile encouragingly and confidently at her. Even though he felt more than a little queasy - sometimes, ignorance was bliss.

He stayed on his bench, too, while she performed the ritual. And hoped for the best.

"...and so the increased power is affecting the ritual as I expected!" Hermione said, beaming at him as she turned away from the screen. "I achieved a huge relative increase in duration."

"That's great!" Ron told her - although he had to take her word for it. He wouldn't have been able to tell from observing the ritual. "Although that's not much in absolute terms, is it?"

She frowned at him, and he laughed; she looked cute like that. "It's an exponential increase. That means scaling up will be easy."

"And dangerous," he pointed out.

She shook her head. "Not if the right precautions are taken."

Once more, he had to take her word for it. Although he trusted her not to jeopardise the entire laboratory. And everyone in the area, of course. "Baby steps."

"Essentially, yes. Increasing the power step by step, so to speak. Even though it's more complicated than that."

"It's magic and quantum physics," he said, shrugging. "It would be weird if it wasn't complicated."

"It's using well-founded concepts and established laws." She looked a little annoyed.

He couldn't resist. "Of magic," he said, nodding very slowly.

"Yes, exactly, the laws of..." She blinked, then shook her head, huffing. "Oh, you!"

He grinned in return. "Sorry. I blame the twins' influence when I was young and impressionable."

"I wonder how many times you blamed them when they were perfectly innocent."

"Perhaps once or twice?" He cocked his head at her.

"Per month or per week?"

"I wish," he said, laughing. "They are two years older, and there are two of them." He hadn't gotten back at them nearly as often as they had managed to get him.

"That's another parallel," she said. "I wonder…"

Luna's voice on Ron's comm interrupted her. "Ron! We've got a contact near the lake!"

Twenty minutes later, Ron had found the contact - well, there hadn't been much searching involved, not with Luna keeping them in her drone's field of vision. But a drone, especially if it had to be kept at a distance to avoid being seen, could only do so much. Taking a look with his own eyes was still the best way to investigate, in Ron's opinion. Even if it was dangerous at times.

But this wasn't one of those times - the man, and it was a man, was alone. Dressed like a serious hiker, with a high-end camera; the size of the lens made Ron want to crack a joke about compensating for something. He also was certain that the man was a member of an amateur ornithologist club - the book he was consulting every few minutes was probably the 'Atlas of Breeding Birds in Britain and Ireland'.

And he was almost as certain that it was a cover. The man was a little too fit and didn't have the build of a hiker, from what Ron could tell from his vantage spot hidden in the underbrush on a nearby slope. But most importantly, when Harry, on the other side of their visitor, had scared up a few ravens, the man hadn't watched the birds, but the ground.

That wasn't a bird-watcher's reflex.

"I think that's a spy," he whispered into his comm.

"Drat," Luna answered. "What do we do?"

There wasn't much they could do. If the man didn't return from this trip, his handlers or partners would know that this was a location of interest. And none of Ron's friends could show themselves - the Russians knew about them and would recognise them. Well, so would half of Britain after all the news reports about the whole affair.

"We'll have to let Filch's people handle it," Ron said. As planned. Harry grunted his assent - Ron's friend really didn't like letting known criminals or threats walk away - and Ron switched the channel to Filch's. "Young-to-middle aged man, trained. He's all yours."

"Copy," Filch replied. "We'll send him off."

"Understood." Ron kept watching as the man slowly made his way down to the shore. They couldn't intervene too early - if the people posing as the caretakers of the resort showed that they had detected the intruder at this distance from the resort, they might as well admit that they were guarding a top-secret facility.

He knew that, but he still loathed seeing the spy walk along the shore, even taking samples of the water. Well, the water should be fine - there was nothing suspicious in there. Although… perhaps they should have planted some chemicals in it to throw people off and make them think this was a chemical research facility? On the other hand, the Russians were unlikely to know or even assume that Hermione's research was environmentally friendly.

But since the man was now on the shore, it wouldn't be implausible to have a caretaker notice them from the resort's location. After some time, of course.

The man was good, Ron had to admit ten minutes later as a small boat was approaching. He wasn't acting as if he was in the wrong, but just standing at the shore, waiting, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"I'm patching you into their radio channel," Luna announced. "Don't say anything, though - they don't know I've gotten in to their network."

They probably did, in Ron's opinion. Or suspected. Dumbledore certainly must. Although his men might not be aware. Or not all of them. He switched his microphone to push-to-talk and waited a little longer.

"Hello!"

"Hello, sir," Filch's man said in a heavy Glaswegian accent. "I'm afraid to say that is private property."

"Oh? I didn't notice. There was no sign."

"It's been a derelict resort for a couple decades. We're still refurbishing it for the new owner. But they were clear that this lake was private. As are the woods around it."

"Oh. What a pity. It has the most fascinating birds." Ron saw the man pull out and open his book. "See here? This species is really rare!"

"I don't know much about birds," Filch's man replied.

"Oh, it's a fascinating hobby! Did you know…"

Ron gritted his teeth as the spy launched into a spiel about ornithology that Ron was certain had been chosen to be as dull as possible. The intruder was good indeed.

"...and we tailed him to his car. We got the plates, but we haven't run them through the system yet," Harry said. He looked tired - but that was to be expected after having spent several hours trekking through the Highlands.

"They won't lead anywhere. The man was too smooth to be an amateur," Ron replied.

"Even experienced people make mistakes," Harry retorted. "And if they're fake, then we'll know he was a spy."

They were already operating under that assumption, but Ron didn't say so. Harry deserved some justification for his efforts.

"What do we do now?" Hermione asked.

"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best," Ron told her.

"And make sure that we'll never go on such a hike again. I'm a cavalry officer. If I wanted to walk for hours, I'd have joined the bloody infantry!" Sirius exclaimed, then groaned. The older man looked worse than Harry - almost exhausted.

Hermione glanced at him, then turned her head towards Ron again. "And what are those?"

"Best case: The spy bought our act and thinks this is merely a resort. Worst case: The Russians launch an assault on the lab," Harry replied.

"How likely is that?" Ginny asked.

"Not as unlikely as we'd like," Sirius said. "If they can get plausible deniability and at the same time let us know that it was retaliation for the attack on Kirikov…" He shrugged, then winced and rubbed his shoulder.

"Plausible deniability and claiming responsibility?" Luna shook her head. "Another sign of how far the government keeping secrets has corrupted our policies."

"Well, I'd rather not be known publicly as a dimension travelling witch," Hermione commented.

"Well, that's your privacy, which needs to be protected," Luna replied with a serious expression. "But the government needs to be accountable, and official secrets hinder this and help to hide their crimes."

"In any case, we should prepare for an assault," Ron interjected before Luna led them off on a tangent.

"Haven't we been doing that all along?" Ginny asked. "We've been training every day. Well, most of us."

Hermione didn't react to the comment, but Ron frowned at Ginny anyway. "We'll have to be more careful when training. If we're caught out in the forest, we'd be easy targets."

"And we have less of a need for secrecy now that Dumbledore knows about magic," Hermione added.

Ron nodded. Though he'd miss their evening strolls along the lake. And keeping some of their training a secret from Dumbledore was just being prepared for the other worst case. But needs must, in this situation. "By staying out of sight, we also make it harder for the enemy to use heavy weapons without risking Hermione being accidentally killed," he pointed out.

"Unless Putin decides that if he can't have her, no one will," Sirius retorted.

That was a rather sobering thought. Depressing as well.

"We'll have to take that risk," Ron said before Hermione could say anything. "And there isn't much they can do to kill us all easily if they want to blame 'terrorists'."

"And what if they drop a plane on us?" Ginny asked.

"Sneaking in a plane big enough to actually threaten the lower levels here?" Harry shook his head. "The planes are tracked - and the RAF is ready to intercept planes in case of hijacking."

Ron would still feel a little safer if Dumbledore moved some anti-aircraft missiles to the site, but that was a very long shot. He shook his head at his unintentional pun.

"And if the Russians attack, what do we do?" Ginny asked.

"Hole up as a last line of defence, and hope reinforcements arrive before they reach us," Sirius said.

"Or evacuate through Hermione's portal, if it's ready by then," Luna added.

"That won't be the case for at least several weeks if everything goes perfectly - which never happens," Hermione was quick to point out.

"You can't launch an attack on Britain in a few days, either," Sirius replied. "Not if you want it to have a better chance of success than the attacks we've already seen off."

Hermione nodded, and Ron suppressed a sigh. More pressure on her.

Black Lake, Scotland, November 13th, 2005

The flickering glint in the centre of the quantum mirror cage lasted a second. And it was large enough that Ron could almost make out something darker in the middle. Something that didn't shine as brightly. With some imagination, it might be seen as a ring. Like one that would form a portal.

"That looks like progress," he commented, then blinked as he turned to look at Hermione. "How much power did you feed to the cage this time?"

"About a third of the theoretical potential, but the real limiter is the ritual," she replied. "Why?"

"Your hair." He gestured. "It's all… poofy." It was doing its best to form a cloud around her head, from what he could tell, and her ponytail had been utterly wrecked in the process.

"Ack." She ran her hands through her hair as she went back to her desk, but to no avail - she didn't even manage to get the hair back into a ponytail.

"Is that a side effect?" He asked. And was it dangerous?

"Just some leaking power," she replied. "I'll have to adjust the formula a bit better to compensate."

He wanted to ask how much 'some' was - and how much more might leak like that.

Apparently, he didn't have to voice his thoughts since she went on: "That's why I'm taking baby steps and slowly increasing the power as I adjust the ritual, even though I could take far larger steps - the formula is now sound and tested. In principle."

"There's no need to rush things," he agreed. "It's almost been two weeks since the spy visited, with no follow-up, as far as we can tell." The plates had been registered to a false identity - which at least had confirmed that the man had been a spy.

"Didn't you just tell Ginny yesterday evening that growing complacent after a week or two was a typical mistake amateurs made?" she retorted, raising her eyebrows. Which had also been affected by the power leakage.

Busted. He shrugged with a grin. "Well, yes. But there's still no need to rush," he insisted.

She nodded, but he didn't know if she took it to heart. She was still feeling guilty for problems that weren't in any way her fault.

Black Lake, Scotland, November 15th, 2005

"...and it's now mostly a matter of steadily and safely increasing the power until the portal reaches a size and duration that makes travel practicable," Hermione finished her explanation.

"That sounds easy!" Luna said, nodding several times.

"It's not," Hermione retorted with a frown. "The ritual's formula is so complex, any increase in power fed to it requires adjustments to multiple, often very diverse factors, to compensate. It's not as simple as increasing a value to compensate for an increased different value."

"Magic isn't that logical," Ron added. "But even when it comes to technology, scaling up a process often takes a long time." At least if you did it safely.

"Exactly. I'd rather only risk my hairstyle instead of my life - or yours." Hermione nodded firmly.

"A good stance, in my humble opinion," Dumbledore said as he put down his cup of tea. "I also have good news for you: The Russians seem to be focusing on one of our decoy sites."

Ron frowned. He had almost forgotten about that plan. "I don't recall hearing about suspicious visits to other sites."

"Need to know, Mr Weasley. Besides, people are generally more motivated to adhere to security guidelines and remain prepared when they think an attack is imminent. At least that is what I've observed with my own employees."

For Dumbledore, that was a slightly less subtle admonishment than his usual style, Ron noticed.

"We're better than that," Harry told him.

"Without question," the old man told them with a patronising smile. "However, better safe than sorry, as the saying goes." He refilled his cup. "I've also successfully diverted MI5's attention to the same location."

"Won't they be angry with you once they realise that it's a decoy?" Luna asked. "MI5, not the Russians."

"Oh, they wouldn't expect me to keep my valuable weapons research at a threatened location," Dumbledore replied. "At least they shouldn't, unless standards have really slipped since I quit Her Majesty's employment. Although since they are already tracking several Russian operatives that have entered the country in the last week using various cover stories, I daresay that they won't feel too annoyed."

Apart from being annoyed that they'd owe the old man another favour or three. And that Dumbledore had once more demonstrated his superiority, Ron would guess. The man was brilliant, but a little too arrogant, in his opinion, even though he tried his best to be jovial and friendly. Unless that was an act as well.

"So everything is going according to plan?" Sirius asked.

"It seems so," Dumbledore replied.

"That's usually when things start to go really wrong," Harry's godfather replied.

"We shall see. Perhaps we will be positively surprised."

Ron snorted. As if.

Black Lake, Scotland, November 16th, 2005

Ron was about to head to bed - Hermione was still in the bathroom, showering after their workout - when someone started knocking on their door. "Ron! Hermione!"

That was Luna's voice. And she sounded agitated. "Yes?" Ron replied.

"It's starting - the Russians are moving on the decoy site in Wales!"

What? Ron jumped out of bed and opened the door. "How do you know?"

"I've got access to the information sent here to Dumbledore."

"Ah." He turned around. "Hermione!"

She stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in her pyjamas. "I heard."

Five minutes and a quick change of clothes later, Ron and Hermione entered Dumbledore's private quarters - for the first time. They were smaller than he'd expected, and looked more comfortable than stylish, though a huge TV screen showed four different camera feeds - all focusing on a square-looking building at night. Dumbledore, sitting in a leather armchair, and Luna, standing next to him, were both watching attentively.

"What's happening?" Ron asked.

"Wait a minute. The infiltrators should arrive on screen any moment now," the old man told them.

"Infiltrators?"

"The Russian operatives MI5 and my security have been tracking for several days."

"It's a trap," Luna said.

Ron had to chuckle at that.

"What's going on?" Sirius entered, followed by Harry and Ginny, who looked like they had been called while they were still in the shower.

Instead of answering, Dumbledore hit a few keys on his laptop, and one of the images on the screen grew, replacing all the others. A number of figures became visible on the enhanced picture. Figures trying to break into the building.

"The authorities should be making their move about now," Dumbledore commented. "Before my own people are forced to defend themselves."

As if on cue, the figures suddenly were illuminated by several flashlights. A firefight broke out at once as they fired on the lights, and MI5's people - well, soldiers from the looks of it - returned fire.

Sirius shook his head at the sight. "They're caught in the open, surrounded by forces under cover. Only idiots would resist in that situation."

Indeed, the figures were falling, one after another. MI5 didn't seem to be pulling punches - then again, after the London attacks, that was kind of understandable. Although… "Isn't this happening a little too fast?" Shouldn't those be elite operatives?

"Indeed. I would have expected more…"

Dumbledore was interrupted by the distant sound of an explosion, followed by sirens.

"Someone's attacking us!" Harry yelled. "The attack on the decoy site was a feint!"

"Here they come again!" she heard Harry yell, followed by explosions. She forced herself to ignore the noise, to suppress the urge to rush out and help them. She had to focus on the ritual. They needed to find the last Horcrux. A sob almost ruined the last chant, but she managed to finish.

For a moment, nothing happened. Had she failed anyway? Or was there no Horcrux in the Room of Requirement?

Then she felt the familiar tug. Yes. "I'm getting it!" she yelled, standing up and starting to hurry towards the back of the room, following the tug of the ritual.

An explosion shook the entire room, throwing her against a pile of broken furniture. She cried out when splinters pierced her skin, then gasped - the entire area around the entrance was covered in dust and smoke. "Harry! Ron!"

They stumbled back, out of the smoke - curses flashing past them. Ron's Shield Charm lit up when a spell splashed against it. "Bastards came through the ceiling!" he yelled, rolling to the side.

"Go!" Harry shouted, wand moving as he sent a few curses back through the smoke.

She pushed herself up, using a damaged cabinet to steady herself, and rushed on, ducking as more curses flew above her head.

She was close now. So close.