Chapter 21: Delivery Dilemmas
The stone chamber was dimly lit by glowing blue flames dancing in a small collection of glass lanterns hung from the walls. Their flickering spectacle was barely illuminating the room as a group of hooded figures entered from a stone stair on the far wall. As the glow from the lights paraded around the sparsely furnished room it was silent for a few moments as the group of wizards and witches split into small parties, seemingly having already formed a plan before their descent deep into the earth where the room resided. Within a few minutes the space was largely the same, aside from the lights being slightly brighter and a large stone font now taking a point of presence in the center of the room. The font itself looked much older than the rough table it was placed upon: given the long forgotten runes carved into its sides, and the steady pulsating energy it seemed to nearly imperceptibly emit, it was clear that this was a device of great magical power.
It was a pensieve. This particular pensieve had once been the property of Albus Dumbeldore, but following his untimely death-the circumstances of which had never been fully determined by the wizarding authorities-it had mysteriously disappeared from his private rooms at Hogwarts. Little was known about its origins, aside from its immense power and likely formation being before the founding of Hogwarts. In normal circumstances, seeing the pensieve would have been a great privilege. Over the centuries a long line of revered Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts had left behind memories from their tenure to be viewed in the font, which contributed to the creation of an invaluable library of reference for school leaders yet to come. Being able to witness it in use was a rare treat for any not in the highest position in the school, though on occasion staff-and even in some rare instances students of the school-had seen the powers of the ancient vessel. However, this was not normal circumstances. With the device now in possession of Voldemort, its intended purpose as a method of instruction had been waylaid in favor of an altogether more sinister use-finding those who were a threat to his total control of the wizarding realm.
No sooner had the font been filled with the memories of the now deceased Heathrow ticket seller when a figure in a scarlet robe cleared a path to the shimmering memories. "The Dark Lord is approaching, make way so that he may see." The others quickly cleared a path, some nearly pressing themselves against the walls as a set of footsteps began reverberating down the stairs. As the echoes neared the shadow of their progenitor loomed, then the man-if it was right to call him a man-approached.
"Good evening Dark Lord." The scarlet hood hissed, "We were successful in our efforts to use the wretch's memories in the pensieve." She gestured toward the table.
He nodded, then walked to the table, lifting the hood from his robe to reveal his face. The pale, scaly skin was a contorted mess-the patchwork of veins visible under the thin skin coursing with blackish blood. The twisted visage was only visible a moment before he placed his face in the bowl, now observing the memories of the Thatcher boy that had been so easily dispatched.
***SPN-HP***
It took some time before he lifted his head from the surface-even a powerful wizard had limited control when attempting to navigate a magic as ancient as this. "They were on a flight to America. A place in Arkansas." He motioned and a map was pulled from a shelf in the corner of the room, it flew over to him and he plucked it from the air. He placed it on the table, flipping through until he found the correct page. As he did so the others present crowded near, trying to see the map. "Here. That is where they are." He pointed at a spot in the middle of the state, "We will meet there, then begin our search." A moment later the room had emptied.
When the group reappeared they were near the airport where Ron and Hermione had landed. The party of cloaked members reassembled, with most of their number arriving at once, though there were a few moments before a final member arrived. He was the youngest of their circle, and it was evident that he lacked many of the same gifts that had made his parents valuable assets to the cause in the past. Unlike the ruthlessness or determination that led his parents to be trusted members of Voldemort's inner circle, he possessed many of the traits typical of a boy half his age. Between the petulant attitude, whining, and inability to truly be useful in combat (usually hiding when faced with a true challenge), it was only for the merits of his bloodline that he had been allowed to be a member of the inner circle. If not for the loss of his parents due to past squabbles with the wizarding authorities, he would have been placed as a grunt carrying messages, but having one more from House Black shouldn't hurt, right?
So when Draco appeared screaming at the top of his lungs due to a splinch where his right arm was missing, it was clear that it had been the final straw for their leader.
"Silence!" He breathed, narrowing his eyes at the boy. "Do you know how much pain I have been in during the years I was without a true vessel? A missing arm is NOTHING compared to what I have endured." Draco tried to bit his lip to stop the screams, but it was evident that with the torrent of blood rushing from his arm he was in a considerable deal of pain. "Bellatrix, deal with the boy. He has vexed me for the last time with his incompetence. I have no use for worthless wastes of his ilk."
Her eyes darted from her nephew to Voldemort, then back again. "Very well, Dark Lord." She replied, a moment of hesitation passing before a green spark caused the young man to fall to the ground.
"Good. Now spread out and search for clues to track down those two. It is likely they came here to find Harry Potter, if we can find them, we should find him as well." Voldemort paused, looking between the seven, "I will be conducting my own search, if you see anything, immediately contact me." A moment later he turned into a puff of black vapor, leaving the others together.
One by one they departed, until only Bellatrix remained with the apparent corpse of her nephew. She kneeled over the body and extricated her wand, tapping his forehead until a silvery mist was pulled from it. She then removed a copper canister covered in runes from her robe and moved the mist toward it, until it had been absorbed. "You will be of use now." She stated, muttering something that made the runes glow a faint reddish light. She smiled then stood up, opening the vessel and to allow four wisps to escape, quickly darting off into the night.
***SPN-HP***
In room 212 Ron sat beside his wife as she squeezed his hand with all the force she could muster. Contrary to the portrayals on television or in the movies, giving birth is a massive ordeal that can last hours (or in some cases, days). Even as the epidural began to take effect, the near constant contractions still radiated through Hermione's body sending jolts of pain as they passed. Ron had offered his hand at the start as a way for her to relieve the stress in some way, but had come to regret it slightly as it was again gripped far too tightly to be comfortable. Shit! She's going to break my hand if it keeps up like this. Come on kid; get out of your mum already!
"Alright, Mrs. Garling…" The doctor said as he stood up from the bottom of the delivery bed, "It looks like you're about 7 cm dilated… We should be seeing some of the head soon."
She huffed in reply, shifting to move her head so her hair wasn't in her eyes, "Good… How much longer will that take?"
"It all depends. Since this is your first it may be a little while. Right now I want you to focus on your breathing and try to save your energy, when it gets to 10 cm you'll need all the strength you have to start pushing." He looked down at his watch, which was buzzing, "Excuse me, I need to tend to another patient. I'll be back in a few moments. If anything changes, push the blue button on the remote and a nurse will come."
"Thank you." Hermione nodded as the doctor left the room to attend to a patient across the hall. It was quiet for a moment aside from the ragged breathing Hermione was attempting to control.
Ron tapped his foot up and down a few times in rapid succession before he spoke, trying to break the silence. "Do you want an ice chip?" Ron asked, gesturing to the bucket next to him on a small table.
"No thanks…" She winced, "Maybe in a little bit."
Ron fretted, My wife's insides are being pushed apart to make way for my kid and I have no idea what the fuck to do! Merlin, please I need some guidance or something here…
"Hey." Ron felt Hermione let go of his hand and pat his arm, "Calm down, you almost look like you're the one giving birth."
Ron exhaled, "Sorry, it's just, I have no idea what to do… I wish I could do more than sit here and give some ice."
She laughed, "Ron, right now you just being here is enough. Calm down, in a few hours we'll all be fine and this'll be behind us."
Before Ron could reply the lights in the delivery room started flickering. He glanced out in the hall and the lights also were flashing briefly before they returned to normal. "What was that?"
"I don't know, you don't think…" she nervously looked toward the window. "…it couldn't be Voldemort, right?"
"No, there's no way they could've tracked us here." Ron shook his head.
The door opened as Dr. Billings entered, "Sorry about the lights, we don't know what's going on; they just started flashing all over the place all at once. The maintenance team is going to look at the basement to see if there's something that needs to be fixed."
***SPN-HP***
A floor below the Winchesters had also noticed the lights' erratic behavior. Dean glanced up from his phone as the lights flashed a third time. He glanced over at Sam and Harry; the two were also both looking at the lighting fixtures around them which had returned back to the steady fluorescent glow they normally emitted. Dean flipped open his jacket and extricated what had once been a Walkman. "You guys have EMF detectors on you?" He held up the device.
Harry shook his head, "No, that's what this is for." He tapped his wand. "Patronuses can detect spirits or dark magic and protect from them, they'll act up when something's near."
Dean blinked, it hadn't occurred to him that patronuses could be useful, "Oh, yeah… I forgot about that." Dean replied, about to tuck the device back into his pocket. "You guys can just do that, then, I guess."
Sam glanced at Harry and put on bitchface 7-Harry! Come on!
Harry got the message, "But your EMF detector is probably better at long range. Patronuses aren't exactly going to lead the way to them, they're defense, not offense." Dean shrugged and noncommittally pulled out the detector. Fuck! Harry, come on, don't make Dean feel like an asshole… He thought to himself, "Dean, your tech stuff is super useful, plus you're easily the best tracker…" Harry paused, Dean didn't seem any different, "Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't want to make your stuff seem less important than magic. Sometimes I just forget about it…"
Dean raised an eyebrow, "Hey, I'm not gonna bitch about having a mind-freak little brother and son with magic powers…" Dean said, looking up from adjusting the device. "If there's a magic thing you guys can do that makes my life easier, I'm all for it. If we didn't need to use it, fine by me, but given that you're not up to it…" Dean smirked as he got the device working, "…My muggle self is going to take the lead."
"We're up to it; we just wanted to make your no-magic ass feel better." Harry snarked.
Dean huffed, "Anyway, while all you Criss Angel wannabes do all of that shit, we muggles still have to hunt the old fashioned way." He flipped on the power toggle.
The lights flickered again, "Alright, let's see where this thing is. I have a feeling the lights aren't just because of the eighty year old wiring not working." Sam said as the three snuck out of the waiting room.
***SPN-HP***
The first floor was clear of supernatural evidence, so the Winchesters ascended the stairwell into the second floor. They arrived in a mostly-empty wing of the hospital that was undergoing renovations.
"Well, this isn't fucking ominous at all." Dean commented as they walked through the hallway. He sidestepped a can of beige paint and pushed a plastic sheet out of the way as they entered an area with new flooring in the process of being installed.
"Why are they only redoing the one wing anyway?" Harry asked, glancing at the collection of construction supplies and tools that made the tight halls even more claustrophobic. "Wouldn't it make sense to do the whole floor at once?"
"I think the governor signed some grant to increase funding for oncology programs, so they're redoing this wing to make it into a new cancer center." Sam muttered as he ducked under a low-hanging vent that had fallen from the open ceiling. As he ducked his foot stepped on something slick, leading the tallest Winchester to slide forward and smack his face on the metal.
"You okay?" Dean asked, barely containing laughter. Harry hadn't managed to keep his chuckling to himself.
Sam rubbed his nose, "Fine, thanks for asking." He looked down at his shoe, "Looks like something left us evidence." Sam reached into his pocket and grabbed a tissue, using it to dab up a bit of the greenish viscous goo that was on the floor.
Dean moved the EMF detector close and the needle started to jitter. "Well, it's definitely a ghost."
"A pretty powerful one, too." Harry added. "You guys said only serious ghosts can manifest ectoplasm."
A moment later the silence was broken by a piercing wail, and all three Winchesters braced themselves. A moment later a woman wearing a tattered robe flew past, shooting right through Harry. After an extraordinarily uncomfortable second the chill passed and the ghost had flown out of the area. "What the fuck was that?!" Harry shouted. "Don't get me wrong, I like not having my face clawed off, but I don't like being run through by a bitch colder than Ellen DeGeneres!"
"I don't know, it's almost like it didn't see us at all." Dean replied, patting Harry on the back to make sure he was okay.
"It didn't because it wasn't looking for us." Sam stated.
Harry and Dean exchanged a look, "And you know that how?"Harry asked.
Sam turned to face the two, "I'm pretty sure that was a tethered spirit, and if that's the case, we're in some deep shit."
"Considering we're nearly always in some deep shit, I'd like to know the variety we're in at the moment." Dean commented.
"And follow up, what's a tethered spirit?" Harry added.
Sam sighed, "A tethered spirit is a ghost imprisoned by powerful dark magic, held in constant pain unless it does the bidding of its master." Sam paused, "It's really potent stuff, to do it you need a soul vessel, a seriously dark magic artifact created by killing the one you hold most dear, after you kill them they become a tethered spirit. You can add to their menagerie any other person you kill personally by collecting their soul when they die."
"Jesus Christ…" Dean recoiled, "That's fucked up."
"So that thing is under the control of some dark wizard who's telling it to find someone or something." Harry paused, his eyes widening as he reasoned a conclusion. "Probably Ron or Hermione, given that they're the only people here who a dark wizard would be interested in aside from us, and for once we aren't the target of the thing out to kill someone."
"So, some Voldemort groupie let these things loose and they managed to cross the Atlantic and half the continent?" Dean asked hopefully.
Sam bit his lip, "No, the range on these things isn't that far, they can go a few miles at most from their master."
"So some death eater is only a few miles from here?" Dean replied, exasperated, "Now? Specifically during Hermione's labor?" He wrung his hand through his hair as he shouted and kicked the wall, "SONUVABITCH!"
"Yes, but it's only looking for them. If we leave, chances are by the time they are found we can be halfway across the country laying low." Sam commented, mentally thinking over his go-bag.
Dean exhaled, "No… We can't leave those two here."
Sam and Harry blinked, "Holy shit, you actually do care about them."
"So what if I do? I'm allowed to change how I feel about people." Dean crossed his arms.
Harry smiled as Sam chuckled. "It's just nice to see you finally making friends." Sam joked.
"Shut up." Dean groused, "Now come on, let's stop that spirit from finding those two idiots who seriously are gonna owe me one."