Once again, My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.
Chapter 72: The Heist
Black Lake, Scotland, April 28th, 2006
"Ah, welcome back! How did the Misses Lovegood take the news?" Dumbledore asked as soon as Ron and Hermione stepped into the portal room, where the old man was standing by a crate with all four twins and Ginny. No, with Ginny's counterpart - Ginny wouldn't be caught dead in public wearing old jeans and an older sweater. Unless she was posing for a gardening magazine cover, which had happened once. Mum still had a copy - she'd framed it and hung it in the garden shed.
"As expected. Though we managed to convince Luna not to rush the Dream Eater to St Mungo's to deal with the nightmares caused by our mistake," Hermione told him. "Which, incidentally, could be a novel form of treatment for some curses, I suppose."
"Wouldn't that lead to people hunting Dream Eaters to capture them for clinics?" Ron asked.
"Judging by the nature of humanity in general, I would assume so," Dumbledore replied. "One more argument against Miss Lovegood's suggested course of action, I believe."
"Yes." Hermione was pursing her lips - probably angry she hadn't thought of that when they had been talking to the Lunas.
Ron smiled at her until she smiled back, albeit weakly. She really needed to loosen up a little. Not that their current troubles made that easy - or likely.
"Harry told me that the Ministry's going crazy," wizarding Ginny spoke up. "He didn't have to make up a reason to send the ferry to Azkaban tonight - the Minister insisted on doubling the guards there. Here's the schedule." She handed a sheet of parchment to Hermione.
Ron peered over her shoulder. Nine o'clock in the evening. That sounded almost too convenient. "Could this be a trap?"
"Possibly, yes," Dumbledore replied. "Likely? I don't think so, although I have to admit I cannot offer any degree of certainty. But we will have ample time to search for a trap before the ferry leaves, something Mr Croaker would be aware of. More importantly, the chances of you escaping from the cove are much higher than you managing the same in Azkaban, for obvious reasons, so if he intends to catch you or even to merely identify you to gain leverage, his odds of success are much higher if he waits until you've actually broken into the prison. Nevertheless, as always, it behoves us to be vigilant and cautious."
"Of course," Hermione said. "What about your preparations?"
"The crate's full of toys!" Fred replied - he was already wearing his counterpart's clothes, Ron noticed. "More LEGO than I have ever seen in one place, toy cars and planes and stuffed animals of all kinds!"
It sounded as if Ron's brothers had had to be restrained to keep them from nicking half the toys for themselves.
"Gellert wanted to include some toy tanks, but I put my foot down," Dumbledore added.
"Good." Hermione nodded firmly. "You don't want the kids to play World War in the living room."
Ron frowned. "Why not? We did that." His box full of carefully painted 8th Army toy soldiers was still in the attic at home, somewhere.
"You didn't have easy ways to make things explode, though, did you?" she shot back.
Ron raised his eyebrows at her, then looked at his brothers.
"Oh." Hermione pressed her lips together.
"Oi! We never set the garden on fire while playing war," Fred protested. "All our explosions were carefully contained. Or not big enough."
"It was the space shuttle that we built which caused that," George added. "We picked the wrong fuel for our model. It was more like a flamethrower."
"LEGOs, cars and stuffed animals sound safe," Ron said. Kids couldn't enchant them until they got their wands, could they? And all the kids in the extended wizarding Weasley families were far too young for that.
"And, as planned, we'll tell the kids that they can't have the toys until the next day. That should motivate them to focus on breaking into the attic and grabbing the toys over the course of the evening," Dumbledore added.
"Yes," wizarding Ginny agreed. With a nod to the twins, she added: "They already made bets on how long it would take the kids to get the toys."
Ron chuckled at that, but, after a glance at Hermione's deep frown, refrained from making a bet himself. The twins would probably cheat, anyway.
"Then I think it's time to get the hair samples we need from the people present. Mr and Mrs Weasley should arrive soon for the mission briefing," Dumbledore said.
"...and then the team boards the ferry and uses it to exfiltrate," Dumbledore said.
"The ferry will be guarded," Hermione pointed out.
"Nothing a surprise attack can't handle," wizarding Bill replied.
"Yes. Those Aurors and Hit-Wizards are generally not the best," Fleur added. "We saw that in Hogsmeade."
"But they didn't expect an attack there," Hermione retorted. "Now that they fear a second Voldemort, they'll be on their guard."
"No doubt about it," Dumbledore said. "But they will have been on the ferry or the pier for hours - cold, tired and with the threat of the Dementors looming over them. They won't be fresh and alert. Not in the middle of the night." He shook his head.
"They could use magic to keep alert." Hermione wasn't letting this go easily, but Ron couldn't tell whether she was convinced of the risks or just trying to find a fault in a plan she hadn't made.
"That usually doesn't work out well, at least not for Curse-Breakers," wizarding Bill replied. "Pepper-Up Potions keep you awake, but you crash hard after a few hours. And if you take more, you start to feel the effects. Lost a few co-workers who thought they could work through the night and beat the competition to a grave chamber."
"That doesn't mean that Aurors or Hit-Wizards wouldn't use the potion, though," Ron pointed out, "if they can sleep the next day." He spread his hands.
"And what if they get attacked the next day?" wizarding Bill countered. "I can't see Harry and Ron allowing it."
"And we know everyone always follows the rules," Hermione commented with obvious sarcasm.
Fleur giggled, though wizarding Bill shook his head. "They might - but would they want to be dead to the world while resting on Azkaban? When everyone is afraid of a nightmare attack?"
That was a good point. Ron nodded in acknowledgement.
"Precisely. And the kind of fool who would nevertheless risk using such a potion doesn't strike me as the kind of wizard or witch who would pose a threat - or even a challenge - to you," Dumbledore said.
"We can't underestimate them, though," Hermione countered. "But I agree, it doesn't seem likely that we'll face significant opposition at the ferry - provided that we manage to avoid being detected until then. If the alarm is raised, though, we'll have problems."
"In that case, we'll go underwater and work our way through the wards the hard way," wizarding Bill said.
"We're talking about the wards of Azkaban," Hermione reminded him. "Some of the oldest protections in Wizarding Britain."
"Yes. Wards pretty much every Curse-Breaker worth their salt has checked out at least once." Wizarding Bill's grin was the same grin Ron's brother wore when he talked about high-risk trading. "And the wards on the island are the ones that keep people away, not the ones that keep people inside. Those wards are on the prison itself. We can handle the wards on the island, trust me."
"And how long would that take you?" Ron asked.
"Oh… I'd say… half a day, tops?" the wizard shrugged.
Ron snorted. That sounded a little optimistic. "So long, underwater?" They could duplicate the oxygen bottles, but… He shook his head. "That'd be a nasty trip."
"But we'd manage," wizarding Bill told him. "And that's only if they sound the alert - which is a big if. But if you think it's too dangerous, a distraction on the mainland would draw people away, I think."
"But then they would use the ferry, wouldn't they?" Ron asked.
"Yes, but I'd think they'd only use it to leave the island, then use Apparition to reach the Ministry. Otherwise, they'd be far too slow," Hermione pointed out.
"A worthy addition to the plan, then - I think it should be easy for an associate of mine to create a little havoc in Wizarding Britain."
Ron nodded. Rosengarten would probably enjoy that, given the Healer's past.
"However, your associate does need to be very careful," Hermione said. "As we know, the Ministry is on high alert. They will deploy in large numbers at the first sign of trouble."
"Which is exactly what we want," Dumbledore said, smiling. "So… are there any other points to cover?"
Ron shook his head. That was about it. He knew his role - steer the underwater sledge and take care of the diving gear, then stand guard underwater, where the Dementors couldn't sneak up on him. Monsters he couldn't even see - wouldn't even notice while they killed him, if they were to catch him.
He suppressed a shudder. He'd sleep better once those creatures were extinct.
The Burrow, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, Britain, Wizarding World, April 28th, 2006
"Oh, toys! Gifts! Gimme!"
"Toys!"
"Yes!"
"Children! Behave!"
Ron smiled at the sight. When it came down to it, wizarding kids behaved just like muggle kids when faced with a chest full of new toys. Although they had been a little sceptical at first - until Ron had opened the chest and let them catch a glimpse of its contents.
And then he'd had to make a hasty retreat before he got trampled (and probably mugged) by a bunch of shrieking munchkins. Victoire, Beatrice, Jean and James were faster than he had expected.
"It's getting late, and you need your sleep," Mrs Weasley went on. "You can play with the new toys tomorrow."
"Mais! The toys are here now!" Victoire protested.
"No! You can't do that!" James apparently was a little dramatic as he gasped loudly.
"That's unfair! Cruel and unfair!" As was Jean - well, they were the kids of Ginny's counterpart. "It's torture!" Definitely the children of some universe's Ginny.
"What about a small toy now?" Beatrice smiled winningly at her grandmother. "Each?"
"No. You need your sleep, and if I give you a new toy now, you'll be playing all night!" Mrs Weasley replied.
It was obvious that the kids didn't think that that would be a bad thing - their mulish, sullen expressions betrayed them. Then they started to cry.
But Mrs Weasley wouldn't be moved. Well, after raising wizarding versions of the twins, she would be wise to all such ploys - Mum certainly wasn't easily fooled by anyone, much less little kids. That didn't count the grandkids' advantage, though - unlike in this world, the Weasleys still hadn't provided Mum with grandkids to spoil.
Beatrice tried a new tack. "But the toys aren't yours - they're Uncle Ron's!"
"Yes!" James agreed. "And he can decide!"
"Please, Uncle Ron!"
"Please!"
"S'il-vous plaît!"
Staring at their hopeful, shining faces, Ron felt terrible having to disappoint them. Even reminding himself that this was the plan didn't help. "Sorry," he said. "It's Gran's house, and her rules apply."
"We could leave!" Beatrice told him at once.
"Outside is free!" James added.
"No, you're staying here," Mrs Weasley bellowed. "Have you forgotten about the monsters? Do you want to end up in St Mungo's?"
The kids winced and looked down. Ron winced as well - this was his fault. Partially, at least.
"The toys will be stored in the attic, guarded by our ghoul! And if you complain again, it's no dessert for you!" Mrs Weasley laid down the law.
All four kids shut up at once.
"We'll be good!" Beatrice said. She was lying, of course. But planning their heist - and waiting for wizarding Ron and Lavender's kids to join them - should keep them busy until Ron and the others could make the switch.
Just as planned.
Cove near Filey, Yorkshire, Britain, Wizarding World, April 28th, 2006
The Ministry had improved the security of the boathouse, Ron saw at once when he switched his night vision gear on. Two Hit-Wizards outside, doing rounds. Well, they were walking around, at least - they didn't look like the sharpest guards in the country, to say the least. But according to their information, two more would be waiting inside the boathouse. Together with the wards on the place, that was decent protection. All the guards really had to do was to alert the Ministry and then hunker down inside until relief arrived.
Too bad for them that Ron's friends had no intention of actually attacking them. "Two outside. No one else I could see," he reported. "No one near the water." At least not outside the boathouse.
"No one hiding nearby," wizarding Bill said.
No one he had spotted, at least. But with his spell, he wouldn't have missed invisible wizards.
"Good. Let's suit up and get into the water. We've got half an hour left before the ferry is scheduled to depart," Hermione announced.
This was the part of the plan Ron had some misgivings about: Wizarding Bill and Fleur had no training in scuba diving at all. And he wasn't exactly a diving instructor. Having Bubble-Head Charms as a last resort was reassuring, but it remained a risk. At least Fleur was sufficiently apprehensive - her husband was far too confident, in Ron's opinion.
But they wouldn't have to do anything other than let the sledge, and later the ferry, drag them behind - which was easy enough, as Ron knew from experience. As long as the gear worked.
Hermione was already stripping off her clothes, so Ron helped her don the wetsuit. Normally, a trip of this length would require a drysuit to avoid dying from hypothermia, but with magic, it wasn't needed. Ron would still have preferred a drysuit - but he wasn't really trained in them, either.
Fifteen minutes later, everyone was suited up, and their respirators had been checked. Time to get the sledge into the water and find a good spot to intercept the ferry. Which, given that they would be underwater, shouldn't be much of a challenge.
No, he reminded himself, no underestimating the dangers of a dive. That was a good way to end up dead in the water. Even if this one was rather easy.
"Alright," he said. "Let's get in the water." He looked at Hermione, but she was already levitating the sledge. She floated it over the rocky beach and lowered it into the sea.
Ron smiled back at her, suppressing the brief envy he felt. Magic. It made things so easy. "Alright," he repeated before entering the water himself. "Wait while I check the sledge."
He didn't find anything wrong with it - not that he would've expected the thing to have developed problems in the few hours since he had last checked it, but you never assumed, you always checked. Moody had driven that lesson home with vigour - the old man hadn't been above sabotaging their equipment.
But the sledge was running fine. "Come on," he told the others. "Let's get you hooked up."
Two minutes later, they were all underwater, headed to the mouth of the cove. His diving watch - mechanical, of course, or it wouldn't work inside the magical protections - showed that they had five minutes left. That was cutting it a little close, even though the wizards would probably take a little more time than scheduled to leave the boathouse.
But they reached the spot in time, and the less time they spent in the water, the better, Ron thought.
As he had thought, the wizards were late - the scheduled departure time came and no ferry arrived. Minutes passed, and still no ferry. He could see the others, but he couldn't talk to them. He couldn't do anything but wait patiently. Or not so patiently. What was taking them so long?
Had there been a change in plans? Should he resurface? But he'd have to leave the cove to check the radio, and that would…
There! He could see the shape of the ferry - the hull - coming towards them. He tapped Hermione's thigh to warn her, then turned and signalled the others before starting up the sledge - he had to time this perfectly. Intercepting the ferry was a little tricky - he had to come up from directly below it, so the passengers couldn't spot them.
Matching speed was easy, but the ferry wasn't going straight - it was swerving slightly. Was the pilot drunk, or what? Ron bit down harder on the respirator's mouthpiece and wrestled with the sledge's controls as he adjusted their course once more. Almost… He silently swore. He had to risk it, or they'd lose the ferry as soon as it reached the open sea and sped up.
Keeping his eyes on the hull above him, trying to anticipate its movement. If the ferry changed course again, at just this moment…
They reached the hull, and he almost sighed with relief as the suction cups moved upwards, sticking the sledge to the hull. Another moment of uncertainty - would the cups stick? Or would the enchantments on the hull repel them? But he felt the tug on the sledge as the ferry started to pick up speed, and they were dragged with it.
They had done it. He had done it.
Now all they had to do was to wait until they arrived at Azkaban. Which would take them quite a while. And they would spend the time in darkness, hiding below the ferry, unable to talk to each other or do much of anything other than think.
Azkaban, North Sea, Wizarding World, April 28th, 2006
Ron only realised that they had arrived when he saw the light appear ahead of them. That was the lantern at the end of the pier - and it was bright enough to even reach into the water. Time to detach the sledge, then.
He twisted a little, tapping Hermione on the thigh, then the others on their heads, before pushing the button the wizarding twins had glued - stuck - to the sledge. A moment later, the sledge was free and started to sink to the bottom - just as planned; they couldn't risk being spotted near the surface of the water.
Ron kept an eye on his watch as he guided the sledge towards the seabed. The deeper the better, but the longer they stayed at this depth, the more they would have to wait while resurfacing. The bends affected wizards as well as muggles, after all.
So he quickly steered the sledge down, then to the side and back to the surface once they were sufficiently far from the pier. A last check of the diving watch confirmed it: There was no need for a depressurisation break. Ron still took a small one, just to be safe.
Then he surfaced, sticking his head above the water. The night vision gear wouldn't work, so he didn't even unpack it, but it was bright enough that he could make out the island's rocky coastline.
That was Azkaban, alright.
Hermione surfaced next to him, her wild hair hidden under a diving cowl, followed by wizarding Bill and Fleur.
"We need to get closer to the shore," Hermione said. "And we need a landmark so we can find you easily."
Ron pointed at a jagged spire protruding from the cliff ahead - like a giant fishing hook. "There!"
Hermione studied it for a moment, then nodded. "Distinctive enough. Let's go!"
Ron nodded and dived down again. Indeed, he thought as he steered the sledge towards the spire, there's no need to stay here a moment longer than needed.
They reached the spire, and after a brief struggle with an unexpected current, Ron managed to park the sledge in a nook just below the surface - close enough that he could sit on it and keep his head above the water.
Hermione, wizarding Bill and Fleur were already eyeing the cliff ahead. "Brooms," Hermione ordered.
A moment later, they were pulling out and unshrinking their brooms.
"Stay below the cliff," wizarding Bill told the two witches, "until we can check for patrols."
The two women agreed and faded from view as they cast Disillusionment Charms.
With the wind battering the sea and spire, Ron didn't notice when the others left.
Sirius had been correct, Ron thought some time later. A soldier's life was mostly waiting. He wasn't exactly a soldier, but the principle applied to him as well. He had spent much more time waiting - for the ferry, for their arrival and now for the others to return - than actually doing anything.
And yet, he had done what he could. As a muggle, he was useless when facing the Dementors - if he had accompanied them, he would've been a liability; they would have to protect him from those monsters.
He knew it, yet he still wanted to be with them. He felt like a coward, hiding in the water - where the Dementors couldn't reach him - while Hermione and her friends risked their lives on the island. He wanted to be more than a driver.
He snorted at his own hypocrisy - what had he told Ginny when she had complained about her own role? He was the only one who could handle the sledge competently, after all. But, if they didn't have the sledge, there was a magical alternative. Perhaps a little less safe, or more inconvenient, but by no means impractical.
He sighed. He wasn't even near the Dementors, and he was already feeling depressed. Well, at least they made good scapegoats.
And yet… he checked his watch. The others were taking their time. Had they ran into trouble? The coin in his pocket hadn't vibrated, so they should be fine… or they had been taken out or killed without Hermione being able to activate her own coin to warn him.
He looked at the cliff nearby. He could climb up - it would be difficult, but he could do it. The rocks offered enough foot- and handholds, and he had the climbing gear he'd need. But he would be helpless against the Dementors.
No. They were fine. They had to be. He just had to be patient. Stick to the plan.
Then he felt the coin vibrate. Once. Twice. Three times.
The signal - the others had managed to capture a Dementor and were on their way to the pier, to hijack the boat.
He pulled on his mask and respirator and dived. It would take a while to reach the pier with the sledge. Not too long, though - no need to rush things.
Once more, he had to struggle with the currents around the spire, and he had to resurface twice to get his bearings before he spotted the lantern on the pier. But where were the others? That was a HIt-Wizard standing beneath the lantern.
Damn. If the wizard spotted Ron… As worked up as the Aurors and Hit-Wizards were after Hogsmeade, the wizard would probably try to kill Ron right away. Or, worse, alert the rest of the island.
As a matter of fact, the wizard looked quite alert already - his wand was out, and he kept turning as he looked around. That wasn't how a bored guard behaved. Had the others triggered an alert? But Hermione wouldn't betray him by trying to lure him into an ambush. Even if she were under a spell, she'd be smarter about it.
But he couldn't just wait in the water. If something had happened to the others…
A red spell hit the Hit-Wizard, and the man collapsed, out cold. Another flash, at the same time, struck something at the base of the stairs leading up the cliff from the pier - both guards were out, then. That must be the work of Hermione and the others.
Ron gunned the engine of the sledge and rode it towards the pier even before he saw three figures descend from the air and land there: Hermione, wizarding Bill and Fleur. They were wearing full face masks. Ron had to trust his diving mask to conceal his identity. He waved at them as he reached the pier, next to the ferry. Where was the Dementor? Had they failed?
Hermione turned to the two others. "We'll clean up here, fetch the Dementor!"
Wizarding Bill and Fleur nodded and mounted their brooms again, flying off, as Ron climbed up on to the pier. "What happened?" he asked.
"We got it," Hermione replied - terse. Terser than he would have expected. It must have been harder than she had expected.
"Good." What else could he say?
She levitated the two stunned Hit-Wizards to the side of the pier.
"Any trouble with patrols?" he asked as he rolled them on to their sides - he didn't know if it was needed with stunned wizards, but it wouldn't hurt them.
"None. There were no patrols," she replied. "As far as I can tell, these two are the only guards outside the prison."
"Except for the Dementors," he told her.
"Yes. Except for them." She shivered, and he had to restrain himself from hugging her.
"How many were there?" He looked around. He didn't see any Dementors, but he couldn't see them anyway.
"Too many. The guards have no idea how many Dementors are on the island - we must have seen more outside than the Ministry claims exist in total!"
Ron shuddered at the thought. "That must have been terrible."
"We managed."
Barely, probably. He frowned - what was keeping the others? They wouldn't have left the Dementor too far back, would they?
Hermione climbed into the ferry, waving her wand, then pointing it at the tiller. "It looks like we'll have to use the sledge to pull the ferry," she said.
Ron nodded. That had been the plan anyway. He looked around again - where were the others? He wanted to leave this cursed island immediately - he could almost feel the cold seeping into his bones, as if… He blinked. That wasn't his imagination - he was feeling cold. Unnaturally cold.
"Dementors!" he snapped.
Hermione looked up and gasped. "Oh, no! Ron, come here! Run!"
He didn't hesitate - he sprinted towards her. Away from whatever invisible soul-eating monsters were currently trying to kill him.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A silvery otter shot past him, and the cold receded a little. The Dementors must have been even closer than he had feared, he realised. Far too close. Shivering, he jumped into the ferry, almost falling down in the moving boat, and turned. "They can't float over water, right?"
Hermione nodded, lips pressed together as her spell danced over the pier. "Not over longer stretches of open water. But I wouldn't trust the distance here."
Great. "How many are there?"
"Two dozen," she replied, breathing heavily. Was maintaining the spell tiring her out? Or was it just the stress?
"I guess they didn't like you snatching one of them," he half-joked - but he knew they were in a desperate situation. So many Dementors, trying to get to them...
"I guess not," she replied, flicking her wand.
In response, the otter flew towards them - and then swerved and started circling the aft of the ferry - no, herding something away from the unconscious guards, Ron realised. He sighed with relief - they could do this. They could hold the Dementors at bay. The monsters wouldn't… Oh! "How close were they?"
"Too close."
That explained his mood. He drew his gun.
"That won't kill them."
"I know." But it made him feel better. And that would help resist the Dementors. "Where are the others?"
"I don't know. They should've been back already!" Hermione snapped. The Dementors must be getting to her as well.
And that meant… Damn. Ron climbed back on to the pier.
"What are you doing?"
What was he doing? He was useless. A mere muggle. Weak. A liability. He couldn't even see the monsters…
Ron clenched his teeth and shook his head. No, he was better than that. He wasn't useless. He had no magic, but he had his wits.
And explosives.
"Get the Patronus to clear the pier ahead of me!" he yelled.
"What?"
But the otter flew over to Ron and then started circling back and forth in front of him.
Ron took a deep breath. He could do this. He knew what to do.
He moved forward behind the Patronus until he was halfway to the island. Then he knelt down and pulled out the plastic explosives from his pockets. And started to place them on the underside of the pier.
"That's crazy!"
"Not if it works," he yelled back.
"What about the detonators?"
In response, he lit the fuse and started to run back to the ferry.
"How close did you cut it?" Hermione all but screamed, ducking already.
"We've got a minute or so left," he replied. He simply hadn't wanted to stay any longer than strictly necessary so close to the Dementors. But telling her that would make him appear like a coward, so he didn't.
"How much did you use?"
"Enough to wreck the pier," he replied. "Unless there are spells on it that protect it." Which, he realised, was not entirely unlikely.
"There aren't - the Ministry only cast those on the prison itself," Hermione replied.
"Really?"
Whatever she had been about to tell him was drowned out by half the pier vanishing in an explosion. Fragments of wood and stone flew every which way, smaller ones pelting the ferry - Ron ducked behind the railing before he realised that Hermione had cast a Shield Charm in front of them.
He rose and stared at the rapidly vanishing dust and smoke cloud. Had it been enough? Or had he messed up?
Half the pier was missing - there were about a yard and a half left at the bottom of the stairs, leaving a gap about six yards wide. Almost exactly like planned. "Where are the Dementors?" he asked.
"Gathered at the bottom of the stairs," Hermione replied. She laughed, once, then shook her head. "I should've thought of that."
"You're not fond enough of wanton destruction," he told her.
She snorted at that, then grew serious. "But where are B… the others?"
He had no idea, but before he could tell her that, a fireball exploded on the top of the cliff ahead of them. The explosion's light disappeared before he could make out any details. He still aimed his gun at the top the cliff, anyway.
Until he heard the shrieking. Inhuman, high-pitched shrieking that made him freeze up and shudder for a moment. "What the…?"
More fireballs burst on the cliff's top.
"That's Fleur! She must have transformed!" Hermione snapped next to him. "Down here!" she yelled, louder.
But the Veela either didn't hear her or wasn't listening, as even more fireballs rained down on the island above.
"I'm going to fetch her!" Hermione said, pulling out her broom and unshrinking it. "Stay here!"
Well, it wasn't as if he could go anywhere without a wizard, could he? You needed a wand to operate the vessel, and trying to pass through the wardline by himself…
But she was already off, rising in the air, and he quickly lost sight of her. Great. At least he was safe on the remains of the peer. No Dementor would be able to approach.
He shuddered. If they could, he'd be swarmed before he realised it. He rubbed his arms for a moment. Just the thought of it made him feel cold. No… this was more. This was a Dementor. Somewhere close. But where?
Ron waved his gun around without spotting anything. He was helpless here. Easy prey for a monster he couldn't even see or hear. Damn. Damn. He clenched his teeth, shaking his head, as he shivered, blindly flailing his arms around in case a Dementor was already on top of him. This couldn't…
No! He was better than that. How could a Dementor have reached him? They couldn't float over water, and they avoided it - as he had just confirmed earlier, when he had blown the pier in two.
But… what if they couldn't avoid the water? What if they were thrown into it? By, say, an explosion? What if one of the monsters was floating in the sea nearby?
Shuddering, he forced himself to climb back on to the pier. He needed to find it - but the only way to do so was to walk around and discover where he felt worst. He grabbed a Mars bar - chocolate would help, or so he'd been told - but then put it back. He needed to feel the effects of the Dementor to find it.
He shook his head at the thought, suppressing a sob. This was crazy. And it would hurt. But it was the only thing he could do.
So he started walking around the edge of the pier, shivering and shuddering, remembering all his mistakes and faults. How stupid he had been. How stupid he was. How…
He clenched his teeth. Focus! He needed to focus! Where was the worst spot?
He almost vomited on the pier, but he managed to walk the edge - twice. And he found the worst spot: right by the pillar on which the lantern was mounted. He lay prone on the pier, then couldn't help it any more and vomited into the water.
Somewhere down there would be the Dementor.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
Or… He couldn't see them. Or hear them. But they had a physical body. He could, in theory, touch them. Hit them. Hurt them.
Shivering, he pushed back, crawling towards the centre of the pier before getting up on shaky legs. There were no more explosions occurring on top of the cliff. But he thought he saw coloured flashes up there - spells being cast. The others were fighting for their lives, and he couldn't do anything.
No, he couldn't worry about them. Not when he had a Dementor to deal with. Before the monster managed to climb up the pillar.
He looked around - didn't the ferry have an oar? What about poles with hooks to pull someone out of the sea? Oh. Spells. Wizards would use their wands, of course. And he didn't have a ten-foot pole with him.
He had grenades, but they wouldn't do much to a Dementor - that had been tested extensively hundreds of years ago.
He really needed a ten-foot pole. But the next best thing he had with him was an assault rifle and a bayonet. And not even a full-sized rifle, but a bullpup design. But it was better than nothing.
He pulled the rifle and bayonet out of his enchanted pocket and approached the lantern, waving the blade in front of him - just in case the Dementor had been a better climber than Ron had expected.
But his bayonet only met air until he reached the pillar. Which was a good thing, since he would've been useless and helpless, had the Dementor actually climbed up. Hell, Ron would've been dead already, without knowing it - just a soulless husk left…
He shook his head, cursing his own weakness. The damn monster's aura was already affecting him!
Kneeling at the edge of the pier, he fired several shots into the sea. Then he stabbed the air below, on both sides of the pillar. Which was stupid, but at least he wasn't…
His bayonet caught on something. Something he couldn't see. His bayonet was stuck in a Dementor!
He twisted it, then emptied the magazine into the thing until the Dementor slipped off the blade - presumably crashing into the water again.
Yes, something was disturbing the sea below. It was hard to see, with all the waves, but something was churning up the water there, flailing.
He grinned and fired his rifle at the spot, spacing out the shots. The rounds wouldn't do much - if anything at all - to the monster, but they made him feel better.
And that was huge when facing a Dementor.
If only he had a way to set the thing on fire without spreading white phosphorus all over the pier...
He was on his fourth magazine and third Mars bar when he saw the others returning. All three of them, on their brooms - and, dragged behind one of the brooms, an empty cage. No, not empty.
And it showed, he realised when Hermione set down on the pier - she looked like death warmed up. And wizarding Bill didn't look any better. Fleur looked the best, but that wasn't actually saying very much.
"We… we need to l-leave. N-now," Hermione stammered as the cage was set down in the ferry.
He grabbed her in a hug. She was shaking - and shivering, And so cold… What had happened to her and the others?
He was an idiot. The Dementors had happened. He was a useless muggle, as usual. Just a drain on the others…
He shook his head. "Let's go," he said. The sooner they could get away, the sooner they could store the Dementor somewhere safe - and away from anyone else.
But Hermione was still shivering. She was having another flashback, he realised with a sinking feeling. And so close to the Dementors...
She hurt. Her whole body hurt. It hurt more than anything else she had ever felt. Her whole body was on fire - or seemed to be. She was screaming, or trying to. But her voice had given out long ago. And she had a metallic taste in her mouth - from the lip she had bitten until it bled.
She thrashed around, limbs flailing, hitting the cold stone floor, splitting her skin with the impacts…
"Scream as much as you want, mudblood. No one cares."
She wanted to spit in the witch's face, but she couldn't lift her head. Not even when the pain disappeared. She stayed on the floor, panting and shivering, the lingering pain making her moan.
The other witch would recast the Torture Curse soon, anyway. Would torture her again until she was screaming again. Would taunt her, threaten to force her to betray her friends.
And it was all her own fault for getting captured.
Her friends would be endangering themselves trying to save her. All because she was a failure.
A stupid, arrogant failure of a witch.
She cried until the next curse hit her and made her scream again.
