Ring A Ring O' Roses

by Gallivant

Hermione has it all: a loving family, successful career, even happiness (of sorts). But when Draco Malfoy warns of a devastating threat to the Wizarding World, a series of unexpected events turns her life upside-down... If working with Draco to destroy a deadly weapon was the last thing she ever wanted, falling for her enemy was the least expected, with far-reaching consequences..

56. With a Bare Bodkin

Katya poses a puzzle…

56. With a Bare Bodkin

'Okay, I've checked her for tracking spells and we've nothing to worry about,' Bill said, bouncing Magda on his knee.

Magda stared around the living-room at the smiley faces gawking at her and promptly burst into tears.

'Dear, dear!' Gabrielle cooed, scooping the child into her arms. Magda's face instantly lightened. She was at ease with Gabrielle, Hermione thought.

Draco was nervous about Scorpius's reaction to his new sister so the children were staying at The Blue House tonight. Proper introductions (and explanations) would wait until tomorrow.

'Come on, Draco,' Harry said, hauling himself off the sofa, 'let's get to Tinworth to make those calls.'

'I'm visiting your parents Monday,' Bill told Hermione once they'd gone. 'Beefing up security.'

'I thought you'd already put in wards?'

'Not enough for Mr Malfoy's liking.'

The kitchen door banged and Thelonious and Elizaveta appeared.

'Hey! Good to see you,' Thelonious said, embracing Hermione.

'And you, too. Sounds like we all had a hairy time getting out of Egypt.'

Thelonious blew out his cheeks. 'We were accused of child-smuggling at the border! But Hassan got us through in the end.'

'So CUTE!' Elizaveta cried, advancing on Magda with a huge beaming smile. Magda eyed her curiously, then pointed at Elizaveta's gleaming silver teeth, spluttering into sweet, tinkling laughter like a wind-chime wafting in the breeze.

'I'm here to make Portkeys,' Elizaveta told Hermione.

'With all the constant tripping about, Portkeys have become a big issue,' Bill said solemnly. 'And Thelonious is tied up with the corundum.'

Despite her smiley demeanour, Elizaveta's eyes were pink and bloodshot.

'Elizaveta… I'm sorry about your friends,' Hermione said.

'We will avenge them,' she replied hoarsely.

'Leila saved that wee baby's life – Arlene's child?'' Bill added.

'Tuyen is excellent healer in her homeland,' Elizaveta said. 'She and that kooky Muggle, Ziff, shop for favourite herbs.' She flashed her silvery smile. 'All will be well…'

XXX

Hermione and Ginny were making tea in the kitchen when Draco and Harry returned.

'We were discussing Sylvestra,' Draco said. 'All this time she didn't give a shit about her sister… and suddenly she's desperate to set her free. Why?'

'We think this proves Katya knows where Anna's missing papers are,' Harry asserted.

Hermione poured everyone a cup of tea, buying a moment to think.

'There were papers in the Russian doll she opened at Gringott's,' said Bill.

'Exactly,' said Draco. 'We need that Matryoshka.'

Hermione gave him a cup of tea. 'The thirteenth rose-charm might be in there, too.'

'Wouldn't be surprised... Would fit this whole fucking farce of drip-feeding me the roses one at a time,' Draco said acerbically.

'Maybe she wanted to see if she could trust you?' Ginny suggested.

'Control me, more like,' Draco grumbled.

'When you think about it… the fact Sylvestra is so desperate to get hold of Anna's papers is a good sign,' Hermione mused. 'The reason all these mad bastards have been desperate to find her work is because she probably found a quick way to make Dark Flux which doesn't involve child abuse…'

'Which means they're running out of supplies,' Draco said, following her line of thought, 'because we've found and secured their sources – the children.'

'Although… it's not all good news…'

'It never is, Hermione…' Draco said in droll tones.

'Because Anna's methodology would also enable Dark Flux to be mass-produced.'

'You certain this Matryoshka isn't at Malfoy Manor, Draco?' Harry asked.

'Positive.'

Briek sauntered into the kitchen, stretching and yawning. 'I'm getting old,' he moaned.

'Perfect timing,' Bill said, handing him a mug of tea.

'The only Matryoshka I can think of is the one at The Leaky Cauldron,' Draco chimed in.

'There's nothing magical about it,' Hermione said. 'It's just a money box. I've checked.'

'And that's exactly what I thought about the one Katya brought to Gringott's,' Bill said. 'Until she did that fancy blood-magic thing.'

'When Katya came to London to get some money, she brought this Matryoshka to give to Draco,' Briek said pensively. 'She probably stayed at The Leaky Cauldron and left it there.'

'Maybe she knew she was being followed and panicked?' Hermione suggested.

'Let's steal it!' Briek declared boldly. 'I'll do it if you like?' He gleefully rubbed his hands in anticipation of a jolly adventure, but Ginny hooked her arm around him and pushed him onto a seat at the table.

'You're far too well-known. Don't be silly,' she said.

'We're all a bit nervous visiting Diagon Alley these days,' Fleur said dismally. 'Too many Blasters.'

'What about Ron?' Ginny cried. 'He's not public enemy number one…'

'I doubt he'd be willing,' Hermione said.

'Willing to do WHAT?' came a familiar voice from the doorway leading into the sitting-room.

Hermione spun around to see Ron, leaning against the doorjamb, arms tightly crossed and a frown etched sharply onto his face.

'Didn't hear you come in,' Bill said, looking sheepish.

'Front door's open. Didn't know you were here,' Ron groused, staring straight at Draco.

'Well. I am,' Draco said wearily.

Percy peeled away from his brother's shadow and nodded to Hermione with chill cordiality. He regarded Draco with unalloyed suspicion.

'Ron,' Harry said impatiently, 'we need a favour, mate.'

'Who does?' he asked suspiciously.

'We all do,' Harry said. He led Ron away from the kitchen and Ginny followed, popping back into the kitchen a minute later to summon Percy.

Ten minutes later, they reappeared.

'Right,' Ron said, still looking surly. 'Percy and I will pop to The Leaky Cauldron for a quick pint and sneak this bloody money-box thing.'

Percy bit his lip nervously. 'I hope it doesn't have a caterwauling charm.'

Ron almost neighed with frustration. 'You're either in or you're out, Percy! This could be the most exciting thing you ever do in your life.'

'Not if I get caught!' But he followed Ron out of the kitchen.

XXX

'Too easy,' Ron muttered, staring at the brightly-coloured Matryoshka now standing upright on the kitchen table. 'It's like it was waiting for us.'

'No, it wasn't,' Hermione tutted. 'You're being paranoid.'

Bill unrolled a cloth onto the table unveiling an array of silver instruments. He proceeded to tap the Matryoshka at various points on its corpulent, china body and then placed his ear against the doll, eyes screwed up in concentration.

The kitchen fell silent in hushed anticipation.

'Well?' Fleur asked.

'It's just a money-box.'

Gabrielle hovered behind Bill with Magda in her arms.

Magda's pudgy little hand darted out from Gabrielle's clasp and knocked the Matryoshka over. She giggled as it rolled rapidly across the table.

The Matryoshka stopped and stared blankly at Draco…

'Creepy as fuck,' Draco said under his breath, barely able to look at the doll's wide-eyed gaze. It looked sorrowful and shocked in equal measure.

'It wants you,' Ron said, a taunting expression on his face. He sat down at the table facing Draco with the air of a man settling in for some light entertainment.

Draco threw him a furious glance and picked up the doll, smashing it hard onto the table. He instantly yelped in pain, clutching his hand. 'Fucking Flagrante!'

'You made it angry!' Ron smirked.

Draco steeled himself to try again but this time the doll stuck to him. He winced as sizzling white flashes shot up his arm.

'Jesus fuck!' he cried, desperately trying to shake it off.

Harry karate-chopped the doll from Draco's grasp and Hermione frantically flicked the doll away with her wand. It spun wildly, accompanied by a chorus of high-pitched squeals of delight from Magda, before shooting across the table and crashing into Draco's stomach. He slumped over, winded, and the doll tumbled to the floor.

Hermione bent down to pick it up. 'No! Don't touch it!' Draco shouted, catapulting it onto the table with colour-magic. 'I - I think I know what it wants… Katya used blood-magic, didn't she?'

Bill gave Draco a regretful look and plucked a small blade from his tools collection. 'A pin-prick should do.'

Draco pierced the top of his thumb and a drop of blood fell onto the Matryoshka. For a split second, its mouth twitched.

'Come on,' Draco growled in frustration. 'OPEN!'

'I think it wants more,' Briek said in sad tones.

Draco squeezed his thumb and smeared another drop onto its face. Its expression shuddered, then stilled.

'Maybe ANY blood will do,' Hermione suggested, reaching for the blade, but Draco twisted her arm away and glared.

'She wants me.' He turned to Gabrielle. 'Do you mind taking Magda out of the room?'

The moment she was gone, Draco slashed the blade across his palm. A thick welt of blood exploded into his hand.

'What are you doing?' Hermione gasped.

'Giving it what it wants,' he said, clenching his fist and trailing blood over the doll. The Matryoshka's mouth gaped open and shut like a fish.

'Not enough,' he murmured.

He looked Hermione in the eye. 'I'm going to need a healing spell after this…'

'After wha—? SHIT!' Hermione shrilled, abruptly standing up, as Draco cut deep into his arm and a sheet of blood flowed downwards, coiling its course to his fingertips and falling onto the Matryoshka. Draco closed his eyes and allowed his blood to spill…

Fleur's hand flew to her mouth in horror. 'Oh my god! It's like it's eating it!'

Hermione could barely watch and was pacing up and down behind Draco… Even Ron had turned a sickly shade of green.

'Sorry. Hate blood...' Briek mumbled and stalked out of the room.

'Its mouth… it's getting bigger,' Bill said.

'Nope... Mouth closing again…' Harry groaned.

Draco nodded. 'Just a little bit more…'

He furtively glanced at Hermione over his shoulder and gouged the knife deeper, flinching in pain… Deep crimson blood flooded down his arm and the Matryoshka's mouth opened wider and wider, gulping his blood, until its face was a gaping hole.

Draco quickly plunged his hand inside the doll's cavernous mouth and pulled out a sheet of parchment, flinging it onto the table… 'That's it…' he said, his voice dropping to a disappointed whisper as the hole instantly closed.

He fell back onto his chair, breathing heavily. Almost tearful with fury at the Matryoshka, Hermione wrapped her arms around him, not caring that Ron was watching, hawk-eyed, and then drew her wand to heal his wounds with Vulnera Sanentur.

'You look a bit… woozy,' Fleur said, handing him a pumpkin juice. 'You need this.'

Harry snatched up the parchment. 'Mind if I see if this was worth it?'

Draco wafted his uninjured arm at him. 'Go ahead!' He gazed tenderly at Hermione, her head bent close to his, as she concentrated hard on healing him.

Harry rolled his lips inwards and stared so hard at the parchment in his hand he was cross-eyed. 'It's a poem.'

'A POEM?' Ron sneered.

'Read it out then!' Ginny urged.

Harry actually blushed. 'I don't think I can…' he said, looking pained, passing it to Fleur.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she glanced down.

'Oh, for fuck's sake!' Bill said, reaching across Harry and seizing it. 'What a bunch of fannies.' He cleared his throat and held the parchment at arm's length.

'Fucking hell, Draco! Did your wife write this?' He was smothering a laugh.

'Just read the fucker…'

Bill assumed a serious air… and read in a surprisingly lyrical and declamatory baritone.

'You kissed me at the last

and there I remain.

My soul in your hands

no more will I blame.

Now you have shown me

how the inconstant heart

can change and embrace me

till death us do part.

My words will be spoken

once more in your ears.

The sound of my voice

will move you to tears.

The last place we kissed.

The place we kissed last

such gifts I bestow you

from a long distant past.

Be wise and be well

till we three are one.

Our love to reign brighter

than the hot, soaring sun.

My Prince, my heart, my joy, my song

This fair maid will love you, through all the years long…'

Bill gazed around at everyone's stunned faces and placed the poem on the table. 'And... there you have it.'

'That's DREADFUL!' Ginny eventually said, her voice ringing out into the silent horror.

'It's not the best poem, but she tried…' Harry said, trying to be kind.

Hermione was too distraught to speak. Nothing about Anna's Dark Flux formula or Ephraim's plans or the thirteenth rose… NOTHING!

'But what does it mean?' Percy asked.

'Absolutely fuck all. It's just… mush,' Draco said with a disparaging look at his shredded arm, although Hermione had stopped the bleeding and the skin was beginning to knit together.

'Strange little couplet-thingy at the end,' Bill noted. 'A distinctive change in metre.'

'It's obviously referring to Malfoy's rampant infidelity while they were married,' Ginny opined. 'She's forgiving him because by bleeding all over a china doll he's shown his true love for her…' She sniffed loudly. 'Something like that…'

'Who's the three are one?' Harry asked, jabbing his finger at the text. 'You guys and Magda?'

'But not Scorpius,' Draco scowled.

Briek had crept back into the room now that Draco wasn't bleeding.

'My words will be spoken once more in your ears, the sound of my voice will move you to tears,' he read aloud with dramatic emphasis. 'Looks like she thinks there'll be an emotional reunion, Draco,' he said with a wry smile. 'Parvati and Henrik have arrived,' he added by way of information. 'They're making friends with Young Madam in the living-room.'

'Hold on!' Hermione exclaimed, swooping onto the parchment. 'This is actually an instruction!' She turned to Draco. 'She's telling you where to find the thirteenth charm! HER voice that will bring you to tears, via the necklace. And you'll find it in the last place you kissed…Where did you last kiss your wife?'

Draco looked at her in startled panic. 'I don't know…'

'You have to. Think!'

'I am doing… and I honestly don't know. I'm not just saying it.'

'Malfoy Manor?' Bill said.

'Too easy,' Harry muttered.

'Think what you did the last time you saw her,' Ginny said staring at Draco with fierce intensity. 'Where did you go?'

Draco's eyes darted from side to side. 'I – I can't think.'

'You went to Hogsmeade,' Hermione said. 'You told me you went there the day before she left.'

Draco wrinkled his brow in confusion. 'I DID?' He thought a moment. 'Yes. That's right. I had a meeting. But she came, too… We had afternoon tea at that horrid little teashop.'

'Madam Puddifoot's,' Harry sneered.

'Didn't it get burned down?' Ron said.

'Unscathed,' Harry said with an unmistakable tone of regret.

'Did you kiss her?' Hermione asked.

There was a peculiar haunted look in Draco's eyes. 'I don't think so. Nothing you'd call a PROPER kiss…' He considered this a moment. 'Maybe a quick peck on the cheek? I had to rush off!'

'Poor kid,' Briek sighed. 'So her grand romantic memory is you rushing off to a meeting…'

'That's why I doubt it's that!'

'Hey!' Henrik guffawed as he lolloped into the kitchen and pulled Hermione into an all-encompassing bear hug followed by a round of mutual back slaps with Draco and Harry.

He was followed by Parvati, holding Magda aloft. 'She's gorgeous,' she said approvingly to Draco.

Ron had edged his way around the table and was close to the doorway, poised to leave, but Magda reached out and entangled her hand in his hair, jerking him backwards.

'She must like me,' he hissed.

'She likes the colour of your hair,' Ginny said, 'don't think you're special.'

'I hear stuff in my job,' Percy said to Draco as he rose to leave, 'and I can keep an eye on the Floo Network.'

'That would be great.'

'Mr Golowitz is putting a fair few backs up, acting like he owns the place,' Percy said disapprovingly. 'He forgets there's an election to win before he's officially Minister.'

'Well, let's hope he never is.'

'Go, Go Creevey,' Harry drawled, pumping the air with sarcastic lassitude.

'I will help this Creevey chap with his campaign,' Briek said thoughtfully. 'Is he a charismatic and interesting fellow?'

Everyone avoided looking at each other.

'He's… very nice,' Hermione said, eventually.

'Ah... I see…' Briek remarked, gauging the feeling of the room. 'Then I will suggest a campaigning roadshow to him. Music, lights and lots of fun!… A bit of PIZZAZZ!'

XXX

'Houblon,' Magda kept saying mournfully.

'Do you think that's what she called Rozella?' Hermione suggested sadly.

Magda was wedged between them in bed and her legs kept thrashing against Draco.

'She's a right Bucking Bronco,' he muttered.

Magda pushed herself up with a heavy sigh and then flopped across them, her head tucked under Hermione's chin and her legs splayed onto Draco's stomach.

She immediately fell asleep.

Draco turned to Hermione and started to laugh.

'What is it?'

'What Briek called her… Young Madam!'

They gazed at each other, smiling.

XXX

The garden at The Blue House was overrun by teams of children racing to deploy a Portable Swamp while dropping Decoy Detonators in the fastest possible time.

George Weasley had plundered his shop's stock and devised a 'game' codenamed "Castle Keep" to teach the children how to defend The Blue House from potential invaders. He'd enlisted Angelina as his 'glamorous assistant'.

Hermione was seriously impressed by the organisation and commitment of the children to the cause of "Castle Keep", up until the moment when George pulled out a box of Wildfire Whizbangs and gifted each child a set of Shieldwear and Alfred accidentally pursued Molly across the lawn with a particularly ferocious Thestral Thrasher.

Luckily the rain came and everyone moved indoors. A picnic-meeting scheduled by Harry was relocated to the large, old-fashioned kitchen.

Draco looked worried leaving Magda in the 'nursery' on the top floor, where a thoroughly over-excited Gwen was currently in charge.

'She's so damned scrumptious,' Gwen gushed, bonding quickly with Gabrielle who'd volunteered to share childcare duties.

'Do you think she'll be alright on her own?' Draco asked Hermione.

Hermione smiled indulgently. 'She'll be fine. She's got a band of adoring fans catering to her every whim!'

Rose quickly decided Magda was her new favourite thing in the world but Scorpius was a little nonplussed.

Draco took him aside to gently explain the situation.

'What did you say?' Hermione asked.

'I said Katya was her mother and we were looking after Magda while she was away. But he doesn't really remember Katya... I think he's blocked Malfoy Manor and everything about it.'

'Hardly surprising…'

XXX

Over thirty adults squeezed into the kitchen. Half were tightly jammed around the long table with the remainder parked on any available surface or sitting cross-legged on the flagstone floor.

Ron was perched on the coal-scuttle next to the fireplace. He gave Hermione an icy half-smile when they entered the room...

Harry, Bill and Gunter had come to Folkvangr this morning to discuss 'core strategies' as Harry had phrased it in true Auror HQ-speak. He looked keen to kick off proceedings, but Draco was chatting to Ziff… and Neville frantically beckoned Hermione to the kitchen table.

'We need to talk about this damned election,' he said in hushed tones. 'Dennis doesn't stand a chance.'

'He doesn't need to WIN,' Hermione whispered in return. 'We just want Ephraim to lose… there's another candidate, remember? Merriman?'

'Should be YOU standing. Ephraim's terrified of you,' Neville countered. 'Look!' He thrust a parchment into her hand.

'Why did he write to you?'

'Maybe he thinks we bonded over our little chats while I was in prison?'

'What's up?' Draco asked. He read Ephraim's note over her shoulder.

'Make sure Hermione doesn't stand against me. She has made enemies and would be too exposed. I trust you to keep this confidential.'

Draco scrunched the parchment into a tight little ball. 'A threat… When did you get this, Neville?'

'Late last night.'

'Right! Everybody settle down!' Harry roared.

There was a general commotion and scuttling of chairs and people hauling themselves onto the worktop at the far end of the kitchen. Ziff was the last one standing and opted to squeeze himself into the sink – his legs dangling over the side.

'We've a lot to talk about…' Harry said, 'and we're here to answer any questions as best we can.' He turned to Draco. 'Are you okay doing this?

'Sure…' Draco said, looking a little flustered, 'but first… Troyanda13 didn't need to come and help us. But they did, and we're extremely grateful.' He nodded to Gunter and Niko standing alongside Harry and then lifted his eyes to Oleg and Elizaveta on the opposite side of the room. 'And now they've lost people they loved... It's hard to know what to say other than we're truly sorry this has happened to you…'

'This is our fight, too, Draco,' Gunter stoutly declared. 'We need to make sure they didn't die in vain.'

Draco nodded. 'You're right. And the sad truth is we'll all suffer losses along the way. Some of us in this room will die…'

Everyone stared at him in stunned silence.

'And if we ourselves don't die, then we might have to experience an even greater sorrow… we might survive but lose someone we love and be forced to live with that forever.'

Hermione couldn't help but look at the Weasleys. Molly was staring fixedly at Draco and George was looking down at his hands on the kitchen table.

'So, if you want to step back, that's fine... There's no shame. No judgement. Because this won't be easy. Or safe…'

Draco scanned the room as though expecting people to stand up and leave. But nobody did.

'The problem is we're facing three enemies – and ALL of them have to be defeated. Most of you here haven't come across Salvedra – and I hope it stays that way because he's a fucking abomination.' Draco's face darkened as he spoke. 'This is an extremely powerful, dark wizard - and that alone makes him dangerous. But this is amplified by what he preaches, what he stands for, who he influences. Salvedra is a supremacist who wants to ethnically cleanse Muggles and Muggle-borns. He probably invented the term Mudblood, so it's hardly surprising that Voldemort was a fan.'

'Voldemort?' Molly shrilled.

'Yes, Mrs Weasley… The fact is, he has to be stopped. His voice has to be silenced... Now Hermione has a few ideas on how we maybe deal with him, which she'll explain in a bit - so let's move on to someone who doesn't need any introduction. And that's his star pupil and proxy - our very own Mr Golowitz.'

'Bastard,' Neville muttered. There was a ripple of laughter around the room.

'An excellent summary, Neville,' Draco said, grinning sarcastically. 'We all of us know him for what he really is... a nasty, bullying shit promoting policies and ideas that are dangerously divisive. He's the last person who should ever be our Minister for Magic!' He threw a smile in Dennis's direction. 'Which is why we're grateful to Dennis for having the balls to stand up to him.'

Everyone cheered Dennis until he was scarlet with embarrassment.

'But of course our concerns about Ephraim go much deeper… Innocent Muggles are being murdered because he's made it his life's work to bankroll and develop a racist weapon and build a network of trained killers…' He gazed around the room as he spoke. 'And his grand idea - his Right to Exist bullshit - is a fucking suicide note. It would bring us into conflict with the Muggles and we WOULD LOSE… The wizarding community would be wiped out.'

Hermione couldn't help but notice a few of the witches and wizards in the room looked decidedly uncomfortable at this.

'I've got to admit though, sometimes I see where Ephraim's coming from. It's tiring having to hide. To be separate… The older I get, the more I hate that… Muggles aren't our enemy. Fundamentally, we're the same, wanting to live well and at peace.'

Draco gestured to Henrik and Ziff. 'And believe me, without these guys we'd be in a really shit position … They've proper fucked Ephraim financially and now he's in trouble with the Muggle authorities.'

'You did that too, Draco,' Harry said. 'You destroyed Herb Healing.'

'But the credit goes to these guys, because this isn't their fight. They don't have to be doing this… But I'm glad they are because they're two of the best blokes I've ever known.'

Henrik grinned…

'But the horrible truth is – magical or Muggle – there's always going to be dicks who think they're better than everyone else and want to fuck things up for the sake of their own ego. I should know. I was one of them. And so's Ephraim and those who follow him.'

Draco paused for breath and regarded everyone suspiciously… 'Why isn't anyone interrupting me?'

'Because we can't get a word in edgeways,' Henrik said, prompting laughter.

'Okay, so I've painted a pretty miserable picture of where we're at,' Draco rejoined once the laughter had subsided. 'What the fuck are we doing about it all? How do we kill off Ephraim's morally corrupt ideas? Well, in addition to Dennis's election campaign, we also have Sub Rosa…'

Agatha Thrussington, looking remarkably well after her potentially lethal encounter with Hulda, threw her arm into the air… 'Just so you know, Draco, I'm now editor of Sub Rosa – and Tansy's my deputy.'

Draco gave her a beaming smile. 'That's great, Agatha… You'll do a fantastic job – particularly if you put all those dirty, little secrets you know about people to good use. It's not just propaganda we need but persuasion…'

He looked around the room. 'It's really important, actually, that those of you who haven't become social outcasts speak to people you know. Inform them… warn them.' His eye fell on Percy who was sat at the table beside his wife, Audrey, and then moved onto Hannah.

'I bet there's a whole bunch of folks who'd happily listen to their favourite landlady...'

'It can work both ways!' she assured him with a smile.

'That's great, and we need to be sure that we share anything we learn… the tiniest bit of gossip about these fuckers could make all the difference. We need to know where they are, what they're doing, who they're talking to or spending time with… We need to be spies.' He paused a moment… 'Now, I've got a couple of insiders passing me information and Troyanda13 has someone working with Ephraim. But many of you have ways and means to spy, too.'

To Hermione's surprise, Draco turned to Ron. The whole room appeared to hold its breath as one.

'I personally think Ron might be one of the most valuable people in this room because Ephraim and his cronies trust him… Trying to hand me over to the Blasters was fucking inspirational,' Draco said in a tone of cool detachment. 'And you're the only person here with eyeballs on Carmichael and the Humpties and the Blasters and the corrupt-as-fuck Aurors who think the sun shines out of Ephraim's arse.'

Ron cleared his throat. 'They know I hate you so they tell me everything now.'

Draco's lips curled into a smile. 'Fucking marvellous.'

To Hermione's surprise, Ron blushed a violent puce.

'Bennet's one of them... though you probably already know that. Tana's close to him and she tells me what he's up to.'

Draco nodded and then wheeled round to Hassan Aktari at the kitchen table.

'Hassan. We need you to go back to Egypt.'

Hassan's face buckled. 'But my son…'

'…is safe. Courtesy of everyone here at The Blue House and the fucking incredible work they're doing protecting our children… But we need someone to keep an eye on what's going on at Akhr Makan.'

Hassan heaved a despairing sigh. 'But I have people there who can send me information. People I trust…'

'More than you trust yourself?… You were Aleuyan, Hassan. You know this work better than anyone. You know what needs to be done and how to do it.'

Hassan stared at Draco, a wild look in his eye. Draco waited…

Eventually, Hassan closed his eyes and sighed. 'Yes, Draco, I go … I will do this thing. But you must promise to safeguard my child.'

'With my life,' Draco replied without hesitation. Hassan slightly bowed his head.

'We have other means to spy - Ziff keeps an eye on the Muggle world and some of us are able to travel between paintings and keep a watch that way… But it's critical we pool information, to be sure we're making the right decisions at the right time. We need someone people report to, someone to piece everything together… Who'd like to take this on?'

He gazed around the room expectantly.

Arthur put his hand up. 'Logically, it should be you, Draco.'

'Yeah. You're already doing the job,' Neville said. There was a general murmur of agreement.

Draco cast a nervous glance in Ron's direction. 'Well, if everyone's alright about that?' To Hermione's relief, Ron nodded.

'All of this obviously leads to the man himself – to Ephraim and his network. And their ability to carry out Dark Flux attacks… and the good news is – we're winning.'

'Doesn't bloody feel like it,' said Seamus Finnigan, glowering from the far end of the kitchen table.

'But we are. Your house is chock-full of children who've escaped abuse, being cared for by a bunch of brilliant witches like Arlene and Tuyen and Fleur and Hermione's amazing cousin, Gwen - all playing "Castle Keep", which is a fucking brilliant idea by the way, could save lives -' he nodded at George and Angelina, 'while we're cutting off their supply of Dark Flux... They're running out!'

Hermione saw this hadn't properly occurred to people. There was a genuine hubbub of excitement.

'Even Ephraim's own people - especially those in thrall to Salvedra like his evil fucking daughter - think he's gone soft.'

'Are you suggesting we wait for Salvedra's people to take Ephraim out?' Thelonious asked.

'Far from it… Ephraim will always have his wands-for-hire and the bloody Blasters.'

'Tim says the Muggles want to blow up Malfoy Manor and kill him?' Ernie shouted from the table. 'Is that going to happen?'

'Possibly,' Draco said with a nonchalant shrug. 'Though I suspect Harry would rather put him on trial.' Harry nodded vehemently. 'But we have to be prepared to take Ephraim down ourselves – and this includes his terrorist network… We need a specialised Trace and Track squad.' He looked at Thelonious and Henrik. 'You guys think Asusto's responsible for these attacks on Muggles and I agree – but there's others, too… Grimm, Hulda, Selwyn, Josep, probably Troy. And then there's Ephraim's Blasters. The truth is, Ephraim and Salvedra are the heads of the organisation, but these folks are their hands – their weapons. We need to neutralise them.'

'Oleg and I will do thistrace and track,' Elizaveta chirped up.

'Me too, Draco,' Henrik said.

'But you can't fly,' Parvati said peevishly. 'And you haven't got magic. How would you defend yourself?'

'I'm more than capable.'

'… at getting yourself killed!' Parvati scoffed.

Draco looked between the two and smiled. 'Parvati…' he said in soothing tones. 'Henrik's a trained hitman.'

'But he can't use a wand.'

'He can use guns…'

Bill shuffled uneasily. 'Do we really want to go down that route, Draco?'

'We need to make use of anything that gives us an advantage.'

Harry nodded at Henrik, Oleg and Elizaveta. 'I'll work with you guys, if that's okay… as well as handle the Auror HQ stuff.'

'Great,' Draco said, 'I'll hand over to Hermione and then Bill, who's got a bit of housekeeping to talk about… but I just want to say that the most important thing here is we work together, bury our differences… I know this is a bit rich coming from me, but we simply don't have the time and energy to waste on our personal bullshit anymore. It can't be tolerated. There's too much at stake.'

'Here, Here,' Arthur Weasley said, and there was a wave of agreement. Ron threw a heated glance in Draco's direction but quickly looked away when he caught Hermione's eye.

Draco beckoned her forwards with a smile.

'So, very briefly… Salvedra,' she said. 'We're going to need a more imaginative approach to dealing with him because I fear wands and guns won't be enough… Now, I have an idea about what can be done – it involves these special paintings Draco mentioned and it's a bit wacky and there's a few things still need figuring out - but I need a team to be working on this right away.'

Everyone regarded her with interest…

'The first thing we need is people prepared to steal a few paintings… mainly in France. Harry says he's happy to lead a team to do that – so volunteers sign up with him please. We're also going to need a couple of people brilliant at making potions… These special paintings use something called Stypticus Solution. We need to deconstruct that, analyse it and then remake it using our own special recipe. Ideally we need two people prepared to devote a lot of time and effort to this one job.'

'I'm good at potions,' Fleur said, looking a little embarrassed to be announcing herself in this manner.

'She's VERY good,' Bill asserted.

'Brilliant,' Hermione smiled. 'Who else?'

'Ernie,' Draco said behind her. Ernie's head shot up and the tips of his ears had turned pink.

'Me?' he choked.

'Yes. You're a natural. I remember thinking that when we did NEWTS.'

'Okay.' Ernie was still crimson. 'It'd be an honour.'

'But what about my campaign?' Dennis said plaintively. 'You're my manager.'

'Oh, I'll do it,' Neville said crabbily. 'You should have just asked me in the first place!'

'And I'll help,' Hannah said in placatory tones. 'Sounds fun!'

'Everyone who can do colour-magic will be needed to handle Salvedra,' Hermione said, 'but we'll also need powerful witches and wizards and a secure space to guard paintings. But … these are things we can talk about later...' She grinned at Bill who clambered to his feet from the floor by the fireplace where he'd been sitting next to Ron.

'A few domestic matters. I'm handling security and welfare issues,' Bill said, 'so any problems, come to me or Kai – who's happily agreed to work as my able assistant…' Kai beamed at everybody. 'I now have more time, obviously.'

Fleur's face puckered and her eyes fell.

'What's happened?' Hermione asked, alarmed.

'Gringott's…' Ron made a slashing motion across his neck.

'Oh no,' Hermione said… Why hadn't he said anything yesterday?

'We'll cope,' Fleur sighed.

'Any financial needs from any quarter,' Draco butted in, 'please speak to Ziff or Robert – Hermione's Dad. They'll sort you out.'

'With YOUR money?' Molly asked.

'I can exchange Muggle money at Gringott's if necessary,' Ron pointed out to Draco.

'I've got money, too,' Harry added.

'Not as much as Malfoy!' Ginny exploded, triggering a round of laughter.

But Harry stared at her, an intense expression on his face. 'Ginny. We're very wealthy people.'

Bill shook his head. 'I'd rather not take anyone's money. One day this will be over and—'

'It won't be OVER if we can't afford to eat,' Draco said curtly.

Bill didn't look happy but continued. 'Other logistical issues to consider are Communications and Transport…' He looked to Thelonious and Parvati. 'You two are good with the corundum?' They nodded. 'And Ziff fields Muggle comms… okay, so… Transport. Elizaveta's offered to be the go-to for Portkeys but she could do with some support.'

Briek cautiously raised his hand. 'I volunteer my wife… a true talent.'

'We've also lost our healer,' Molly said soberly. 'We need a replacement.'

'We have Tuyen,' Bill said.

Tuyen bowed timidly.

'And I can make do, at a scratch…' Arlene said deferentially to Molly. It definitely looked like Molly had taken control of The Blue House, Hermione noted… while George and Angelina were in charge of defence.

'Is everyone happy with all of this?' Harry asked.

'We can do this,' Draco said. 'There's more than enough of us to make this work. But we need to act fast… And yes, it's fucking dangerous stuff, but it's stuff that's fallen to us to do - and for the sake of our children – and grandchildren…' he looked at Molly and Arthur, 'we need to get on with it.'

XXX

'It's too quiet,' Hermione said to Harry. 'Where is everybody?'

They'd been ambling through paintings for most of the morning. It wasn't something Harry liked doing. It made him feel uncomfortable.

Hermione had tried to track Ephraim. They'd briefly glimpsed him in Narcissa's drawing-room talking to Troy. Both men had left in a hurry and Hermione hadn't seen either since.

There was no sign of Salvedra or Sylvestra…

'What about Dolores?' Harry asked.

'Don't say her name, Harry!' Hermione begged. 'I suspect she spends a lot of time inside paintings and I don't fancy finding myself nose-to-nose with her... not today.' She swiftly blanked her mind and gazed at their surroundings. They were currently wandering through long grass – a gauzy, silver sheen…

They headed towards the brow of a hill.

'How's Young Madam settling in?' Harry asked.

'Oh! She's lovely,' Hermione said with a strained smile.

Harry looked concerned. 'The other kids okay?'

'More or less…' her voice petered into a sigh. 'Scorpius… a bit less, unfortunately.'

'Poor kid's gone through a lot. Having a new sister's not the easiest thing on top of that.'

'No…' She thought with a sad pang of Scorpius's downcast face last night. He'd crept into their bedroom – which struck her as interesting in itself, because they'd definitely set up alerts – and sat on the edge of the bed, complaining in an oddly formal fashion that he'd liked things as they were before and that Rose was less interested in him now that 'Magma' had arrived.

'Has Ron said anything about your kids still staying with you?' Harry asked.

'Why? Has he said something to YOU?' Ron's silence on the matter was deafening…

'No,' Harry said, 'but Ginny mentioned it. Not in a bad way, before you panic!'

Hermione sighed in relief. 'Good, because I don't think I could cope with a new family crisis… My uncle's gone downhill a bit. Everyone's sort of… holding their breath.'

'Has he met Draco?'

'Yesterday… We had a really nice time and Uncle Derek adores Scorpius. But it felt… you know…' She blinked back tears and looked away.

Harry said nothing but he slipped his arm through hers and they crested the brow of the hill together and stared down into a sweeping, dark blue valley…

'Shall we head back? I've got a meeting with my new crew,' Harry said, rolling his eyes for comical effect.

'Which one?'

'Trace and Track. Asusto's moaning on the corundum that he's piss-bored stuck in the middle of nowhere. Mentioned how flat and miserable it was... Not a lot to go on, but… WOAH!'

Harry grabbed hold of Hermione's arm as they gunned down the valley in a purple haze before tumbling through a veil of dank grey mist… Hermione realised she was floating above a sea of lily-pads stretching over brown, brackenish water. Katya's tower topped by its conical hat loomed over her.

Hermione flipped backwards towards the tower. Unlike its real-world counterpart it didn't have a blown-out hole in its front. And the door in its side was wide-open.

Hermione tore her eyes away. She had to find Harry…

There was a faint smudgy green on the glistening, grey barrier between the painting and reality…

Harry looked confused. 'I thought you said this painting was at Malfoy Manor?'

Hermione craned her head into the grey fog. Katya's room was gone.

Instead she was staring at a man with pale, pimpled flesh and lank, dark hair. He gazed back with blank, lifeless eyes.

'It's Asusto… Where are they?'

'In a vehicle of some kind.' Harry squinted to the left of the frame. 'There's a window out the back.'

Hermione leant forwards for a better view. They couldn't fall out… Their bodies were safely stowed in the garden-shed at Folkvangr with ClassicFM on the radio.

She watched an endless stretch of flat, brown fields and a ribbon of grey asphalt road trickle into the distance. They veered left and a grey metal gate swung shut behind them. The vehicle rocked up and down and then stopped.

The painting surged upwards and their view was obscured by a close-up of Asusto's grey t-shirt – before being released in a single sweeping arc into open air and a glimpse of a concrete courtyard hemmed in by low corrugated-iron buildings.

A heavy jolt and they were staring at the back-end of a Land Rover.

Harry pointed at the gate. 'Look. A sign. Nethercross Farm.'

But she was too distracted by Auror Carmichael walking with Karl across the courtyard. That could only mean one thing.

'Ephraim's here.'

XXX

'A farm?' George asked. He gazed up at the ceiling and thought for a moment. 'Possible… It was very stinky.'

'And you don't remember how you got there?' Draco asked.

George shook his head and folded his arms, his sleeve nudging his dinner-plate.

As a double date this would have been disastrous, Hermione thought ruefully, despite Angelina's best efforts to keep the conversation flowing.

Luckily it was a fact-finding venture. The flat fields had convinced Hermione that Nethercross Farm was where George had been imprisoned.

'You said there were other prisoners…'

'Yeah. Poor chap without a tongue… He got taken away and replaced by another chap with a bag over his head. Had very shiny shoes. Pointy…'

'And there's the woman who kept screaming,' Angelina reminded him.

Her husband's face creased in anguish at the memory. 'That Troy bastard— he used Crucio on her, again and again. She sobbed so hard I thought she'd break… Ephraim's fellow stopped him. Said they needed her mind in one piece.'

Hermione and Draco exchanged looks. The sobbing woman clearly had valuable information…

'Ziff's going through every bit of data he can get his hands on to find this farm,' Draco said. 'Is there anything else you can think of that might help him?'

George scrunched up his eyes. 'Just fields… and an occasional smell I suppose. Icky-sweet.'

Draco was already texting Ziff…

Hermione and Angelina cleared the table.

'Don't you find it weird not using magic to do this?' Angelina asked, tottering under the weight of a haphazard pile of dishes.

'I'm Muggle-born, remember?'

'But what about Draco? He's used to an army of slaves…'

Hermione smiled weakly in return. 'He's more house-proud than I am…. You and George seem to be getting on well?'

Angelina frowned. 'We're trying. His nerves are shot, though… Comes from being stuck in a hole in the ground and treated like shit I guess. Bit freaky you finding this place through a painting where Draco's wife lives!'

'She's a prisoner…'

'Yeah. Gotta feel for her, haven't you?' Angelina said in a blasé manner that set Hermione's teeth on edge. 'Still, if she wasn't THERE, you wouldn't be HERE. With him…' Angelina sidled closer, a naughty smirk on her face. 'Not gonna lie… I see why you did it. He's fit as fuck. Takes control… Is he like that all the time?'

Hermione threw on the kitchen taps to soak the pans, avoiding Angelina's fevered gaze.

'You know I was probably one of the last people to speak to his wife,' Angelina continued blithely. 'Remember our art class at Madam Puddifoot's? There was an exhibition of our stuff the day she left – or maybe the day before… Draco came but skulked off pretty sharpish.'

Hermione brusquely turned off the taps.

'Do you remember which painting was Katya's?' Hermione asked urgently.

XXX

'Do you remember if Draco kissed her?' Hermione asked Angelina the following morning.

They were sitting in Madam Puddifoot's teashop. Hermione was nursing a cup of tea while Angelina tackled a supersized wedge of cranberry clafoutis, picking out the cranberries one by one until her cake was squidged into scrambled beige.

'If he did, it wasn't hot and lusty.' Angelina's eyelashes flickered playfully as she looked at Hermione. 'I bet he's good at that… hot and lusty.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Leave it out…'

'I'm just kidding!' Angelina chortled.

She wasn't though…

'You're not jealous, are you?' Angelina said, incredulous. 'Because there's really no need! That gorgeous man's crushing so hard on you it's almost embarrassing to be around. He wasn't like that with his wife… Got the feeling there wasn't much going on in that department, actually … she was kind of… young.'

'She wasn't.'

'It's how she felt, that's all. Oh, Madam Puddifoot's back!' Angelina sprang up from the table and sashayed over to a plump, bespectacled woman in pink with a violet swoosh of hair like a purple wave teetering on the top of her head.

Hermione sank into her seat and pulled up the hood of her cloak. She'd once represented Madam Puddifoot in a fraud trial. They'd won the case but too much exposure to Madam Puddifoot became a trial in itself…

Angelina and Madam Puddifoot disappeared into a room behind the counter.

Hermione's eyes drifted towards the frosted glass window facing onto the side-street where Madam Puddifoot's was tucked away. Unlike the High Street where so many shops remained charred and disfigured, this part of Hogsmeade was unscathed from the fire.

She was lost in thought when a jarring dash of blue sent her heart racing.

Ephraim was walking towards Madam Puddifoot's with Portia Witchell…

Hermione jumped out of her seat and threw herself onto the floor behind the counter as the doorbell jangled, signalling Ephraim's entrance.

There was a clatter of chairs and the squeak of a table as they sat down.

'This is so sweet of you, darling,' Portia intoned in sweet, cloying tones. 'It's been so boring not seeing you.'

'Been busy,' Ephraim replied, gruffly monosyllabic. There was the rustling of a newspaper.

'Campaigning, I suppose…'

'Nope.'

'Oh.' Portia slumped into silence. 'Well… if you want someone to practice these hustings with—'

'No need…'

'But you haven't got much time.'

'Yes I have.' There was a further, testy shake of newspaper.

'But aren't they this weekend?'

'Haven't decided… There might not be hustings at all.'

'But what about the other candidates? Won't THEY want hustings?'

'No one gives a crap about hustings, Portia…'

'But you said…'

'It's a campaign event. NOT hustings. In honour of the valiant citizens of Hogsmeade – all proceeds to the Hogsmeade Restoration Fund. Blah, blah, blah…'

'But you've told Julius Merriman now. He thinks there'll be hustings… And he's such a stickler.'

'Julius can go to hell,' Ephraim said snippily. The newspaper crackled as he smacked it onto the table. 'Why's there no service in this damned place?'

'Would you rather we went somewhere else? The Three Broomsticks, perhaps?'

'Too many people,' Ephraim groused. As he spoke, the doorbell chimed and there was a chorus of voices greeting their mayor.

Hermione decided there was sufficient commotion to sneak into the back-room, so she crawled on her hands and knees through the gap in the open door.

Madam Puddifoot was waiting, bristling with outrage. 'Is that horrid man still out there? I won't serve him you know! He lords it over us, raising rents to pay for the rebuilding of Hogsmeade… and then nothing gets done!'

XXX

Hermione and Angelina stared at Katya's painting of a spiky pink rosebush wondering what to try next. They'd cast every spell they could think of to try and break in but nothing had worked.

Hermione anxiously twirled her wand between her fingers. 'Either there's nothing there or Draco has to do it.'

'Do what?' he asked, bowling into the house with a grin on his face.

'What you so happy about?' she smiled in return.

'I just dropped the kids off to The Blue House with Parvati.' His eyes dropped to the painting.

'It didn't work for me.'

Draco sat on the sofa next to Hermione and took hold of her wand. He tapped the picture-frame and placed his hand on the surface of the painting. It instantly sank down. He delved inside, keeping his eyes on Hermione's face.

'Bingo,' he said in a low whisper, tugging free a sheaf of parchment and a small silver rose-charm.

The moment he pulled his hand out, the colours swirled back into place and the painting froze.

Hermione gazed at the final charm in his palm. 'Do we make the necklace now?'

He shook his head. 'No… Niko believes there'd be a way to hear Katya's message externally and record it, in case she says something incriminating against Ephraim.'

'Sensible,' Angelina remarked.

Hermione greedily browsed the wadge of parchment.

'Look at you,' Draco beamed. 'It's like all your Christmases came at once… and it's definitely Anna's work.' He leant into her and pointed to Anna Cornec's name on the inside cover, his hand glancing against hers.

Hermione's face fell. 'It's in French.'

He read over her shoulder. 'We can get it translated. Angelina can take it back to The Blue House.' His face was warm against hers and she shivered involuntarily at the feel of his breath on her cheek.

From midway the pages were old, yellowed and covered in a scratchy, spidery scrawl. Like the Vitruvian Man writing at Akhr Makan.

Hermione pushed the parchment away. 'Salvedra's funny runes.'

'I'll take this then,' Angelina said, picking it up. 'And tell Niko you've got the last charm.'

'We'll be over soon with the rest,' Draco assured her. Angelina raised a sceptical eyebrow and was off.

Draco instantly locked his arms around Hermione and drew her close. 'And finally… we're alone.'

Hermione twisted her arms around his neck and grinned. 'Aren't you more excited to find Anna's papers? And surely completing the charms is a huge relief after all this time?'

Draco buried his face into her neck and breathed deeply. 'Hermione… I realise this makes me very, very superficial, but the only thing I care about right now - that I've been wanting - is to be alone with you…' His mouth was hot on her face and then her lips… 'Everything else can wait.'

XXX

'Ziff's found this Nethercross Farm,' Elizaveta said, strapping on what looked alarmingly like a chest-plate.

'What the hell is THAT?' Draco asked, bemused.

Elizaveta hooked her long dreadlocked hair over her shoulder and flashed him one of her trademark silver smiles. 'From George's special collection… It's kinda cool.' She pulled a coal-black woollen cloak off a rack hanging in the hallway at The Blue House, wrapped it around herself, and strode outside – the very image of what Hermione as a child imagined witches should look like, until she found out she was one herself.

'We should go with them,' Hermione said to Draco as the Trace and Track Squad, plus George, assembled on the lawn to leave. Their plan was to scout the site for the prison-pits and possibly steal Katya's painting.

'Niko's been analysing the rose-charms. Says we should talk...'

'Can it wait?'

Draco stood, hand on hips, and hung his head.

'You know my feelings about this.'

'Mixed. At best,' she said bluntly.

He looked up at her and she smiled encouragingly. She could sense his struggle.

'So… let's say the picture's brought here… what then? Ginny will nag us endlessly to find a way to release Katya. It'll take over!'

'Then get Ginny to work on it herself,' Hermione said pithily. 'She's a brilliant witch.'

'And if she succeeds?'

'Then she succeeds... and we deal with it.'

Draco stared at her for a long time before answering... 'I fucked up so bad when I was younger, Hermione, I decided never to trust myself again. To not listen to inner inklings... to push them aside. It's kind of how we got into this mess, actually... I stopped listening.'

'What are you trying to say, Draco?'

'You switched me back on again. And I can't hide from my thoughts anymore. I used to think what I thought I should think - but now I'm properly thinking...'

'You're anxious!' she smiled, moving closer. 'That's normal.' But it was more than that. She could sense fear.

'What I had to do to open that fucking doll... that wasn't normal, Hermione.'

'No, it wasn't.' She eased out a long, shuddering breath...

There was a burst of laughter from outside. The Trace and Track Squad were sharing a joke.

'I should get a move on,' she said, rummaging in a bag of George's Shieldwear. She pulled out a chest-plate. 'Here, do me up.'

'Really?' Draco smiled. 'It's a toy. Not armour.'

'It's my warrior outfit!'

He stood behind her and fastened the straps, but he didn't move away. He pressed against her, a large, warm, weighty presence - and his hands slunk under the chest-plate, closing in over her breasts. She could feel his breathing quicken. 'I'll come with you,' he whispered.

His mouth dipped to kiss her neck and she closed her eyes and tilted her head, offering him more skin to glide his lips against. His hands fondled her breasts until her nipples were hard and aching and she could feel a knot of desire tightening inside of her. She could barely believe how aroused she felt considering they'd spent the afternoon making love.

'Coming?' Angelina's jocular voice rang out behind them. Draco instantly snapped his hands away from Hermione's breasts.

'You'll need to wear black… Harry's orders!'

XXX

There were lights on in the farmhouse – a red-brick L-shaped building backing directly onto acres of rutted fields. It was now obvious why Harry had insisted they wear black, because the terrain was flat and exposed.

Fortunately, the sky was blanketed in thick cloud hiding the stars and the moon was a thin, yellow sliver, affording them additional cover.

'Does this place seem familiar, George?' Harry said, casting a Muffliato.

But George was too busy fiddling with his chest-plate. 'I think there's a design fault,' he griped. 'It shouldn't itch like this.'

'Sounds more like a materials issue,' Oleg weighed-in, sagely.

Hermione tossed her head in frustration. Having decided to embark on this adventure, she was now desperate to get it over with and head back to Folkvangr.

'Maybe we split into two groups?' she suggested. 'One lot finds these prison-pits and that poor woman, while the other group investigates the farmhouse.'

Harry pondered this. 'Okay… let's see what Oleg comes up with first.' There was a flapping whirr of large, black wings and a crow shot into the sky.

They watched him fly into the darkness before circling round and round an area a few hundred metres away behind a long outhouse. He excitedly dived down before surging upwards.

'He's found something,' Elizaveta said.

'Okay, we'll split,' Harry said. 'Four of us - myself, Draco and the crows - we'll take the house… the rest of you check out those pits.'

'I'll go with the others,' Draco said. 'Four's too many for the house.'

'No. You just don't want to rescue the painting,' Angelina scowled. 'I'll go with Harry instead.'

'Any problems make for over there,' Harry said, pointing to a single, crooked tree in a far field. 'It's the only bloody landmark for miles.' He pulled a pencil-sharpener out of his pocket. 'Lucky I brought two.' He passed it to Draco.

XXX

'What the hell's that?' Hermione asked Henrik. She pointed to a light hovering in the sky in the near distance, beyond acres of ploughed black earth. It was too low for a star and it flickered – like a candle.

'A building of some kind,' Henrik replied.

Strange, Hermione thought, how the light kept blanking out and re-appearing… a rhythmic blip of darkness.

'There's some kind of animal over there,' Draco said in low tones, 'behind the fence.'

George blinked into the darkness. 'It's a guard dog. But not a very good one. It's asleep.'

Hermione tip-toed towards the paddock's perimeter fence. It wasn't a dog, she realised with a sinking heart… it was a wolf! She nudged her wand close to the fence and cast a spell that would keep him snoozing that bit longer.

George and Hermione checked for intruder charms while Henrik hoisted his rifle over his shoulder and scanned the area behind them. Draco tried the main gate on the off-chance it was open and then mumbled a series of unlocking spells.

'Won't get in this way,' he said grouchily. 'But this is definitely your prison, George.'

As their eyes grew accustomed to the dense darkness - a darkness so thick, it almost had texture, Hermione thought – they could make out two large black stains on the ground inside the paddock… giant holes.

Hermione gazed at the others. Their faces were faint grey smears peeking out from their black hooded cloaks.

'We only need one of us to get into the pen and see if this poor woman's here,' she said.

'Can't believe the wolf's their only security,' Draco said dubiously. 'Got to be something else.' He glanced at the farmhouse. More lights were coming on… 'Shit. They know we're here…'

'Ugh! That smell…It's the nasty, sweet one I was telling you about,' George complained. His voice was muffled by his cloak.

'There's a sugarbeet factory close by,' Hermione said. 'Helped Ziff find this place online.'

Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste. 'No, Hermione… it's a gas of some kind.'

For a brief moment Hermione's heart skipped a beat, fearing it was a Dark Flux agent…

'Not feeling too good,' Henrik groaned. He fell to his knees and vomited.

'Let's pull back to the tree!' Draco said in grating tones, but his words were swallowed up by a hacking cough that seemed to rock through him.

'Draco? You okay?' Hermione gasped.

'Yup… just a bit… fuck…' He was dry-retching uncontrollably.

In contrast, George was remarkably unfazed.

'Are you able to Apparate?' she asked Draco in agonised tones.

Maybe they used the gas to disable intruders? Hermione thought. Her stomach suddenly felt like a washing-machine had exploded inside of her, but she wasn't anywhere near as bad as Draco and Henrik.

'It'll pass,' Draco assured her, but then he clutched his stomach and his face contorted in pain.

Hot panic bubbled up inside of her. 'I'm going to get them away from here!' she said to George.

'It's okay, I will,' he said, grasping both men by the arm.

And they were gone, leaving Hermione alone with only the darkness and a sleeping wolf for companions.

She was sharply aware of a full blaze of lights irradiating from an area close to the farmhouse and there were voices calling out to each other.

Someone screamed… was that Angelina?

BUGGER, she thought, pushing other thoughts aside – she had to do what she could to find and rescue the woman in the pits, but she'd feel stronger if she used colour-magic… it was quicker, more reactive.

She closed her eyes and focused hard on the black pits in the paddock, trying to sense a presence… somebody trapped a long way down… Her mind felt like it was tumbling faster and faster into a depthless space.

Yes... someone was there.

She strained to hear... Small, frightened bleats; barely perceptible…

A wave of sickness shot through her, like a small tornado charging through her digestive system. She hoped it wasn't a delayed reaction to the gas. She could taste it in her mouth now - like molten metal. And hot bile was scorching her gullet. She tried to scotch it by deepening her colour... drawing it into herself. But to her relief, the sickly feeling – like the super-sweet gas - was already passing...

She cast a cautious glance at the wolf…thankfully still asleep. But she had to act fast because she could hear footsteps stampeding into the outbuilding ahead of her.

Who was in the pit? She had to somehow project her mind's eye… I can do this, she thought.

Two shining orbs peered out of the darkness; like a small rodent hiding in the shadows. Waiting…

She decided to lift them upwards, combining Levicorpus with the strength of her colour-magic to keep the woman upright – conjoining two magical pathways, just like Gunter had instructed.

Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. The effort was so great it felt like her mind might bleed, but then she felt a surge of relief, a loosening, a flowing ease…

She opened her eyes and a woman was dangling high in the sky, her arms flapping in panic, mouth open in a silent scream… Hermione was so shocked she almost let go.

She quickly mastered herself and reeled her in over the sleeping wolf and the high fence and lowered her to the ground. The woman was shaking with fear.

A blinding green flash whistled past Hermione's ear... And a further round of wand-fire was illuminating the paddock.

Hermione sunk onto the ground beside the woman. 'Don't panic. I'm going to get you out of here... Hold onto me!'

But where to? There were criss-crossing spears of light in the distance, out in the fields by the tree…

'Hermione!' Draco hissed from the darkness, sliding to the ground. At that exact same moment, a group of wizards rounded the paddock and a fresh volley of green and red shots pierced the darkness.

A ferocious growl erupted inches from Hermione's face and her heart-rate soared… the wolf was awake.

Draco clapped his hands on her shoulder and all three Apparated to the tree where Harry was firing shots across the field… Hermione didn't dare count how many attackers were heading their way, but there were too many...

Was this a country retreat for the Blasters? A training centre? She was sure she recognised Jervis Scrimshaw... and was that Edgar Rosier?

Henrik stepped from behind the tree and a thunderous report exploded into her ears… He appeared to track someone who was rounding the back of them and a second powerful shot was unleashed followed by a thump.

A third shot rang out. Hermione glanced back. A choked-off gurgle and a man fell sideways, his wand flying into the air.

'Here!' Harry yelled, holding out a small object, indistinguishable in the gloom.

She looked back and saw a large, grey beast running, rapier-speed, towards them…

'Now!' Harry bellowed and Hermione corkscrewed with dizzying velocity and fell onto the soft, wet lawns of The Blue House.

The woman they had rescued was yowling and was immediately carried away by George and Oleg.

Arlene, garbed in a white gown, her face illuminated by a candle, ushered them inside.

Katya's picture lay on the ground beside Hermione. She looked at it – faintly shining in the wispy moonlight, smelling of lacquer and old, dark wood. She could vaguely make out the contours and lines of the stumpy tower and the teardrop lake.

She's here now… she thought.

Draco was staring down at them. 'We need to cover it up,' he said brusquely, 'before anyone sees who or where we are.'

Hermione took her cloak off, realising she was a little slow and dazed, and wrapped it around the painting as best she could.

'Are you alright?' she said to Elizaveta who was hunched on the ground close by clutching her chest.

With a throaty groan, Elizaveta ripped off the chest-plate. 'Got hit by something nasty. This bloody thing saved my life.' She started to laugh; a creaking, gusty laugh, like a pair of old bellows, and her teeth glinted at Hermione in the darkness.

'You know what? I think the chest-plates defended us from the gas as well,' Hermione said, thinking that George had been unaffected and she'd withstood the worst.

Bill and Gunter were pacing purposefully across the lawn.

'The painting I take it?' Gunter said. Draco nodded and marched towards The Blue House.

Bill and Gunter carried the painting into the house.

'Keep it covered at all times,' Hermione warned.

The woman they'd rescued was sitting at the kitchen table. Arlene had draped a blanket over her shoulders and was mopping her face, urging her to drink some soup.

She was a striking dark-skinned woman, once plump but with hollowed cheeks and large, bright eyes fringed by thick eyelashes. She tried to smile but quickly faltered.

'What's your name, love?' Arlene asked kindly.

'Binta... Binta Koranteng,' the lady said. 'I've been in that hole for a very long time… months and months…' Her voice was thin and raspy. She again tried to smile but was too tired to succeed. 'Thank you for helping me.'

Hermione almost jumped for joy because if anyone could make sense of Anna's papers, it was her… 'So you're the same Binta who worked with Tony Goldstein on Gimlott's and Dark Flux?'

Binta nodded. 'Yes. And I suspect that's the main reason I'm still alive.'

XXX

CHAPTER TRACKS:

"GOUGE AWAY" by THE PIXIES

"THE ARCHITECT" by PALOMA FAITH

"INSPIRATION!" by W.H. LUNG

"FINAL DAYS" by MICHAEL KIWANUKA

"MACHINE" by THE HORRORS

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters.