Chapter 11
It was nearly midnight and Ron, though enjoying time with Harry and his family, had watched Hermione most of the night. She had left about an hour prior, saying her goodbyes with tired and apologetic eyes.
Harry, Ginny and nearly the entire Weasley clan were three sheets to the wind. George and Angelina had sandwiched Hermione into a hug between them goading Ron to join them. She had given him a subtle nod with an appreciative glimmer. He returned it. Despite his most concerted effort, his body warmed at the idea that they would be together, alone again.
Fortunately for Ron, Spivey had put a few Aurors on duty (who secretly wanted to be at the wedding anyway) to corral and guide inebriated party-goers home safely. Ron watched as the newest Auror recruit from Academy, Turbeck, tried to politely shuffle Great Uncle Bartholemew towards the nearest apparition point. He proceeded to pretend to fall down in pain, then chuckle on the floor as he watched Turbeck gasp in horror.
Ron didn't need any help, despite the mix of enjoyment and dread. He tried to be patient and not let on that anything was amiss. Between drinks, Harry gave him a few sideways glances, mouthing concern and questions. Ron tried to reassure Harry (and himself) that everything was fine.
By midnight, Ron was pacing back and forth in his living room. He wanted Hermione here now, and if he had known that the nerves of waiting for her would be worse than just forcing her to stand next to him the entire night, he would have done that earlier.
Minutes passed and Hermione had not arrived. He flipped the coin between his fingers. It was meant to receive messages not send them, he was sure. Just like his old DA coin. He could only receive brief messages and notes when it warmed to his touch. This coin, one that looked very similar, but had slightly different etchings, was still stone cold and unchanging.
Nearly thirty minutes passed and he couldn't be sure whether he should go looking for her or not. Had she decided not to come? She had been very all over the place. Had he misread her signals? Had she changed her mind?
He doubted it, but still he was unsure. How could he even know where she would be? She made it perfectly clear that she was no longer at her apartment. She and her tent could be anywhere. He wouldn't even know where to begin.
He wanted to call Harry, instantly regretting not letting the other third of their group in on what was going on. He would be furious with Ron when he found out. Instead, Ron had kept his mouth shut and watched as Harry and Ginny apparated away to their honeymoon. They made it quite clear that there would be no visitors or communication to the undisclosed location - though Ron knew that, of course, Ginny got her way about the beach.
He sat up for hours, waiting and hoping that she would apparate in late, apologizing and talking non-stop about a new lead or one of her old ones so they could close this case. But more than that, he wanted her to come in and then interrupt her with a firm and protective hug. He just wanted to know she was safe.
The next morning streamed through the living room window and Ron woke up, half-sitting and half-leaning on the couch, a trail of drool sliding down his cheek.
His body ached in the uncomfortably contorted way it had slept. He pulled himself up and immediately thought of Hermione. No matter how flighty she was these days, there was no way that he would be keeping his distance. He had been patient, now it was time to act.
After running some cold water over his face and changing into something less formal, he calculated where he should go first. It was a Sunday, but he figured that wouldn't stop Hermione from getting some work done. He would have to start there.
After hours of searching the Ministry, her favorite parks, Grimmauld Place, and anywhere else he could think of, he decided, for better or worse he would go to her flat. She had finally given him the address after they had finished snogging the other day. The day that seemed so far away.
He apparated to the front of the apartment and climbed the stairs. It looked perfectly inconspicuous from the outside, and appeared to be in a muggle neighborhood. It didn't surprise him. He was sure she would want a place that was easily accessed by her parents.
His wand was already out and at the ready even before he knocked. No one answered. He expected that. What he didn't expect was that with a few twists of the doorknob, the door gently swung open. It was unlike Hermione to leave the door unlocked even if she were not staying in her apartment. He gently pushed the door open, whispering incantations to prevent anything unsuspecting to fly his way.
"Homenum Revelio." He called quietly as he entered the flat.
As he walked in, he was sure it was Hermione's flat. The colors she used on the walls, the rug, the fabrics that lined the chairs and lounge all called to him, all reminded him of her. Picture frames lined the hearth of her small fireplace, mostly of her, Ron, and Harry. Some of her with her parents. He wanted to spend time looking at him, but his eyes were drawn to something on the coffee table.
He tensed as he picked up the folded piece of paper and read the name scribbled on top.
Ron Weasley
He flipped the piece of parchment open. There was only one scraggly line of writing on the center of the page.
This is what happens when you cross me.
Ron's throat constricted. He didn't need to know the man's handwriting. He didn't need to see a signature. He knew it was him. It was Kovac. This is how he planned to get Ron back. This is how he was going to make Ron suffer.
All of a sudden everything converged on Ron. He dropped to his knees, grabbing hold of the edge of the coffee table for support as he tried to breathe. The panic attack was rising as more and more clicked into place.
Ron knew he had been close. He knew that Kovac was dangerous, and he had let him escape. And now, this was the consequence. Hermione was the consequence.
Ron had put Hermione in danger. She was being stalked, not out of admiration, but out of vengeance on Ron.
He read the line once more, trying to glean any information from it that he could. It was useless. He let out a howl of pain and fury.
He pulled himself up, wand in one hand, parchment in the other.
"Expecto Patronum" he called into the air and a corporeal luminescent dog bounded through the air leaving white streaks of light in its wake.
"Director. Kovac made a move. Meet me at the Ministry now!" His voice wavered, but before he could lose his mind to his emotions he watched the corporeal dog disappear through the door and he apparated to the Ministry. They would find Hermione.
It had been over a week. Ron now slept at the Ministry, living off of tea and biscuits from the break room. He had gone on every raid to potential hideouts of Kovac and each time came up with nothing. Avery had been by his side the entire time, not out of misplaced love, but out of support for one of her friends and colleagues.
It was nearly midnight on the 8th day since he'd seen Hermione. The first few nights everyone worked overtime and late into the night searching for her. Even Firenze joined in on the hunt calling as many contacts as he was aware. They did everything, and every single stone was upturned and empty.
Ron didn't know what else to do. He tried not to think of what could be happening to her. Tried not to think of how haunted he was of his time with Kovac and the group he exposed. The danger he saw would be nothing compared to the torture Kovac would impart on her.
Ron lay his chin on his desk. Most of his free time was either looking for new places or people to interrogate, or staring at the Galleon she gave him. He had watched it so long that he had memorized the miniatures swirls and etchings around the side. His only wish at this point was that this gold coin would magically shift. Unfortunately, each passing day led to more depression and hopelessness. Did she have the coin with her? If she did, was she even alive to use it?
That though brought bile up in his throat so he dismissed it immediately. She had to be alive.
Spivey had been staying later in his office as well, knowing that Ron needed support until Harry returned. While Spivey didn't show support by way of hugs and consoling conversations, the fact that he'd stayed at the office til midnight every night since Hermione was taken, meant something to Ron.
Ron was starting to doze off when he felt a weird sensation in his hand. It was a warmth that turned into a scalding burn on his palm.
"Achh!" He hissed as he dropped the coin onto his desk.
He'd dreamed it so many times, that he had to rub his eyes to be sure it was happening. Slowly, but clearly, a simple message appeared on the smooth surface of the coin's face.
"Spivey" Ron screeched as he stood up.
Ron leaned his head in as he read the words on the surface of the coin.
"Cave. Water. Cold. Help."
Ron's body nearly cracked in half, partially for joy that she was still alive, and the other part dread at what she was going through.
"Gods." Spivey breathed, then called out his Patronus of a warthog to gather Aurors on call.
"A cave." Ron said as he grabbed a map of Britain.
One by one, Aurors popped in, some who had clearly been sleeping. Everyone went to work immediately, pulling together all options. Time passed as they strategized, but Ron wasn't sure how long.
"Another one!" Ringold called. He had been assigned the coin while they were listing out and narrowing down options.
"Cliffs, dark, Ron help me." Ringold called out as Ron raced over to the coin.
Ron watched as his name etched in the coin.
"Cliffs?" Avery called out, questioningly. "It's got to be this one."
"There are reports of Kovac being nearby and it's a perfect hideout with few passers by. It's worth checking out."
Ron nodded. He had glanced through the full list of options and nothing fit as perfectly as that one did.
"Let's go." Ron called out. A few Aurors were ready to follow him into battle, but Spivey held him back.
"Weasley, take a breath. You are in no state to lead a mission."
"I'm not staying here." Ron growled back. Spivey wasn't threatened.
"No, but Avery will be taking the lead. Your goal is to find Granger, hers is to apprehend Kovac. Understand?"
Ron would have agreed to anything at that moment in time, especially if it meant getting Hermione back safe and sound.
"Avery, you arrive first with Thorn and Periweather. Weasley, you follow behind with Ringold and Lancaster."
Ron nodded. "Okay everyone, The Frozen Deep, just outside. On Avery's mark. We don't know if this is a trap."
Ron gulped. His mind was only on Hermione at this moment, it hadn't even crossed his mind that this was a trap. He appreciated Spivey's strategic thinking, and would be ready to kill to find her.
Ron arrived at The Frozen Deep a few seconds after Avery's group. Each member had the tips of their wands alight outside the cavernous blackness of the cave entrance. The water was crashing against the cliffs and millions of stars stretched across the sky. He watched as Avery huddled together with her team and they made a plan to go inside. He wanted more than anything to be the first one in, but knew that if he was going to get to Hermione, it needed a team effort.
He watched as Avery's team entered, and he followed close behind with Ringold and Lancaster.
"Lumos" all three called out, as they entered the dark cavern. It was enormous, and he could hear dripping water come down from the stalactites in the ceiling.
"Over here!" He heard Avery's voice echo. All three followed and watched as Avery and the others stood over a burly and overgrown Kovac in the corner of the room.
"She must have knocked him out." Avery said, quieter this time. She pointed her lit wand over Kovac and Ron noticed he had a deep gash on his forehead. His burly and overgrown physique looked crumpled and weak lying on the floor like that.
Ron didn't spend much time looking at him as he whirled around looking for Hermione. That's when he spotted her, curled up under a recessed wall clutching her wand, the galleon nearby. He pointed his wand in her direction and paced over as fast as he could.
"Ron?" She croaked shielding her eyes from the light of his wand. As he crouched down to her level he was able to get a good look at her. Her hair was caked down, her curls matted. Scratches covered her face and arms. She was shaking so hard he thought she might disintegrate.
"Gods, Hermione." He breathed, and grabbed her gently wrapping his arms around her. "It's going to be okay."
She nodded her head and nuzzled into his chest. Ron breathed a sigh of relief.
They watched as Avery and the other two Aurors pulled Kovac into a standing position. All Ron wanted to do was send an unforgivable curse his way, but held back when Hermione interrupted his thoughts.
"Can we leave, please?" Her mousy voice wavered as she curled into his arms.
"Of course." Ron said softly, rubbing her back tenderly.
"What's going on?" Kovac had a thick Eastern European accent that Ron remembered well. Avery pulled him up and cautiously dragged him out of the cave.
"You're going to Azkaban, that's what's going on." Ron heard Avery's words echo as they exited the cave.
It was, in fact, colder than ice in the cave. Ringold handed down his jacket to put around Hermione. Ron hadn't even bothered with his jacket. He had only had a one track mind, to get to her.
"Let's get you to St. Mungo's and you can tell us what happened." He said gently, pulling her into a standing position. She looked frail and disheveled, but not entirely without her faculties.
"No." She said rather forcefully. "Can we...go back to your place? I just need to rest." She reassured him. Though he was surprised by her forwardness, he was well aware that she wouldn't want to go to St. Mungo's, as usual, and he was sure she wouldn't want to go back to her apartment.
"Of course." He said softly. He looked over to Lancaster, "We'll be by in the morning to give a full report." He said. Lancaster glanced over at Hermione and back to Ron, then gave a look that was gone within an instant.
"Alright, I'll let Director Spivey know."
All three nodded and apparated out.
It was a quiet night and Hermione didn't talk much. He helped her into another oversized t-shirt and apparated to her apartment to pick up some extra clothes.
He washed a few wounds and managed to successfully heal some of her cuts with a few spells.
He let her slide into his bed and under the covers. She lay there so quiet and distant. It almost felt like she had shifted. The once familiar feeling that settled between them seemed foreign and unusual.
His heart mourned for that familiar feeling again. What had she been through?
"I'm sorry, Hermione." He said softly, sitting at the edge of the bed. His guilt and vulnerability all-consuming at this moment. He could barely look at her.
"It's all right Ron, I'm here now. That's all that matters," she said, genuinely.
There was another silence in the room.
"Will you stay in bed with me tonight?" She asked quietly.
Ron looked over at her. Again it was more forward than she was normally, but her features were pleading, and he would do just about anything for her at this point.
He went around to the other side of the bed, kicked off his shoes and crawled in. She glanced over at him, and he suddenly felt awkward. He didn't quite know what to do. Should he grab her and pull her close, or should they give each other space? This wasn't the time to have any deep conversations. This was a time to rest and they both needed to rest if they were going to get through tomorrow's interview at the Auror Office. Before he had time to think too much about it, she wriggled her way towards him and into his chest. He reflexively wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. They drifted off to sleep in each others' comforting embrace.
"You're in here, ya Goblin piss." A towering and deeply loathing voice growled. The Azkaban Warden used his dirt-covered dragonhide boot to kick the oversized, hairy figure onto the floor into the desolate, stone cell.
The door slammed shut and a stone lock could be heard clicking loudly into place.
The floor was cold and the room smelled of urine and rot. There was a small window which only offered shadows and fear. Random splashes of sea mist thickened the room. The claws of misery and loneliness took hold.
"But...You've got the wrong person…I'm Hermione Granger." She coughed in an unfamiliar Easter European accent before the odious chill of the Dementors began sucking at her lifeforce.