A/N: Dears, I'm still looking for English beta.
I hoped to be able to translate this story but obviously there are mistakes that make it hard to read. So if there is somebody who can help me, please send me a private message.
Published 18th of October, 2020
Hermione's apartment
5:30 p.m.
Hermione had no idea how many times she had walked between the fireplace and small table, or how many times she had sat down on the couch and jumped at the slightest noise that could announce Harry's arrival in the fireplace. She only knew, or rather felt, that her legs were sore and her head was starting to hurt. And all the muscles.
She went to the window and stood sideways, so that she could watch the cars on the street even if in true she didn't see anything.
At the same time, out of the corner of her eye she kept an eye on what was going on in the apartment and unconsciously tugged the hem of her sweater.
She saw the sudden glow of green flames for a fraction of a second before she heard their muffled crack.
„Finally!" She screamed at the sight of Harry jumping out of them.
The boy instinctively brushed the dust off his shoulder and put the bag on the table.
"You were supposed to be at five!" Hermione added with a hint of resentment.
"I'm happy that I managed to get you a pass so don't complain" Harry cut her off.
From one of the compartments of the bag he pulled out a more than a foot long, rather thick piece of wood and handed it to his friend. She took it automatically and only when she turned it, she saw that there was a hole in the wood on one side. It looked like it was obscured by some thin glass, but when she tried to touch it, her fingers sank into something icy. It was as if she had touched one of the ghosts at Hogwarts.
"Don't touch there" she heard Harry.
"What is this?" Harry sat down heavily on the couch.
"This is the Azkaban pass" he explained. "Since dementors neither speak nor see, the only way to communicate with them is to deliver messages to them in ... the language of feelings. And giving items with certain forms."
The girl ran her fingers over the cold wood and felt a mark on it.
"We call them Regalium" Harry continued. "This Regalium is a sign of power and a request at the same time."
Hermione looked at her friend with sudden hope in her eyes. At noon, they almost had an argument because Hermione was pushing for Snape's immediate release and Harry didn't share her confidence in his innocence and argued that if so, he needed to know exactly who was behind it. He didn't even want to agree to visit Azkaban, but Hermione managed to convince him by saying that there was a good chance that Snape knew who was the killer.
But maybe in the afternoon he found some evidence and now ...
"To free him?" She asked, straightening up.
The boy tucked a pillow behind his back and leaned against it.
"No. This is a visit request. Very important personalities or Aurors have the right to talk to some prisoners. You will play the role of Auror."
"Can they refuse? And ... do something to me?" Despite the effort to contain her fear, her voice trembled slightly.
She didn't have many memories of the dementors, but the ones she had made her shudder at the thought of standing in front of them.
"No!" Harry replied immediately and loosened the girl's hand tightened on Regalium. "Don't be afraid, they won't hurt you. There is also a feeling of power in this Regalium. You represent the Ministry of Magic and Dementors have no right to stop you."
"And this is supposed to be a sign of the Ministry for them?" the strange symbol didn't remind anything to Hermione.
Harry stared at the symbol ﬗ he had engrave on Regalium half an hour ago. "No. This is the sign for Snape" he explained. "Each prisoner is marked differently and this is how the dementors recognize them."
Hermione ran her finger over the wood, which, despite keeping in warm hand was still cold and suddenly she remembered the horcrux and was sure it would never heat up. Something that could convince Dementors could not be ... good.
At the same time the words "Snape Prisoner" made something jerk inside her. Merlin, that can not happen! She couldn't leave him like that! NOT THIS TIME!
"Tell me what to do" she asked and the determination in her voice surprised her.
Harry nodded slowly.
"You Apparate exactly in front of the entrance to the fortress. It will be dark, so…" he shook his head and sighed. "It's always dark there. So cast Lumos Maxima, don't look around and go quickly to the entrance. There you will find something like ... a guardroom. Conjure Patronus, give them Regalium and wait for..."
„... THEM...? How many will be there ... ?!"
„A few. You'll do it" Harry assured her. "They will give you a register kept by the Ministry to sign. Sign it as Klaudia Hopkins. You'll have to give them your wand, so before you do..."
Hermione felt her heart speed up. There was no discussion about it so far!
„I have to give them my wand? Are you sure? They won't take it away from me? What about the Patronus? How can I conjure it, when it disappears?"
Harry wasn't surprised at all, he himself had the same objections during his first visits.
„Cast Statis Patronum, this way you will keep the Patronus during all your visit."
„Well. And then?"
"They'll take you to Snape's cell and then come back to bring you outside. And ... when you leave, remember TO NOT GO TO THE RIGHT after leaving the fortress. Will you remember?"
Hermione froze and looked at him with big eyes.
"... Why?"
„Because if you go to the right, you fall into the sea and drown."
The girl reached up sharply to her forehead and brushed away non-existent strands of hair, but Harry was sure she just wanted to hide her face from him.
"Look, I really think I'd better go there" he suggested for the tenth time.
Hermione got up and gripped her wand and Regalium tightly. In narrow jeans, a hanging sweater with long sleeves and hair tied in a tight bun she looked terribly fragile.
„No, no. I can manage" she assured him quickly and a little frantically.
"Are you sure? Hermione ... I have to warn you. Prepare you for a horror."
The girl swallowed loudly, stretched her arms out to him and hugged him tightly. Very tightly.
"I'll go" she repeated stubbornly. "I have some ideas. I will discuss them with Professor Snape and maybe we can come up with something together."
And before Harry could react, she stepped back and desapparated with a loud crash.
Harry sighed loudly.
He didn't think this meeting would help. Hermione could imagine a long conversation with Snape, but he already knew what was happening to the people in Azkaban. And he was convinced that Snape was no longer in a state where he could discuss anything with her.
He walked over to the fireplace and thrown some Floo powder into it. It was time to come back home.
Ministry of Magic
Section of Regulation and Authorization
At the same time
"In principle I haven't really seen anything special" announced Benjamin Carpenter to Octavia. "Apart from normal patients she didn't meet anyone."
He sat a little stiffly in the chair in front of the older witch, twirling his wand in his fingers. He didn't like to come with anything. Each time in such situations he was afraid that he would be seen from the perspective of the information he brings. As if the fact that he didn't see anything suspicious meant he was working badly. Of course, no one said anything like that but that's how he felt.
„In principle?" Octavia asked. "What do you mean?"
Benjamin didn't know if he didn't go too far, but since she asked...
"Granger felt like she was… distracted. I heard that she is a great Healer, very thorough and conscientious, but both yesterday and today she looked like she was thinking about something else. In the morning one guy, probably her boss, had to call her three times before she came to him and in the afternoon she left a tray of potions vials in one room and then looked for it". He shrugged apologetically.
Octavia looked at him a little worried. Hermione - distracted? She had never seen anything like it before. Was she thinking about something else or about SOMEONE else?
"Thank you very much, my dear" she said finally. "Watch her one more day."
After the young boy said goodbye and left, the witch checked the calendar when she wrote the letter to Carcassonne. On the fifth of May, so the day before yesterday. She should get an answer soon.
Very good. Three days of observation will be enough and with a good conscience you will be able to give Hermione the answer to her request for the ingredients list.
Rathlin Island, Ireland
At the same time
Anthony O'Connell rubbed on his forehead all dragon scales he had and looked at his watch. Merlin, it should pass in about one hour. Hopefully as soon as possible.
The pain just burst his head and now he cursed himself for having waited so long. One would think that in old age man is wiser ... But no, dumb as a troll!
"Maggy, I'm going to lie down for a while" he said to his wife, struggling to his feet from the chair and shuffling into the bedroom.
There he pulled back the curtains with a wave of his wand, wincing slowly settled into bed and pulled the covers over his head
London,
At the same time
Ann finished sewing her son's torn sweatshirt, shook it hard and held it up to the light. Now a smoothing spell and no one will even see that Danny plaid with his neighbors' dog.
"Swetheart, come see how mom has nicely fixed your clothes!" she called out.
Little boy was sitting on the floor with the bricks scattered all around from which he was to build Hogwarts. When he heard her voice, he turned on all fours, stood up slowly and walked over her. He walked, not ran.
"Look" she showed him her sweatshirt. "Next time you have to be careful."
Danny didn't answer, just cuddled against her shoulder.
"How are you feeling, darling?" Ann pushed hair from his forehead and only now noticed that his forehead was burning. "Something hurts you?"
„Head" answered Danny with tears in his eyes. „And belly."
Ann got up and took her son in her arms.
"You know what, we'll eat something and go to sleep. Mom will make a chocolate and you will feel better immediately. Do you want a chocolate?"
"Yes," the boy sobbed.
The witch seated him in small armchair in shape of a coiled dragon, quickly made hot chocolate and gave him a bottle. The little one drank a little, but left more than half.
„I do-want anymore."
"It does't matter. Mom will drink the rest" she smiled and picked him up again to carry him to his room. "Now you will go to sleep and when you wake up you will feel much better."
"Promise?"
„I promise, darling"
At Grandma Kirke ", Diagon Alley, London
At the same time
As every day, the loud noise completely drowned out the music that was coming from the radio standing just above the counter. In fact no one paid attention to it, except perhaps an elderly witch in a strange hat with peacock feathers, who was looking in this direction. Everyone else were engaged in heated discussion; some burst out laughing, others gesticulated indignantly, others just stared with interest at the speaker. Each group tried to speak up louder then others and in this way slowly, slowly started another joyful evening.
"Four butterbeers!" The barman exclaimed, placing four mugs on the counter with a fluid gesture and pushed them to a group of boys dressed in Wasps colors.
The alluring waitress approached the table next to the counter and after a while one of the men sat her on his lap and despite protests of the girl he did not want to let her out of his arms.
"Hands off or you'll be hanging from the ceiling till the end of the evening!" shouted the barman at him.
But he didn't get a chance to hear the answer as the door burst open and a joyful group of young wizards entered. The first of them, clearly already pickled, tore off a white rag from his head that turned out to be a diaper and roared:
„Bill ! Fire for eee-veryone! I buuuuy the next rou-round for everyone - hic! - who congratulate me! Bbbirth of boy! Hic!"
The noise subsided for a moment, only to explode even louder as everyone began shouting congratulations to the young father.
The young father yanked from his coat a pouch with gold, threw it on the counter and staggered onto the first vacant chair. And after a while he fell to the ground, but to tell the truth, in fact no one paid attention to it.
Howden Dam
At the same time
Peter stepped back as far as possible when the brew in the cauldron began to boil violently and sputter and he counted to twenty. Every time around twenty the last bubbles were dancing on the surface and he could add a few more droplets of bundimun secretions.
He glanced over his shoulder at that damned asshole Gratus–Crapus" who as usual was staring at the moving pictures in Comet of Passion and smiled to himself. He has already found how he could get rid of him - when this horny guy "read" his favorite newspaper, he didn't see the world around him. Unfortunately, apart from that, he didn't have much reason to smile. Until now, he had found no way out of this damned trap.
Besides, Old Tylor told him to brew poison, not a healing potion. Which meant that new ghosts will join these who already haunted his dreams.
Bloody old bastard. B like Bloody and B like Bastard. He has all the ingredients for a healing potion! Moon water will be enough for hundreds or thousands of doses of antidote!
He knew this because this Bloody Bastard had recently said that the last big delivery had just arrived from Carcassonne.
Peter released two more drops of bundimun secretions into the cauldron and jumped back.
He had a plan. To get out of here, to inform in an anonymous way that Tylor is behind all these deaths and hide somewhere at the end of the world.
Except that first he had to get away from here.
So for now, he had no choice but to brew real poison. If his brew hadn't killed, Bloody Bastard would have realized after one day that Peter wanted to change sides and would have killed him. Probably in a very painful way.
And this Peter was terribly afraid of.
The brew finished sputtering, so he added the bundimun secretions once more and stepped back further until he touched a pair of legs. He kicked it hard, as if by accident and heard the newspaper being put aside and a loud curse.
"Move those clodhoppers from here, if I make a potion wrong, Mr. Tylor won't be pleased" he growled and suppressed a smile. Now he could piss off Gratus-Crapus.
North Sea
Azkaban
5:45 pm
Hermione had never seen Azkaban, but if she had any doubts if she Apparated in a right place, she would have lost them immediately.
She arrived on the hard, uneven rock and immediately felt where she was.
In the dense twilight she saw some gigantic black wall towering in front of her and felt an overwhelming cold and something else.
But she didn't have time to precise what it was, for in the next second a furious gust of wind tugged her so much that it pressed her breath out of her chest and at the same time a huge wave shattered with a roar somewhere nearby, muffling the howling of the wind. A white foam shot high up and immediately fell and streams of water spread in all directions, spilling into her shoes.
Hermione screamed in pain. It felt as if all her bones had been crushed! She jumped pointlessly in place and at the same moment the sea around her churned and receded so abruptly that the girl barely kept her balance. She gasped and, clenching her toes, looked around.
The enormous structure, backlit by a pale, dim glow was barely distinguishable from the dark heavy clouds that blended with equally heavy tempestuous sea and made the horizon simply disappear. Huge waves on liquid iron color run from all sides towards this small remain of land, lost in the middle of nowhere.
At the same time, everything around was filled with something indescribable, something that pressed to the ground, restrained breathing and tied arms and legs with some invisible, hurting rope. Hermione felt as if she were carrying a rock on her shoulders.
She cast Lumos Maxima, looked up and Understood.
All around there were long, black, thin figures, whose tattered robes moved slowly, torn by blasts of wind, like lepers who had already lost some parts of their body.
Dementors. Some drifted far away from the enormous wall, but a few moved slowly towards her.
Hermione gasped in horror and ran to the black crack in the wall ahead. She plunged into it, lifted her wand and shining a dim light she run forward in a hurry, wading through something thick and vibrating with the rhythm of her footsteps.
A dozen yards further she run across another group of dementors that were waiting for her in a large room.
They stank of rot and cold. And poignant sadness.
Patronus! Conjure a Patronus!
Hermione tried to focus on a good memory, but she didn't have any. No good souvenirs, as if her whole life was one horror. She lost her parents, she lost so many friends, she didn't even try to save Snape and he could die because of her, her cat died, she and Ron broke up, all the years at Hogwarts she was constantly followed by Voldemort's shadow and before that everyone was laughing at her ugly teeth ... It all rumbled in her head and slowly obscured the whole world ...
Do not give up!
Hermione shook her head vigorously, thoughts rattled like puzzles and suddenly the memory of graduating from her study appeared. She saw how, after the announcement of the results, all the graduates jumped up with a triumphant shout, threw their tiaras upwards and some in a frenzy of exaltation climbed the tables and began to dance!
The words "Expecto Patronum!" still echoed in the air when cheerful silver otter appeared and started to jump around her and the rock on her shoulders grew a little lighter.
The black figures did not move, they still hovered the air, facing her. As if they were waiting for something. For what? Should I tell them something?
She cleared her throat and clenched her hands nervously and then felt a cold piece of wood. Of course, Regalium!
She was standing next to a flat, unevenly hewn stone, so without thinking she put the Regalium on it and felt immediate relief. One of the dementors reached for it and seeing a hand covered with skin that had color of decomposing corpse, scabbed and with lichen, Hermione screamed and backed away violently, as far from it as possible.
The Dementor held Regalium very close for an endless moment, absorbing the message. This one obviously must satisfy it, because it waved its long hand at the stone and retreated to its place.
Merlin, what now?
Despite the otter next to her Hermione was afraid to tear her eyes away from the terrifying creatures. But she didn't have any other choice, so she glanced at the stone and saw an open book lying a little further away.
This must be the register Harry was talking about!
On each page covered with thick glass or plastic there were a few lines with dates, symbols of prisoners and the names and surnames of visitors. Hermione made sure the Dementors were still in the same places and looked for quill and ink, but saw nothing. Apparently she had to sign it up using her wand.
The Otter seemed to sense her fears, because it jumped on the stone and froze right in front of the register, separating the girl from these creatures.
When Harry told her to sign up as Klaudia Hopkins, it occurred to her that she should learn to fake Claudia's handwriting first, but now, as she wrote, she understood that it wasn't necessary. The presence of the Patronus helped, but just a bit. Her hand was shaking so much that it was only with the greatest difficulty somebody could recognize the individual letters. She went off the line a few times, wrote some letters one upon another and the last one she did not write at all. Light burst out to the side, Hermione jumped in horror, her wand moved sharply and crossed out her name.
One of the dementors moved towards her with a torch and the girl abruptly backed away until she hit the rock with her back. With it came an icy cold and a terrible stench and Hermione suddenly realized that she will not approach it and take the torch away!
But it wasn't necessary; the creature stuck a long stick into a recess in the flat stone and moved back, but just a bit.
Hermione had no choice. She cast Statis Patronum, reached for the torch and at the same time with a loud clatter placed her wand beside the book.
As on a signal, the creatures moved to the exit and there was only one left, which slowly moved to the far wall and disappeared into the narrow passage. Hermione hesitantly followed it, walked through it, took the long, narrow stairs and plunged into a real horror.
Sweet smell of rot, decay and human excrement grew stronger with each step and Hermione found it harder and harder to control the nausea that overwhelmed her. Besides, she had the feeling that the already low temperature was decreasing with every step and she was trembling now not only from horror but also from the cold. As they went downstairs and walked down the narrow corridor separating the barred cells, she noticed that in some of them something was moving and made her skin prickle with horror.
These were people.
Some, seeing the light, crawled to the bars, clung to them and turned their heads towards her, blinking their eyes rapidly. One of them, in rotten, tattered clothes, began to grunt at her and Hermione sped up quite irrationally, though she had nowhere to run.
A few steps later the dementor stopped in front of a cell with a mark ﬗ carved into the rock.
Severus Snape.
He opened it with a long scrape, stepped back letting Hermione come in and slammed iron bars behind her.
The glow of torch illuminated a man curled up on the ground. He jerked, very slowly rose to all fours, just as slowly raised his head towards her and Hermione's scream died on her lips.
His terrifyingly pale face looked like a mask. This whiteness contrasted his stubble and black tufts of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks. Hermione could see the remnants of blood around his eye and against his quivering, blue lips.
He squeezed his eyes tight for a moment, but finally managed to open them and looked at the terrified girl next to the bars.
Oh my God, oh my God ... oh my God ...
Hermione swallowed hard and tried to speak, but only a faint squeal escaped her lips, so she cleared her throat and tried again:
" ... fessor ..."
Severus Snape rubbed his eyes with a trembling hand and looked at her but didn't answer.
"Sssir..."
She stepped towards him, but the sharp smell of sweat, urine and dirt held her back.
All afternoon she imagined they will talk about what happened, that she will tell him what Harry had found out and he will tell how and who caught him and who the murderer was. And that they will come up with a plan together to get him out of here. That she will comfort him and ensure that everything will be fine.
But now she was staring at him in horror and her mind was blank. All she could think of was taking short gulps of stinking air, as short as possible, for she was terrified that if she inhaled it, her lungs would rot and she would have to stay here forever.
And no one will be able to do anything else for both of them.
"Granger?" Snape said in a low, hoarse voice.
Hermione jerked her head.
"Y-yes."
There was a painfully long silence, as if each of them had to find the energy to say each word. Energy that neither of them had anymore.
"What are you ... doing… here?"
What am I doing here?
Hermione found the answer with biggest difficulty.
"I-I-fo-found-yy-you" she stammered.
Severus Snape got to his knees towards the torch, which radiated warm.
"Do. Not talk" he said in the same hoarse voice. "T nobody."
Oh my God...
„Ssir... Who was ...?" She didn't finish, she started shaking so badly that she was no longer able to articulate the words.
"Bbry-ant. And. White" he choked out.
It obviously exhausted him, because he had collapsed and lay on the ground and Hermione suddenly remembered the scene from the Shriecking Shack. When Snape struggled for the extra seconds to live and to pass the memory on to Harry and then he could go away. Look in the green eyes one last time and gone on.
Feeling hysteria rising inside her she grabbed her throat.
„Bry-ant. And White" she repeated after him so that he would know she understood.
„Yes. Leave me."
She hesitated a moment longer, but suddenly, somewhere nearby she heard a heartbreaking scream. And then another one that lasted and lasted ... Oh God, his throat must hurt…
"Go-away" considering his hoarse voice speaking had to hurt him as well.
Something exploded inside her.
She did not know how she managed to get out of the cell, bypass the dementor waiting for her, how and when she ran the narrow corridor and ran up the steep stairs and how miraculously she remembered to grab her wand and run outside. The only thought that was pounding in her head was that Harry had forbidden her to turn right.
She slipped on something slushy, run outside and threw herself to the left. And clutching the torch in her hand and thinking about Harry she spun on her heel and deported.
Darkness fell again for Severus. After a brief warmth everything felt even colder than before. Shacked by waves of chills he curled up on the damp ground.
Granger knew. That was all that mattered.
Now he could gone on.
Hermione arrived on the familiar steps, fell on the door and, throwing the torch behind her, began pounding on it with both fists. At the same time a scream swelled in her chest, but as long as she was choking, she couldn't get it out. She couldn't, she wasn't able!
The door opened too slowly for her, so she pushed it open and leap forward blindly down the long corridor. She stumbled, fell, someone's hands gripped her, but she broke free and yanked forward. Get away from this horror, just get away!
„Hermione !"
"Hermione, stop !"
Hermione burst into the kitchen and suddenly a bright, warm light enveloped her. Security. She dropped to her knees, swallowed the unbearable lump in her throat with difficulty and finally she was free. She could scream, she could howl, she could finally get rid of that something raging in her chest!
Harry caught her first, embraced her with all his strength and although she was tossing frantically from side to side, he managed to hold on to her. A second later Ginny knelt on her other side and, ignoring her scream, hugged her tightly.
„Hermione ... calm down ..."
Harry shook his head and tightened his arms around her.
"It will not help!" He called to Ginny.
"So what should I do?!"
"Hold her!"
Hermione gasped, the scream broke for a moment, then she groaned terribly ... and burst into tears. Finally. She slumped limp on Ginny and began to sob, snuggling against her, grabbing her hair and clothes with trembling hands and pulling toward her.
Harry waited a moment longer and stepped away slowly.
"Hug her" advised Ginny and stood up with a sigh.
"Where are you going?! protested Ginny.
"Make hot chocolate."
Hermione was crying a little quieter, but harder and harder. Ginny began to stroke her back soothingly and found her friend's sweater soaked.
"Get Kreacher," she said to Harry, who found a large bar of chocolate and began to break it into small pieces. "And bring her my sweater from mom. The one she gave me last Christmas."
"If Kreacher is still alive," replied Harry grimly, because it was the house elf who had the misfortune to open the door for Hermione, with which she had pinned him to the wall a second later.
When the sobs turned to sobbing and then soft crying, Harry returned with a thick brown sweater and Kreacher, rubbing his forehead, lumbered with a mug of hot chocolate.
"Hermione ..." said Ginny in a soft, reassuring voice. „Well, it's okay ..."
It's not okay at all ... The girl shook her head and choked with tears.
"Come on, sit down and have a warm drink."
Ginny managed to pull her friend away a little, Hermione lifted her head with difficulty and opened her puffy eyes.
"Miss Mione has chocolate" proposed Kreacher helpfully. "Miss, you is feel better immediately!"
There was no way Hermione could hold the cup alone, so Harry put it to her mouth and tilted it. Hermione took a sip, though it dribbled a little down her chin, swallowed and immediately vomited right on Ginny who kneeled in front of her.
"Oh, shit ..." the redhead scowled.
"... sorry ..."
"It's okay" assured her Harry and his girlfriend gave him a warning look.
Half an hour later both girls were fresh and changed, the kitchen was cleaned and everyone was sitting on the benches around the table. In fact Hermione half-lay, head on her hand, holding a cup of chocolate in the other and just tilting her head towards it each time she took a small sip.
Harry looked at her closely and he had to admit that there was even no trace of the brave, fearless Hermione he remembered from last years. At that moment he saw rather a little girl huddled against the wall at the sight of the giant mountain troll.
"It really would be better if I went there."
The girl shook her head.
"No" she replied and her throat felt a little sore from the screaming. It immediately reminded her of Azkaban and she clenched her fists unconsciously.
Severus Snape has always seemed indestructible to her. Rough, harsh, even violent and determined. The scrap of man she found, crouching on the bare ground in Azkaban looked nothing like him. God, let him come back ...!
The hot chocolate did its job and slowly her body relaxed so much that she did not even have the strength to sit, but at this mere memory she groaned.
Ginny hugged Hermione and kissed her head.
"Let's not talk about this."
"We have to."
She took another two sips of the sweet drink and looked at Harry.
„He said ... it was Bryant and White."
Harry suppressed an impatient snort. If Snape was innocent, it was obvious. At least they.
If he was guilty, it was obvious he was accusing them. But given Hermione's condition, he didn't dare to say so.
"I and Rich were going to take this case" he said. "And it was Roger ... White who asked us to switch."
"Did you know?" wondered Hermione weakly. "Did you have any ... feeling?"
The boy shrugged.
„No. Gawain told me I was to get a case with Snape and everyone knew it was not convenient for me. And then Roger said maybe they could take it and we could take from them ... another thing."
Hermione finished her chocolate and pushed the cup away.
"Harry, we have to get him out of there" she said.
"Hermione..."
„As soon as possible!" She added emphatically. "We need to hurry up. He won't survive it!"
She started to sound hysterical again and Ginny put her arms around her.
"We'll get him out" she assured her.
Harry looked at his girlfriend who gave him a "Don't-even-dare!" look and nodded.
„Well. But before I do anything, I have to be sure ... who exactly is behind it."
"Bryant and White."
"But maybe there's someone else. And if we catch these two and free Snape, he'll know immediately and we're all dead."
"Why don't you just go to Gawain, tell him everything and start working together?" asked Ginny. "It would be so much faster and you could get Professor Snape out tomorrow."
Hermione looked at her with sudden gratitude, but Harry looked glum and Ginny immediately sensed that something was wrong.
"...Yes?"
"The day Griselda died, she had a meeting with Gawain in the morning."
There was a silence for a long moment, broken by Ginny.
„Then we have one more option. We have to find a trick to get him out on our own."
The boy nodded and got up from the table. He started to be sick of was fed up with the "what-ifs".
"Hermione, stay here overnight, you shouldn't be alone in this state."
"Are you going to the Ministry?" guessed Ginny.
"Exactly. Nobody's there at this time, so I'll keep digging until I know what's going on."
"You do not need to rush. Hermione is going to take good care of me now" she assured him, smiling.
Hermione suddenly felt that she loved Ginny.
"Harry ..." she said, grasping the Redhead's hand gratefully. "By the way, prepare another pass for me. For tomorrow."