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


Chapter 76: The Turning Point

The Rookery, Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, Britain, Wizarding World, May 3rd, 2006

"I'm sorry, but the Dream Eater is currently full - fully fed," Ron told the older witch standing in front of the Lovegood home.

"But…" She shook her head, half-sobbing. "Can't you make him eat my nightmares? Just mine? I've been waiting for so long, and… I can't take another night full of nightmares!"

He winced. She sounded desperate - and she looked haggard. And it was dusk already. But they couldn't risk having Snappy overeat again. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we can't force the creature to eat any more," he lied.

"But… The Healers won't give me any more Dreamless Sleep! Please…"

Ron clenched his teeth. This was partially his own fault. "I'm very sorry, ma'am, but please come again tomorrow, and we'll treat you."

"I can pay you! I know the Weasleys aren't rich."

Ah. He shook his head. "I'm the muggle Weasley."

"Oh." She blinked. "Where's Ron Weasley, then? I want to speak to him!"

"He's not involved in this treatment," Ron explained.

"So who is in charge here?"

"Mr Lovegood and Miss Lovegood are," Ron told her. "This is their house," he added - unnecessarily. Or so he hoped.

"Then I want to talk to them! Please!"

The 'please' sounded like an afterthought, but she was obviously desperate. Ron suppressed a sigh and said: "I'll tell them. Please wait here."

"I will!" She conjured a seat for her while he closed the door.

Sighing, he descended the stairs. "Mr Lovegood?" The wizard was going over some notes with Hermione. Ron couldn't see wizarding Luna or Wilkinson. Grover had left already, of course - after 'Voly' had introduced himself to the Healer.

"Call me Xenophilius, Ron!"

"Xenophilius, Ron," he repeated.

Mr Lovegood chuckled, though Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Very funny," she said in a flat voice.

"Oh, but it was," the wizard contradicted her.

Ron grinned and sketched a bow. "I'll be here all night."

"Really?"

"It's a saying stand-up comedians use when they're on stage for the evening," Hermione explained.

"Anyway," Ron said, nodding towards the stairs. "There's a 'Madam Macmillan' outside who insists on talking to you, Xenophilius. She wants to get treated."

"Oh."

"We can't feed the Dream Eater any more nightmares," Hermione snapped.

"Of course not. But we can't leave the poor woman outside, can we? We'd be poor hosts!" The wizard smiled. "I'll talk to her. I'm sure we can find a solution."

Ron wasn't so sure. Not at all. He glanced at Hermione, who looked as if she had her own doubts. "Alright," he said. "She's waiting."

As he and Hermione followed Mr Lovegood up the stairs, he asked: "Where's Luna?"

"Mr Wilkinson wanted to see the habitat for the Dream Eater. She's showing him around."

"Let's hope she doesn't feed him to Voly by mistake." Ron blinked. He must be more tired than he had expected. He hadn't meant to blurt that out.

Mr Lovegood chuckled. "Oh, she won't. She doesn't like him - but it's not serious."

Ron wondered if that meant that if it was serious, wizarding Luna might feed someone to her animals.

"He's not a Death Eater," Hermione said. And - perhaps - answered his silent question.

"Oh, not at all! He's a muggleborn." Xenophilius closed the food behind them, then walked towards the door. "They've just got a difference of opinion about how to best help all the magical creatures in need."

Before Ron could say anything in reply, the wizard opened the door. "Mrs Macmillan? I'm Xenophilius Lovegood."

"Madam Macmillan, please."

"Madam. Please come in."

The witch did so, although she hesitated for a few seconds at the sight of the tilted floor.

"Good evening," Hermione said. "I'm Hermione Granger."

The other witch blinked, then nodded at her. "I've heard of you!"

"I think everyone has - in my absence," Hermione replied with a wry smile. "I'm still trying to teach my portrait that I am quite unlike my reputation."

That actually made the other witch laugh. But her humour was short-lived as she launched into her plea.

Mr Lovegood rubbed his chin. "I can see your point. This is a terrible situation. However, we cannot feed Snappy - that's the Dream Eater - any more nightmares."

"But I can't take another night full of nightmares!"

"And you don't need to!" Mr Lovegood beamed at her. "I've got just the remedy for this situation." He raised his wand and flicked it. A moment later, something flew towards him. A six-pack, Ron realised before the wizard caught and handed it to the older witch.

She took a look at it. "'Monster Energy'?"

The wizard nodded. "It's a muggle Energy Drink. Very powerful - drink a can every two hours, and you'll stay awake until the morning when we can treat you." He smiled. "I discovered it myself during an expedition to the New World."

"Oh!"

"See? If you don't sleep you won't have any nightmares!" Mr Lovegood beamed at Macmillan.

Ron blinked, then glanced at Hermione, who looked as surprised as he felt. That was… well, it might just work.

But for the effects of so much caffeine, of course. "You probably shouldn't overdo it," he said. "Too much of the drink isn't good for your health."

"Oh, a few cans won't do anything," Mr Lovegood said. "I've drunk half a dozen of them in a row before, trying to shoot a picture of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. I almost got it too - but it used a hitherto unknown ability to make the picture all blurry and shaky."

"Ah." Ron managed not to wince.

"It's so sad - we could've had proof of their existence. Although it explains how they've managed to avoid being observed for so long," the wizard went on.

The witch, meanwhile, was fiddling with one of the cans. "How do you open this?"

"You don't need to drink one right now," Hermione told her. "In fact, you should wait until you feel very tired."

"I'm feeling very tired already!" Macmillan exclaimed. "I've barely slept in the last few days! Now how do you open this thing?"

Mr Lovedgood stepped in. "Oh, it's a clever muggle method. Do you see the ring on top? Just flip it up and keep pulling back! Yes, like that!"

It looked like another person would have a blurry and shaky morning.


Black Lake, Scotland, May 4th, 2006

"How is the Dementor reacting?" Ron asked, looking at the seemingly empty cage.

"It's trying to move out of the way of the laser," Hermione replied. "It definitely noticed it. But I can't detect any damage."

"Well, it's not exactly a powerful laser," Ron said.

"It's the most powerful laser that would fit the available space," Dumbledore cut in. "Although the results aren't promising - even if a stronger laser does have a noticeable effect, I doubt there's a practical way to use lasers in the field."

Ron nodded in agreement. Not that it mattered - he was sure the monster wouldn't be killed by laser guns, if those actually existed. It was just too powerful. Immune to so many attacks…

He shook his head and ate another chocolate bar. They were making progress - and it wasn't as if they could just waste time until the wizarding twins had their product ready. And, who knew, they might even find a way to kill the monsters in the meantime. Not that Ron really thought that they would.

"The water jet cutter's delivery was delayed - apparently, there was a mix-up with regards to our specifications, so they need to adjust the set-up or the machine won't fit in the hallway."

It figured that the most promising idea, cutting the monster with a high-pressure stream of water, was delayed. Nothing so far had worked. "So, what's next?" he asked.

"A break," Hermione replied. "Your temperature is falling again."

"Oh." Ron blinked, then checked his watch. Time flew when you were experimenting on Dementors.

He checked that both cage and door were locked and whole, then shuffled out of the hallway, munching the next chocolate bar.

Hermione was waiting for him at the door - had he taken so long to do the check? "My parents and my foster parents would be aghast at the amount of chocolate you're eating," she told him.

"I'm brushing my teeth three times per day," he replied. "And I'm flossing."

"They wouldn't worry about your teeth, but your weight and general health."

"Oh." He snorted. "I'm doing more exercise than ever." Running around the lake was a good way to clear his head after a day in close proximity to the Dementor. And running himself ragged felt good, too - something he could do and was good at.

"I know that, but they wouldn't," she said, smiling. "But, anyway, it's time for lunch. I was thinking we could have a picnic."

"On the shore?" That would annoy Smith - the man would have to organise a protection detail; MI5 still had some people on the premises.

That, of course, was another good reason to do it.

"I was thinking at the place where…" She trailed off.

The shore below the ruins - where Hogwarts stood in the other world. He nodded. "Sounds good. Let me change - we wouldn't want the spies wondering what we're doing here, now would we?"

"Disinformation is good, but I think that would only whet their interest in our work," she replied. "And we don't want that."

Not with their plans to use a spell to hide the entire project from everyone. The more people who knew about the project and the more they knew, the harder the spell would be to cast.

He nodded, smiled and went to change out of his Arctic Expedition suit before he suffered heatstroke here in the hallway.


Having a picnic always sounded better in theory than it was in practice, Ron reminded himself as he sat down on the cloth Hermione had spread over the grass on the shore. You had to haul all the food and drink around, including cutlery and dishes, find a nice spot which wasn't occupied and relatively even, and then eat without spilling your food while sitting on the ground. And fight off wasps, of course - well, perhaps not here. But it was usually quite an affair, and messy to boot. At least for the Weasley family.

On the other hand, the weather was lovely, and the kitchen crew had prepared a great spread of sandwiches and other finger food that could easily be eaten without making a mess, all packed in a basket that could've come straight from a period drama, and with all the needed utensils.

And the guards securing the perimeter were so discreet, Ron could pretend he hadn't seen them. He would've felt guilty for causing such an effort if he weren't aware of Dumbledore's fortune. And a little change of scenery was good for the guards; kept them on their toes, as Moody would say.

He finished his salmon sandwich and sighed. "This was a good idea."

"Thank you," Hermione replied. She leaned back, propping herself up on her hands, and craned her neck with her eyes closed. "I thought we needed it, after all that time in the basement."

"Yes." Ron briefly wondered what the MI5 spies would think since the microphones undoubtedly aimed at them were being countered by Hermione's spell. Probably some ECM device of Dumbledore's. "It's good to feel the sun." He saw her wince and felt guilty. But they had talked about that too often already. "Did you come here often when you were in school?"

"Not as often as I should've," she told him. "If Harry and Ron hadn't dragged me here, I probably would've spent all day in the library."

"As opposed to most of the day." He smiled at her, even more when he saw her frown.

She huffed.

"Nothing wrong with it," he told her. "I spent entire afternoons in the library as a kid." Much cheaper to borrow books than buying them. Especially comic books.

She laughed. "Ron wouldn't have been caught dead in a library. Then again, I don't think there's a library in Wizarding Britain that stocks fiction."

Ron exaggerated his horror at hearing that, but not by too much.

"To be fair, with the Duplication Charm, you can duplicate a book - provided it's not protected against such charms," Hermione explained.

He shook his head anyway. "Perhaps that should be another proposal to the Ministry."

"They'll claim there's no money for it."

"Sponsoring libraries is a tradition among the rich." Some of them, at least.

"Among muggles, yes," she replied. "But I guess it's a possibility." She smiled. "It's not a priority, though."

"Dumbledore would probably sponsor one - and use it to influence Wizarding Britain's youth," Ron said.

Hermione chuckled. "Oh, yes, I could see him doing that."

Ron nodded - he hadn't been joking as much as Hermione probably thought.


Greenwich, London, May 4th, 2006

"...and then the Lovegoods started to feed the nightmares to the Dream Eater. Last we heard, the treatment stuck," Hermione finished her tale as she cut her fish.

"I see," Gabriel said. "That was quite an accident."

Hermione pursed her lips. "It wasn't our fault - no one expected such a reaction. Not even the Lovegoods."

"Well, Xenophilius didn't know about the plan," Ron pointed out.

"Yes. But if he suspected that the Dream Eater could overeat and cause something like this, he would've mentioned it in the wake of the incident," she retorted.

"I don't think the Ministry would have approved of his proposed treatment if he had mentioned such a suspicion," Ron told her. "And if he had suspected that, he would also have assumed that wizarding Luna was involved."

Hermione pressed her lips together before she nodded. Grudgingly. "That's true, I suppose."

Ron smiled, as did Gabriel and Ellen, while Hermione pretended that she didn't notice. "Anyway, we're working on dealing with the Dementors. And on finishing our project."

"Ah." The other man nodded as he finished his own meal.

"Any timetable on that?" Ellen asked.

Once more, Hermione pursed her lips. "We're working on it. But there are a few challenges to overcome."

"But we're dealing with them," Ron said. "It's just that the Dementors take priority."

"And one of those monsters is in our world?" Gabriel looked concerned.

"Locked down tighter than Fort Knox," Ron replied. "It won't escape."

"It's a magical creature," Gabriel pointed out.

"That doesn't mean it can manifest powers at will, or apparate," Hermione said. "Such a thing would've been noticed long ago."

"Besides, if it could it would've fled already - we aren't exactly being gentle with it," Ron said.

"What? What are you doing?" Ellen looked at him and leaned forward.

"Destructive testing," Ron answered. "We need to find a way to kill them all."

Both older Grangers looked quite queasy at that.

"They aren't alive in our sense," Hermione said. "More like malign spirits with limited sapience."

"But still sapient?"

"We can't exactly test them," Ron told them. "But even if they were - they drive people mad and feed on memories. Then they kill their victims. They need to be destroyed."

The Grangers exchanged a glance which told Ron that they didn't quite agree with his opinion.

Well, they would, if they ever met a Dementor in the - rotten - flesh, he was certain.

Not that the odds of that happening were high. Hermione knew better than to expose more people to those monsters. Although… He glanced at her. She was a little quieter than he had expected. And she was biting her lower lip.

"Can you communicate with them?" Gabriel asked.

"In a limited manner, yes. They listen to commands, but the extent of their understanding - whether they are capable of complex thoughts or merely react instinctively like animals, with limited learning capability - is unknown," Hermione explained.

"So you might be preparing to commit genocide on an entire species that might be sapient?" Ellen asked. Her expression was… well, not quite shocked. But disturbed.

And Hermione winced. "So far, we haven't had any indication that they are actually sapient."

"You said they had limited sapience," Gabriel said.

"Yes." Hermione pressed her lips together.

"Shouldn't you find out whether or not they are sapient before you decide to... exterminate them?" Gabriel looked at her.

"That's rather hard, seeing as they only want to suck out your soul as soon as they see you," Ron cut in. "And they have an aura of decay and depression."

"Just because it's hard doesn't mean it shouldn't be done," Ellen told them.

Hermione winced again - that sounded like a saying she had heard often as a child. Or something she had said. "They've been known in Wizarding Britain for centuries. And for all that time, they have been guarding Wizarding Britain's only prison. When they're not feeding on muggles like they did in the war. If they were able to communicate, they would've done so long ago - they've had every opportunity to attempt it."

"They might be unable to understand humans - a totally alien world view with a different set of values and even understanding of the universe might do that," Ellen speculated.

Ron snorted. "That's possible. But that doesn't change the fact that they consider humans food." And most people didn't really empathise with the cow they were about to eat. Not to the point of no longer eating it, at least. "They might be unable or unwilling to change their views - either way, they are a danger to all humans, but especially muggles."

"You could lock them up, though, couldn't you? Seal them away?" Gabriel said.

"Their aura decays material. We could exile them to an island, but there would always be the danger of a dark wizard trying to recruit them," Hermione replied. "And, even if that were feasible, they would starve. Which doesn't exactly strike me as the most humane solution."

Ron snorted. "They're monsters. Just being near them makes you depressed and cold." He shook his head. "They're too dangerous." Too evil, too, but he doubted that the Grangers would consider that a convincing argument. They hadn't met the monsters. Not like he had.

"What about exiling them through your portal?" Gabriel asked.

"And endanger another world?" Hermione shook her head. "Not to mention that I haven't found another world yet. I might be limited to worlds that are very similar to ours, depending on how far I can vary the ritual and still make a connection. It's possible that there's a hard limit for how different two universes can be and still allow a portal to form."

"Is that a dynamic limit?" Ellen asked. "Could your world and our world… drift too far apart?"

"I don't think so. It's just a hypothesis anyway - but I doubt that that's a possible development. The existence of the wizarding world alone is a significant difference, and yet the universes were close enough for a portal."

"The only portal so far," Ron pointed out.

"Yes. But there's no reason there couldn't be other portals; I doubt that there are merely two different universes," Hermione retorted.

"But there's a chance that you could banish the Dementors?" Gabriel asked again.

"First, you'd have to find a way to force the Dementors to enter a portal. Speaking from my admittedly and fortunately limited experience, that's a very difficult task," Ron said.

"The Ministry managed to corral the Dementors that had escaped Azkaban during the war and transport them back, but it was a huge undertaking," Hermione explained. "We wouldn't be able to move them without revealing the existence of the portal to so many people that we wouldn't then be able to cast a Fidelius Charm to hide it."

"Oh."

"And we want those monsters destroyed, not just dumped on someone else," Ron added.

"Yes." Hermione nodded emphatically. "It's our problem, and we have to solve it."

Now it was the Grangers' turn to wince - this must be something else that Hermione had often heard as a child.

"Still, wiping out an entire species…" Gabriel shook his head.

"Like the pox?" Hermione replied with a frown.

"That's a virus," Gabriel told her.

"A fitting comparison for the Dementors." Ron snorted. "You really won't understand until you meet one of them. Everything around them slowly decays and dies. And you feel depressed - like the worst person on Earth." He shook his head. "They're a plague."

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Ellen spoke up again: "So, who wants dessert?"

It was a transparent attempt to change the subject, but Ron and Hermione nodded and smiled.

He didn't really want to further discuss Dementor extermination at the table.


Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire, Britain, May 4th 2006

They appeared in the familiar clearing in the Forest of Dean instead of inside the laboratory. Ron wasn't really surprised. He took a deep breath and looked around. Night had fallen, but the stars and the moon were bright enough to make out most of their surroundings.

"Sorry," Hermione said. "I didn't feel like…" She shrugged, sighing.

"I understand," he said. "Gabriel and Ellen don't know what Dementors are like."

"I know that," she replied. "But what they said… is not entirely wrong." She rubbed her arms - it was a little cold here for her short-sleeved top.

"Not entirely correct, either," he told her. "They're a threat to everyone."

"Yes. Without question. And they have committed horrible atrocities." She sighed again. "But wiping out an entire species…"

"Like smallpox?"

"It's not quite the same, as Gabriel said."

"It's a magical smallpox that can move by itself. And spread out. And dresses in rags."

She pursed her lips as she corrected him, as he had known she would. "The rags are part of their bodies. They aren't really dressed."

He smiled at her. "Close enough, in my opinion. But, honestly, they're monsters, and the world will be better off without them."

"But they might be sapient. They might not be aware of what they are doing - what if they consider us like animals, dangerous animals, and they are behaving like human hunters trying to hunt some prey in a forest full of predators?" Hermione shook her head. "We can't assume that they perceive the world in the same manner as we do - or that they even perceive the same world."

He scoffed - that was a concept he had encountered before. In science fiction and fantasy books and movies, but still. She looked surprised as he shook his head. "If they are sapient, then they should realise that we're sapient as well. Just from observing our behaviour - they react to us, after all. And they've stuck to the deals they've made, and worked with the Ministry, haven't they? If they don't realise that we're sapient and still just see us as dangerous food, then we can assume they aren't sapient themselves. Or, alternatively, they have realised it and don't care."

"But even if the latter is true, there's still the possibility that they could change their ways," Hermione retorted.

"After hundreds of years?" Ron shook his head again.

"Humans considered war a perfectly fine method of pursuing their goals for millennia," she pointed out.

That was true, but… "We don't eat sapient creatures, though. In this world, we don't eat other humans. With very few exceptions," he said.

"That's probably because of the effects of regular consumption of human flesh and brains."

"And what about the effects of the regular consumption of human memories and souls?" He crossed his arms, then let them drop to his sides again. He didn't want to appear confrontational.

"We have no idea about that because we know so little about the Dementors."

"We know enough to know wiping them out is the correct decision," he told her. "If we lock them up, they'll slowly starve. That would be torture. As would be feeding them. And we can't let them be, or they'll go after humans - or someone will try to use them against their enemies. And using Fiendfyre is too dangerous..." And would have severe political consequences in and for Wizarding Britain. Scorching an entire island with dark magic? That wasn't cricket.

She didn't have an answer to that - he could see how her lips twisted into a deep frown.

He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. "It's not an ideal solution, but the alternatives are worse. Both practically and ethically."

She sighed, then slowly nodded. Then she glared at him. "But we will not torture them with meaningless experiments."

Ron refrained from pouting. She was correct, of course - but he had been looking forward to trying out various weaponised toys and food on the Dementor in the cell.


Black Lake, Scotland, May 6th 2006

Cure Found For Cursed Nightmares! Dominican Dream Eaters Eat Dreams! Dominica Refuses to Sell the Creatures to Britain!

Ron looked at the Daily Prophet's headline, then at the illustration below it which didn't look even remotely similar to a Dream Eater. In fact, it looked like the ghost of a Voracious Mole. Then he looked at Hermione. "If anyone thinks Voracious Moles eat nightmares…"

"They don't eat humans. Luna told me so," Hemione said.

Ron winced. "Is that confirmed, or did she just draw conclusions from 'Voly'?"

"Her father confirmed it as well. It seems that Voracious Moles don't like how humans taste."

Ron didn't want to know how they found that out. Especially if that was an experience every mole had to have for itself. "We can only hope that none of the Prophet's readers decides to try to capture a Dream Eater for themselves."

"There'll be at least one such attempt, I think," Hermione replied. "Someone will want to capture one to sell it to the highest bidder." She nodded at the newspaper. "They already mentioned that Dream Eaters only eat so many nightmares per day. And that there's only one known in Britain." She pursed her lips. "Some fools will try to poach one. And the Dominicans won't be happy about it. And all for nothing - by the time anyone manages to return with a captured Dream Eater, Snappy will have gone through most victims anyway."

"Can they stop them?" If this led to Dream Eaters being hurt or killed, the Lunas would probably not forgive themselves. And if they managed to overfeed a Dream Eater… Well, if Snappy had gotten through the majority of the patients already, that shouldn't be a concern.

"I doubt it."

He had feared that.

"I should've expected this," Hermione said, frowning deeply. "Especially after seeing how desperate some of the victims are."

And how stupid, Ron thought but didn't say out loud. Instead, he said: "Well, if Snappy can keep his appetite up, then the whole village should be treated in two weeks."

"That's long enough for poachers to cause trouble," she told him. "If they use muggle aeroplanes, they can reach Santo Domingo in a few hours. Using magical transport would take them longer, of course."

He nodded. "I know." That had been a problem when they had gone to recruit Rosengarten, after all. "How much trouble could this cause?" he asked.

"Capturing or hunting a Dominican Dream Eater is a capital crime in Magical Santo Domingo - and most of the other countries where Dream Eaters are native," she explained. "Some tribes consider them guardians of those who go on vision quests. And those are sacred."

He winced again. That did sound like a serious diplomatic incident in the making.

"And if they curse or kill any locals who try to stop them…" She tilted her head as she trailed off.

"War?"

"I would hope not. The last war between Wizarding Britain and a magical country in the New World was in the 19th century, when Britain made her last attempt to reconquer Magical Jamaica. That was, fortunately, a limited war since neither side had the ability to move enough troops to launch an actual invasion. But now, with regular flights?"

Ron sighed. "Great. And how did wizarding Luna's father manage to get one?"

"He asked the Dream Eater to come with him," Hermione told him with a wry smile. "Or so I was told. But the fact that the Dominican authorities didn't try to stop him or have him arrested indicates that it's the truth. Although I don't know if that means that they consider Dream Eaters to be citizens of their country."

Kidnapping instead of poaching. Or murder. Even better. "I hope the Lovegoods work quickly and cure most of the most anxious patients," he said.

Hermione nodded. "So do I. I trust the Ministry to avoid doing anything stupid or rash - but the Dominicans? They might not be so even-tempered if foreigners try to plunder their land."


Wizarding Luna arrived shortly before lunch, stepping through the portal with a smile on her face, and waved at Ron and Hermione. "Hermione! Ron! I'll be right back with Luna." A moment later, she disapparated with the characteristic popping sound.

Ron dropped the piece of paper he had been filling with rejected wordings for the Fidelius Charm on the desk in front of him and looked at Hermione with a wince. "Do you think she hasn't read the Prophet yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "I can't imagine that. Xenophilius has a subscription. And she liked to denounce the Prophet's lies and misinformation at Hogwarts."

They weren't in school any more, but Ron had to agree - he couldn't see either Luna missing their country's main form of mass media. Luna still tracked the BBC, and her opinion of the company was on a par with wizarding Luna's of the Prophet. Or Hermione's. But… "She's too happy for that."

"Yes." Hermione nodded. "So, we'll have to…"

The Lunas appearing in front of the portal interrupted her. "Hello!" Luna waved at them. "We thought we'd eat lunch with you - we haven't done that in a while, have we?"

"Yes," wizarding Luna added, nodding several times. "And while I love Daddy's cooking, his desserts aren't as good as the ones Dumbledore's kitchen staff creates."

"Ah." Ron grinned. "I'll tell the staff to make enough for everyone."

"Already did," Luna told him, holding up her phone. "And we should be able to eat the first course in ten minutes!"

"You've got a direct line to the lab's kitchen?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore arranged one so we would be able to order food more easily," Luna explained.

"Oh, yes!" her counterpart said. "Though I think it was mostly the fact that we used to call him to order that made him set that up."

Ron chuckled at the mental image of Dumbledore serving as a delivery service.

Hermione cleared her throat. "So… did you read the Prophet today?"

"Yes!" Wizarding Luna frowned. "And they should be ashamed of their poorly-researched article! Dream Eaters can't be bought like cattle!"

"They shouldn't be bought like cattle, but someone will still try it," Luna added.

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "I'm sorry that it came to this - I should've expected this development. Now some unscrupulous poachers might hunt the Dream Eaters."

"Oh, they'll try - but they'll fail," wizarding Luna said, smiling widely.

"Oh?" Hermione blinked. "You think the Dominicans can stop them?"

"Not alone - but our Ministry has offered them assistance to patrol their borders and the habitats of the Dream Eaters. Imagine: British wizards working to protect foreign magical creatures! They've come a long way from importing creatures for some silly tournament."

"And the Dominicans have accepted the offer?" Hermione asked

"Not yet," wizarding Luna told her. "That'll take some diplomacy. But I expect that the Dominicans won't risk the Dream Eaters for silly things like pride."

Ron wasn't sure if he agreed with that assessment.

"And," the witch went on, "if we're lucky, Wilkinson will be among the wizards sent to stop the poachers! Then he'll finally be doing something worthwhile for magical creatures instead of talking to Daddy about what he'd like to do but never can!"

Ron was sure there was more behind her hostility, but he wasn't about to ruin another meal by discussing such a difficult subject.


Black Lake, Scotland, May 10th 2006

"We bring good news!" wizarding Fred announced as he stepped through the portal. "Very good news!"

"You've completed the request," Hermione said in a flat voice. "Harry told us already."

By sending Hedwig, of course.

"Oh, that's true as well. But that's not the good news I'm talking about," wizarding Fred told them. His smug grin widened, Ron noticed.

"And what's the 'very good news' then?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Percy's being promoted to head a delegation to the ICW!" Wizarding Fred beamed at them. His brother nodded emphatically.

"And that's 'very good news'?" Hermione frowned. "It's good for Percy, I suppose, but…"

Ron rolled his eyes as he cut in: "The 'very good news' they are talking about is that now he'll be spending most of his time in Geneva, far away from them."

Both wizards pouted at him. "No one likes a spoiler, Ron!" wizarding Fred said.

Hermione sighed. "Of course you'd make such a stupid joke."

"You say that now! But you'd be saying something else if our joke hadn't been spoiled!" wizarding George claimed.

"You're right," she told him. "Something far less polite, I think."

"Everyone's a critic!"

"Everyone who knows you," Ron told them. "And with good reason."

"I feel pretty unwanted, Fred."

"Indeed, George."

"Complain to yourselves," Hermione said. "Now let's go look at your new invention." She turned towards the door to her lab.

Ron nodded. The sooner they could test it against the Dementor, the better.

"Don't you want to know what delegation Percy will be leading?" wizarding Fred asked.

"I don't doubt that I'll be informed soon enough," she replied without looking back.

Ron agreed - the twins, either set, were rarely able to keep a secret unless it was for a prank.

As expected, wizarding George spoke before Hermione reached the door. "He's heading the Ministry's proposal to form an international committee for the protection of magical creatures."

"The Lunas will be ecstatic!" his brother added.

"Or condemn it as a corrupt cover-up," wizarding George said.

Ron chuckled. Luna would certainly suspect such a thing, even if the proposal was genuine. In fact… He blinked. "Who exactly proposed this?"

"We don't know. Someone in the Ministry, I think," wizarding Fred told him.

"If it is a success, we'll have our pick of people claiming they were responsible," wizarding George said with a shrug.

"And if it doesn't work out, it'll be Percy's fault," wizarding Fred added.

Both grinned.

Hermione, though, was looking at Ron. And then she sighed. "You think this is Dumbledore's work?"

"I'm not an expert on wizarding politics, but if this was triggered by the potential problems with poachers in Santo Domingo, then someone managed to get a proposal approved by the Ministry remarkably quickly. Suspiciously quickly," he added.

"Oh!" Wizarding Fred blinked. "You think he bribed people?"

"No," Hermione said. "He wouldn't expose himself like that. If he's behind this, he'll have worked through middlemen."

"Like wizarding Luna or her father." Ron shook his head.

"Or Percy?" wizarding George suggested but shook his head a moment later. "No, Percy wouldn't take gold. He's much too stuck-up for that."

"I'm sure there are plenty of Ministry workers who would support a proposal if it came pre-funded by 'anonymous animal enthusiasts'," Hermione said, "Or whatever Luna might pick as a cover story."

"Or Dumbledore," Ron added.

"Yes. But now let's focus on our upcoming experiment." She turned to the twins. "Show me the dusted water."


This was pointless. It wouldn't work. Ron would probably miss the Dementor, anyway - it was hard to aim if you couldn't see your target because you were a useless muggle with delusions.

"It's true: clothes can add twenty pounds to your weight."

"Well, I think those clothes actually weigh that much."

"Really? I didn't know ugliness and silliness were so heavy!"

The bloody wizarding twins! Ron rolled his eyes. "Shut up for a moment, will you? I'm about to hit the Dementor, so pay attention."

"We are paying attention! That's why we noticed your clothes."

"We usually don't pay as much attention to a bloke's clothes, you know. Unless it's to make fun of them."

"Which we are doing, of course - so you can resist the Dementor's aura. It's hard and cruel, but someone's got to do it."

"Ha ha." Ron scoffed, ate a small chocolate bar and then opened the cell's door.

The cold hit him hard, but he was used to it by now. Cold didn't really faze him any more. The mental effects, though… it wasn't as if he could afford to lose any part of his mind…

Growling, he shook his head, then aimed the nozzle at the cage. "I'm using the solution now!" he announced, then flipped the switch.

Coloured liquid shot out of the nozzle, drenching the entire cage - he could make out the outline of a figure for a moment before it faded again as the liquid stopped flowing. Even wearing a hazmat suit, Ron didn't want to risk dry water and DMSO entering in his veins.

Before the puddle below the cage could spread, he had already stepped back and closed the door.

"No reaction so far," Hermione commented. "The Dementor is no more agitated than usual after a test."

"But it's fidgeting," Wizarding Fred said. "It probably senses that it's about to face the might of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"Our shop's name shall strike fear in their non-existent hearts as soon as the water reverts to its original form," his brother added. "Which should be any moment now… Wow!"

"Blimey!"

"Oh."

The cage shook for a moment, Ron noted. The Dementor hadn't been able to rock the metal bars like that before. It probably… He stared. The cell was now filled with torn rags and grey… parts. He could see them.

"The Dementor… blew up," Hermione said.

"I can see that," Ron replied. "I can see the parts left behind."

And the aura was gone. He was feeling neither cold nor depressed, he realised with a growing smile.


"Congratulations, Dr Granger."

"Thank you, Professor."

She caught herself smiling stupidly and forced herself to school her features. It wouldn't do to lose her composure now that she'd successfully defended her thesis.

She'd survived much worse, anyway. Pitched battles against murderous bigots. Sneaking into a Death Eater Manor. Breaking blood wards. Breaking into Gringotts.

A bunch of cranky old men attacking her thesis couldn't compare. Most of them hadn't gone too far, anyway - she was still famous, after all, and not everyone wanted to be known for bullying a kidnapping victim who had managed to finish her education in record time. But she knew at least one of the men had tried his worst because her thesis refuted his own work.

Well, she told herself, clenching her teeth, she was correct, and he was wrong. And she had proved it.

She had her degree now. And she would get her grant.

And then she could finally start working on getting home.