Chapter 9

The day of the funeral...

Hermione stared at the silvery surface of the mirror, hardly believing what she saw. There, a mourning widow clothed in the darkest of black gloomily met her gaze, preparing to say a final goodbye to her other half.

Except, Hermione thought guiltily, he never really filled the gaping hole in my heart that only one man could.

She sat down heavily on the floor in front of the mirror, taking deep breaths. Closing her eyes, she could still see Ron's smile, his laugh. All of the good times that she had with Ron, Harry, Ginny, and her children, Hermione remembered. Sneaking out of the common room their first year, to hunting horcruxes, to playing with their children, all of those beautiful times wouldn't happen again. There was a time when they lived in a world where they had each other, and that was enough. Best friends against the world, and they survived. She caressed her simple necklace, a last gift from her husband. It was over wasn't it? At least her time with Ron.

She remembered their first kiss, and the elation the memory brought. Finally, she remembered thinking. It felt so right.

"Expecto Patronum," she whispered, seeking her playful otter to bring her comfort.

But the silvery light was not as strong as it used to be, and it didn't even take corporeal form. She had always had problems with this particular charm, but the feeble light depressed her further.

She focused on the first time Rose could speak, and how elated both Ron and she were. She tried again, whispering the incantation a little more forcefully. The Patronus was even feebler, this time.

And so Hermione remembered what she dared not. She remembered the memories that she had locked away forever, and thought of him.

His kiss. His smile. His laugh. His anger. His beauty.

"Expecto Patronum," she tried again, putting more emphasis into her incantation. Her patronus began to form, and she smiled slightly, anticipating her playful, adorable-

-swan?

She froze, staring as the regal swan floating back and forth in front of her, eying her with a combination of innocence and disdain, if such a thing were possible.

"But, that's not possible. My patronus is an otter. His patronus is a-"

"Hermione?" Ginny called from the fireplace downstairs. "Are you ready?"

With the distraction, Hermione's swan vanished, so she trudged down the steps where Ginny was waiting. Still shaken by her discovery of the patronus, Hermione shuddered a little, and Ginny wrapped her arms around Hermione, misunderstanding the thought behind the shiver.

"It'll be all right," Ginny cooed.

"I... I know," Hermione muttered. She pulled back from Ginny, and grabbed onto Ginny's arm, apparating to the all-too familiar burial ground. Here lay Fred, Remus, Tonks, Lavender, too many to count. Too many deaths of too many heroes and ordinary people. And now, Ron would lie next to them.

Everything was a blur, to Hermione. She only really registered the tight grips of her children's hands, but every murmur of sympathy or comforting touch was quickly forgotten. Hermione had prepared her speech, and read if off tearfully as she said her final goodbyes to her husband. George shared the various pranks he and Fred had pulled on Ron, and Ginny recounted Ron's interrogation of Dean Thomas when she was dating. Hermione wistfully said a few parting words as they lowered his coffin into the ground.

"I wish I had more time with you. I wish you could have seen our Rose and Hugo grow, and find their own loves. I wish you could have walked Rose down the aisle, or interrogated her first boyfriend. I wish you could have taught Hugo to play Quidditch or brought him to another Chudley Cannons game. Alas, none of this is to be.

You were my friend in the worst times of my life and a wonderful husband during the best. Ron, my dear, I will miss you forever," Hermione finished, wiping her tears away. Ron was finally laid to rest alongside Fred, and Rose collapsed into her mother as the first shovelful of dirt was thrown onto her father. Hugo was muttering nonsensical words, and all Hermione could do was clutch her two children to her chest, falling to her knees. None of the others dared to disturb the heartwrenchingly broken family. The whole Weasley clan huddled together, some of their spouses feeling slightly out of place and miserable.

Draco stood between Blaise and Alex, staring stiffly at Ronald Weasley's final journey. He couldn't really name what emotion was running through him. It was too complicated. On one hand, Draco could feel a twinge of sorrow, but it was more for the pain Ron's death created for Hermione and the rest of the Weasley family. On the other hand, he almost felt slightly relieved. Ever since he could remember, he had been jealous of the damned Weasel, when it should have been the other way around. The Weasel had a true, loving family, honest and amazing friends, and most of all, Hermione. He even held Astoria's love, for Salazar's sake! As far as Draco was concerned, the Weasel didn't deserve much of it. He destroyed Hermione's heart time after time again, left the Wonder Duo on their hunt for horcruxes, and was often an unforgiving git - not that Draco could say he himself was any better, but Hermione deserved someone better. Longbottom should have had the lif Weasley led, Draco decided. Longbottom wouldn't have botched up things when it really mattered.

Ronald Weasley had a pretty damned blessed life, and only messed the most important things up. Draco frowned.

Blaise and Alex both noticed, and elbowed him together.

"What?" Draco hissed.

"We know what you're thinking, mate. Get over it. Ron messed up a few times, but don't we all? He was unforgiving, but he's dead. Have some respect," Blaise muttered.

"I'm burying my ugly thoughts about the Weas-Weasley with him," Draco retorted in a hushed whisper.

"Then be done. It's over," Alex said, softly motioning to the mound of freshly turned dirt.

"I'm finished," Draco nodded.

The three turned their attention back to Hermione and the other Weasleys. They were all tearfully hugging each other, reminding themselves that they were not alone in the grief they face. The children began to say their goodbyes, McGonagall insisting that they get back to Hogwarts as soon as possible.

Ara and Scorp walked over to their parents.

"I'm surprised you came," Draco said to his son, ruffling his hair.

"We thought we ought to support Rose," Ara explained, giving Blaise and Alex a big hug.

"I'm glad you're thinking of her," Alex said proudly to the two eleven-year olds. "Take care of Rose, okay? Watch out for her, and owl us or Hermione if anything seems off. Let a Professor know, too," Alex began rambling, before Blaise put his hand on her shoulder.

"Aunt Alex, we know. We'll take good care of her," Scorpius said solemnly.

"Good, we're counting on you two," Blaise looked affectionately at his godson.

"Off with you, McGonagall calls," Draco ushered them off fondly.

"Love you, Dad," Scorpius grabbed his father's hand. Draco squeezed it back.

"Love you too, son."

Alex kissed both children, and Blaise tackled both of them in a hug before handing them off to McGonagall and a few other professors that had come to escort the children and pay their respects.

Harry and Hermione embraced, both inwardly cringing that they would never feel the third embrace ever again.

"You okay?" harry murmured into her ear, rubbing her back. He pulled back slightly to look at her - the best friend that had stuck with him through thick and thin. He searched her unnaturally pale face, worriedly scrunching his eyebrows at the lifeless brown eyes that stared emptily back.

"It should have been me," she whispered brokenly, ignoring Harry's protests. "Shush Harry, you know it. Ron sacrificed himself for me. Maybe if I had just-"

"Just what?" Harry interrupted, slightly angry. "If you had died, Ron would be beating himself up over your death and his failure to act quickly enough. Stop it, Hermione. You've been down this path before - we all have, being survivors of this war. We all know it leads nowhere good. Snap out of it! Please," Harry begged, seeing that he wasn't getting through to her. "Damn it, Hermione, don't do this again!"

Ginny rushed over, hearing Harry's anguished cries. "Harry?" she called, wiping any leftover tears from her face.

"Gin, she's doing it again. We're losing her again!" he cried.

"NO! No, no, no, 'Mione! Hermione listen, to me. You can't do this. You can't just check out of reality because it hurts too much. Hermione, focus, remember your parents. You have children, for Merlin's sake!" Ginny attempted, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Hermione was lost in her own world, shutting off all contact with the outside world.

"He would have been alive. The Weasleys would be better, had I gone. They may mourn, but not like they do for Ron. He could have found someone better to love," Hermione said in a trance-like monotony.

"That's not true!" Ginny protested.

"No!" Harry sobbed, falling to his knees. Ginny knelt next to him, burying her face into his shoulder. "I've already lost one of my best friends! I can't lose another," he sobbed.

"Oh gods," Kaelyn muttered as she spotted the three. "I hope she didn't..."

"Didn't what?" Charlie asked facing the direction his wife was looking. "Oh no..." he murmured.

Suddenly, the rest of the Weasley family turned to take in the horrid sight before them: Hermione's relapse into her insanity and depression. George buried his face in his hands, Angelina beginning to sob anew. Audrey and Percy were roughly shoved aside as Alex, Blaise, and Draco ran past them to Hermione.

"No, Mione, you are not pulling this shit again!" Alex shouted angrily, gripping Hermione's shoulders and shaking her. "I won't allow it! We are going to get you back, 'Mione. I know you're still partly here, so listen carefully. You are not worthless. You have done so much good for the world. And that's why we're going to get you back, you hear? Whatever it takes, we will get to you, and you will not stop us from doing so. We love you, Hermione, so very, very much! Stay strong until we find you, okay? We're going to get you out of this, because we love you," Alex sobbed, searching Hermione's eyes for any hint of emotion.

"Bad wolf," Blaise muttere into Alex's ear, gripping her shaking shoulders.

Alex inhaled quickly, smiling slightly through the tears running down her face.

"Bad wolf," she said to Hermione, whose brown eyes flickered with recognition.

"Shadow claw," Blaise said to the broken woman.

"Black swan," Draco added.

Hermione's eyes began to twinkle, widening a bit in understanding.

"Sun star," Hermione whispered, with a faint smile, and then disapparated away.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Harry demanded. "How did you do that? Where did she go?" he continued to bombard the three with question after question.

"Relax Harry," Ginny calmed him down. "Let them answer."

"It's a promise," Draco stated, a muscle working in his jaw. "It promises that we will find each other and find the light, despite the darkness that envelops us. Each of those things mean something to us."
"For example, BAD wolf is the first letters from each of our names, Blaise, Alex, and Draco. My patronus is a wolf," Alex explained.

"Shadow refers to a nightmare I always face, and claw comes from my patronus, a panther," Blaise put in.

"And I'm a dark, wealthy, vain snob," Draco summed up. "A black swan."

"As for where she went, I don't know. Likely, some place that holds good memories," Alex speculated hopefully.

Harry nodded stiffly, still worried.

"Alex, our appointment with the Aurors is in a few minutes. We should get going," Blaise said, glancing worriedly at his watch.

"Aurors?" asked Harry, on alert with the distraction. "Which ones?"
"Not part of your team, Harry. The ones dealing with the Flint case," Alex explained.

"Why do you have an appointment with them?" Ginny asked curiously, slowly getting up and pulling Harry up with her. They brushed each other off, dropping pieces of dirt and grass on the lawn they had fallen on.

"We're trying to break the curse on Astoria, but we need to understand what Flint was thinking about when he cursed Astoria. Hopefully it will give us an idea of how to proceed," Draco explained.

"Well, good luck," Ginny replied. Draco aloofly nodded his thanks and held out his hand for Alex and Blaise. The tree apparated away, leaving Harry and Ginny to explain to the rest of the Weasleys what had just happened.

Molly Weasley was the first to demand answers. "Well? Where is Hermione? How is she? She didn't relapse, did she?" Molly cried anxiously, hands on her hips.

"Mum-" Ginny began, but was interrupted by Harry.

"Where's Hugo? Hermione left, but did she get Hugo?" Harry asked confusedly, glancing towards Fleur, who was looking after the children.

"She apparateed back 'ere to take 'ugo off ov my 'ands," Fleur answered.

"Oh, okay," Harry breathed, relieved. Ginny gripped his hand.

"Well?" Molly said impatiently, worry lines creasing her face.

"She did relapse, and neither of us could get through to her. But then Alex, Zabini, and Malfoy came-" Harry was interrupted.

"That boy better not have touched a hair on her head!" Arthur Weasley roared.

"Dad, he didn't hurt her!" Ginny quickly intervened before he began a very Ron-like rampage. Her father immediately relaxed, but not completely.

"Anyways, those three managed to snap her back, at least partly. They had these code names that all were supposed to have some personal meaning," Harry continued.

"When you put all of the codes together, to them its a promise of hope," added Ginny.

"There's something about those three..." Bill murmured thoughtfully.

Molly sighed. "It's because they remind you of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, isn't it?"

Arthur and Bill sputtered a bit. "How could you compare those- those- those Slytherins to them?" Arthur asked his wife incredulously.

"Well, Alex is like Hermione, always keeping the boys in check. Draco's got a lot on his shoulders right now, much like Harry always did, and Blaise is an amazingly faithful friend, like Ron," Charlie pointed out.

"Actually, there's quite a bit of parallels. Alex married Blaise, like Hermione married Ron. Those three are constantly together, not unlike our own Golden Trio. They've been through life-threatening situations together, as have this lot. Alex and Blaise had a daughter and then a son, just like Hermione and Ron-"

"But they're not the same! They're completely different people!" Percy cut in.

"Are they that different though?" George challenged. "And Charlie, since when have you begun calling the Malfoy ferret-face by his first name?"

All eyes turned to Charlie. "Since he earned my respect. If you had seen him and his kid..." Charlie shrugged. "You have to be a decent person to be a mediocre parent, but Draco is doing a pretty damn-"

"Language!" Molly scolded.

"Sorry, Mum. He's doing a fine job as a parent, thus far. At least, for a Malfoy," Charlie added.

"That doesn't really say much," Bill snorted.

"I'm sick of talking about the ferret-face," Ginny groaned. "Let's move on."

Alex, Blaise, and Draco said their farewells to Hermione and the Weasleys, and apparated to the Ministry of Magic, stumbling as they arrived. Blaise groaned.

"Draco, your apparation technique is horrendous. It's really deteriorated terribly," he complained, clutching his head.

"That's it. We're practicing tonight," Alex snapped, bent over with nausea.

"I'm sorry, I was just distracted," Draco rolled his eyes. "Though I could use some practice."

Blaise helped Alex straighten up, and pulled the two in the direction of the lifts. "To the Auror department!" Blaise declared cheerfully.

"I hate these elevators," Alex grumbled as they stepped inside.

"Lifts," Draco corrected with a smirk.

"I'm an American and proud of it!" she snapped back, knowing that she had just given him the exact reaction he was looking for.

"America!" Blaise teased her in a Southern accent. Alex punched him playfully.

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement," a voice announced as they arrived. They exited the lifts, or elevators, and turned through a few halls, passing the offices to their place of appointment, noting the sunny magical windows along the way.

"Who is it that we're meeting with?" Draco asked as they entered the room labelled 'DE42 - Conference Room.'

"I believe Terry Boot," Blaise informed Draco. "Brilliant Ravenclaw, next to Anthony Goldstein."

"Dennis?" Alex exclaimed incredulously as they found the mousy-brown haired man at one of the tables. He was in the middle of a conversation with said Auror: Terry Boot.

"Alex? What are you doing here? Blaise, Malfoy," he acknowledged.

"We have an appointment with Boot here," Draco explained.

"I'm just finishing up here," Dennis responded. "I think Megan mentioned the attacks in France?"

Alex nodded. "Too coincidental, don't you think?"

Terry Boot, the black-haired man next to Dennis, bobbed his head up and down in agreement.

"No Death Eater activity for close to ten years, and suddenly we have some serious cases on our hands. I'm heading the investigation for Flint as well as France with Goldstein. That's why Dennis is here."

"Gotcha," Alex nodded in understanding.

"I've got a meeting with Kingsley in a few minutes, so I'd better be off." Dennis states, standing up and shaking Terry's hand. "Pleasure working with you."

"As always," Terry smiled.

"I'm off. My condolences to your loss, and best hopes for your wife's health, Malfoy."

"Thank you," Draco smiled stiffly.

"Oh, and by the way, Megan and I are expecting," Dennis added.

"My goodness! Congratulations!" Alex squealed.

"Pretend to be surprised when Megan tells you later, all right?" Dennis grinned, and exited the room after Alex's eager promise.

"All right, then. Down to business," Terry clapped his hands together, motioning for the others to take a seat.

"So, you want to interrogate Marcus Flint?" Terry began, suspiciously eying Draco. The blond noticed, and glared back at his former classmate.

"Less interrogate, more... It's not for investigative purposes, that's your job as Aurors and I have complete confidence that you've done a very thorough job in the investigation thus far," Alex assured Terry, whose slight frown had loosened into a thin line. "But in regards to Astoria's health, we're hoping that a few questions might elucidate Astoria's condition. If we can get an idea of what Flint was thinking when he created the curse, we may be able to break the magic that holds her."

Terry leaned back into his chair, assessing Alex's genuity.

"Well?" Draco asked impatiently, after a moment's pause. Blaise and Alex both kicked him under the table.

"Forgive him, he's anxious about his wife's condition," Blaise tried to delicately salvage the situation from Draco's rudeness.

"I can understand," Terry said finally. "I'll let you ask him, but there will be a lot of rules. First off, Malfoy stays here."

"Look here Boot!-" Draco snarled, getting up only to be pushed back down by Blaise and Alex.

"It's nothing against you personally," Terry sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's just that there are a lot of prejudiced people in the auror department, and they don't trust you, Malfoy. I'm sorry, but I can't risk any complications with prejudice. Normally, I'd fight for you, but with the Death Eater activity in France, tensions are running high and are easily snapped. Blaise, I don't know if I can allow you either. It's easier to just let Alex in, and I'm sure you trust her to get your questions answered?"

"Of course we trust Alex, but-!" Draco and Blaise exclaimed simultaneously, but Terry cut them off.

"So that's settled then. I presume, Alex, you wish Veritaserum to be administered?"

She nodded.

"Very well. You will have ten minutes with him, I can't give you anymore time."

"Can we see the transcript of the questioning?" Blaise asked.

"Yes, actually, that you can. We got the idea from muggle instant messaging systems..." here Terry paused, throwing a side-long glance at Draco, who met the gaze indifferently. "Anyways," Terry continued, "we've magicked the paper to automatically copy down everything in the room, and you two can see exactly was is going on by watching the speech flow on. If you ever have any questions or suggestions for Alex in the midst of the questioning, I'd just use the charmed rings you three have."

Instantly, all three had their wands out, pointing at Terry, who seemed rather unaffected.

Alex realized a second later exactly how bad this scene would look if someone walked in, so she lowered her wand.

"Lower your wands! Imagine if someone walked in right now!" Alex hissed at Draco and Blaise, who begrudgingly put their wands away. They didn't, however, stop glaring at the Auror.

"Explain how you know that," Draco growled.

"You all wear two rings. One of them on each of you is exactly the same, while the rest are, I presume, wedding bands. I run in the same social circles as Hermione does, and she has the same one as you. I had asked her before about it, and she explained the similarity to the Dumbledore's Army galleons," Terry said nonchalantly. "Are we quite done here? Time's a tickin'..."

"Let's go," Alex said curtly, pocketing her wand and leading Terry out of the room.

"Here's the transcripts." Terry handed two blank sheets of parchment to Draco and Blaise. "Don't move while I'm gone, all right? Not a muscle. Don't even blink. Blink, and you're dead, you hear me?" Terry Boot warned.

"We hear you," Blaise replied neutrally, grasping Draco's arm to restrain the blonde from doing anything stupid. "But you better bring Alex back just how she is, or I won't care that I'm in the middle of Auror Headquarters," Blaise added.

Terry nodded. "Alex, this way please." Terry directed her down the hall into a darker section of Level 2. They stopped at room DEI17, entering after several layers of security had been disabled - and reenabled, of course, after they had stepped inside the room.

Alex surveyed the small interrogation room, automatically classifying the table and chairs' lethal potential, the strength of the glass, and the complexity of the wards that contained Marcus Flint. He was situated in a room separated from them, the only connection being the glass window in the wall. There was only one way to escape, and that was the door from which they had come. If an emergency really occurred, she could probably break through the anti-apparition wards fairly quickly, but would be energy-consuming and potentially dangerous: she hadn't really practiced for years. Plus, Flint could get away before she could replace the anti-apparition wards. She became aware that Terry was evaluating her, just like she was the room.

"Yes?" she asked, not looking at him, still taking in the details of the room: a cracked brick here, a splintered table corner there.

"You've completely evaluated this room and possible escape routes within the first fifteen seconds of entering. How did you become so acutely observant? he asked curiously.

"There's a class at the university I attended. It taught us how to survive. I'm a bit rusty, but there have been times where that class has saved my or someone else's life," she replied tersely, fully in her sensing-danger mode. "May I begin questioning him?"

"The veritaserum has been administered. Your time begins now," Terry informed her.

Alex approached the glass, which was likely a mirror on the other side, not unlike muggle police interrogation rooms.

"Who are you?"

"Marcus Flint, husband to Pansy Flint nee Parkinson and father to Fiona and Felix Flint," the dejected man said tonelessly, his back to the mirror as he sat hunched over on his white prison bed.

"Who am I?"

"I don't fucking know, all right?" he snarled.

"Just testing you. How old is- are your children?" Alex asked, curiously. For all she knew, Felix Flint didn't exist.

"Fiona is twelve years old while Felix has yet to be born."

"When will he be born, then?" Alex asked confusedly, knowing that Felix Flint definitely did not exist yet.

"In eight months," Flint replied monotonously.

"What were you thinking about during your ambush at King's Cross?" Alex tried, figuring it might be worth a shot to be straightforward.

"Obviously I wasn't," Flint growled, sounding more sane than he had in years.

"What emotions do you associate with Hermione Granger?" Alex tried a new line of questioning.

"Hatred, betrayal, disgust, hopelessness," Flint listed.

"Why do you feel these particular emotions?"
Because she's a mudblood who holds far more power than she realizes, and fails to save my innocent children because of her ineptitude!" he spat. Before Alex could continue, he spoke again.

"She's the fucking key to unlocking it, don't you guys understand? EVERYTHING. She is so, so powerful. All the good and evil in the world, she can unleash it! The fate of the universe lies in her hands. I saw it. I saw the time vortex and the paths we can take. I know the Goddess of Choice. If the mudblood dies now, the potential for destruction would be nil. Don't you see? You fucking idiots. Can't you see the swirling doom that she brings?" he began ranting crazily. "Black, red, yellow, burning, fire, always, death, floods, plagues, fire, red, yellow, all of it! All of it! ALL OF IT! Everything, everywhere, always!" he doubled over on his bed, and began pounding his fist on his head and his other hand on the wall.

"I see the bronze and gold and silver and black that can continue to shine their light after the mudblood is gone. But the mudblood's life risks everything! She will kill if all goes wrong. He will kill if all goes wrong. And with their best friends' light destroyed, the protectors of light will become distributors of dark. They will be the Ferocious Four, spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning in so much black, black, black, black. The universe will die, and all is lost to the dark. Dark, dark, dark, dark, dark." he repeated over and over again like a mantra.

She had goosebumps on her arms, since she felt a personal significance of those rantings. Who were Hermione's best friends? Alex, Draco, Blaise, Harry, and Ginny. Of them, three will join Hermione in a dark campaign if all went wrong. But what would have to go wrong? Hermione shouldn't have to die!

Her ring warmed, and Alex focused on the message. "Astoria" is all she saw.

"What did you want when you accidentally hit Astoria?" Alex asked in a sweeter, softer, voice.

"For the mudblood to feel the pain. The never ending, never stopping pain that envelops you and crushes you, always, always, always spreading," he sneered. "For her to pay for the d-d-d-d-dark that she can bring. She brings. She brings. She brings," he chanted.

"Mudblood!" he cursed. "Mudblood! Pay for your future deeds. You're the fucking key!" he called out to the ceiling. "You're the fucking key! Die and never unleash the dark! Live and the dark can come. It approaches."

"Time's up," Terry said quietly, looking just as disturbed as Alex was. She nodded, beginning to step away from the glass.

"It's your future, too," Flint hissed. Alex whirled around to face the man. His eyes were glazed over, a hollow shell of what they used to be. "I can sense you. You follow the light. You have dabbled in the dark before, as has everyone who attended your school. It has made you powerful, oh, so, so, so very powerful." He tilted his head. "It's a slippery slope to the dark side, no matter how well you have withstood it before. It's your future, too. Will you eliminate the problem before it presents itself? Or will you fail to restrain the monster and let it consume you? It's your future, too!" He sang in a jeering taunt.

His voice followed her out of the room. "It's your future, too!" he sang.

Alex was thankful for the time limit, and quickly returned to the conference room. "Terry, are we allowed to hold onto one of these transcripts?"

"I would say no, but then you'd just use a pensieve to recreate it. I'll take one though, for our records."

"Thanks Terry," Alex said gratefully.

Draco looked meaningfully at BLaise, who then cleared his throat. "One last thing, is it possible for us to get a transcript of the interrogation of Flint that you're Aurors have had thus far?" Blaise asked cautiously.
"Why?" Terry stiffened.

Alex decided to try. "Just to see if there's anything else relevant to Astoria's case of course. Anything you skilled Aurors may have uncovered could be extremely valuable - I'm of course, not nearly as qualified in interrogation techniques as i am sure your Aurus are. I may have missed something that could prove to be crucial to Astoria's survival."

"Alex," Terry tsked. "I know what you're doing. You're a very persuasive speaker."

Draco inhaled roughly.

"But I have to say, it worked. As long as that's your only reason..."

"I assure you, that is my only motivation. If you want, you could put a protective spell on it if it's really that classified," Alex suggested.

"I'll do that," Terry smiled genuinely at her. "I'll be right back, give me a moment.

As Terry left the room, Draco exhaled loudly.

"Wow. Flint is nuts. But he's making too much sense..." Draco began. Blaise and Alex nodded their heads vigorously.

"Not right now, we can discuss this later," Alex mouthed, looking around the room for emphasis.

"But whatever, because that person is such a stuck up git!" Draco muttered, changing the subject.

"Ha, I'm unfortunately stuck in the room with him," Blaise commented snidely, earning himself a punch. "What is, it beat up Blaise day?"

"Yes," both Alex and Draco stated straight-faced.

"Humph," Blaise stuck his tongue out maturely.

"I've got them," Terry announced, reentering the room. "They're protected so that only you three and Hermione can see it. You can't reproduce these transcripts, since the content will automatically erase itself."

"Got it. Thank you so much for your time, Terry," Alex shook his hand.

"No problem. Anything for you - and Astoria's health," he added, almost as an afterthought. Blaise thought it necessary to intervene.

"Listen, Terry, I really appreciate what you've done for us. I know we weren't friends or enemies in school, but what do you say to starting over?" Blaise held out his hand, and Terry grasped it firmly.

"Pleasure was mine," Terry smiled. "Malfoy," he nodded towards Draco, who was staring rather frostily at the Ravenclaw.

"Boot," Draco returned. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Terry responded, and the three left the level, full of more questions than they had begun with. They made their way back to the Atrium, flooing to their company's headquarters.

"Remind me again why we're at work on a Saturday?" Draco groaned.

"Because I wanted to look up some literature on pain curses and anything else relevant to Astoria, your wife, may I remind you," Alex said tiredly. The three emerged in the main lobby, passing various laboratories as they made their way to the library.

"Accio items on pain curses," Alex shouted as they entered the large room. A good twenty books flew from various corners of the library and into Alex's arms, who placed them on one of the long wooden tables.

"Accio items on magical comas," Blaise called, adding another ten books and nineteen articles onto the stack.

"Accio items on magic afflicting the nervous system," Draco added, calling another seventeen.

The three sat down and began reading, searching for anything relevant to Astoria's case. A few hours later, they had narrowed the pile down to about five books and ten studies published in various review articles.

"Ugh," Draco groaned, clutching his head. "All of these articles on the Cruciatus curse are giving me a mental crucio."

"I feel you, mate," Blaise sighed, slamming one of the heaviest textbooks on the table loudly.

"Blaise! That is mahogany!" Alex scolded. Draco rolled his eyes at her.

"We are magical folk, remember Alex," Blaise teased.

"All right, what did you find?" she asked them.

"That magically induced comas are typically when the magic blocks or causes the body to block the electrical signals of the nervous system. It's almost as if it is shielded, rather than the magic keeping the nerves from sending signals," Blaise informed them.

"Does it make a force field of a sort?" asked Alex.

"Or does the magical energy disrupt the electrical signals?" asked Draco.

"Depends on the curse," Blaise shrugged. "The wand movement, if smoother or more circular, creates the shield-type blockage. Jagged or sharper movements create disruption," Blaise answered.

"Anything else?" Draco asked.

"That's about it."

"Wait, how do you stop a magically induced coma once it's in place?" Alex held up her hand.

"Well... you don't. It's really tough. Theoretically, you would destroy the force field, or you would try to prevent the electrical signal disruption by either absorbing the magical energy or deflecting it elsewhere, but there aren't many studies on that."

"Seriously? No one has thought of this yet? Or published anything on this?" Draco asked incredulously. "That doesn't sound right. Maybe we're just lacking the relevant articles in our particular library."

Alex gave him a look. "You're insulting a library that Alex Wong and Hermione Granger built and compiled? Really?"

"Quit while you're ahead," Blaise muttered. "Anyways, what about you, Draco?"

"It's all pretty obvious. Magic intended to cause pain attacks the nervous system by augmenting hormonal signaling, or neurotransmitters, and the electrical signals themselves. The energy of the magic tends to go a little bit faster on the electrical side, since magic is energy and excites the electrons and whatnot. It tends to help add to the activation energy for the enzymes and hormones, though, so it affects both," Draco outlined.

"Makes sense," said Alex. "I found that pain curses typically aren't very stable and create a lot of side effects. Like the Cruciatus curse - it makes some people go insane, like the Longbottoms, because of the overload of electrical signals and neurotransmitters, as you were saying, Draco. it's because of the intense emotions behind pain curses: it causes the magical energy to go haywire since it isn't a concentrated, controlled emotion. That creates loads of problems. The only way that really works to counteract those curses is to redirect the magical energy into a more ordered, calmed direction. Some people tried to just shield the nerves from the energy or prevent the nerve receptors from working, but the energy just bounced off and destroyed something else," Alex finished.

Blaise looked thoughtful. "So, the ideal solution would be to engineer a spell that uses the chaotic energy, rather than the witch or wizard's energy, to do good?"

"My thoughts exactly. Also, perhaps we can repurpose the energy to repair the damage the curse inflicted," Alex thought aloud.

"The incantation for that would be really complicated," Draco mused. "Maybe something about absorbing and repairing, similar to Reparo."

"Hmm... we should look up the Latin word for absorb and maybe heal," Alex suggested. "Redirect? There's a lot of choices, and it will be hard to test all of them out in a short amount of time. Developing a healing spell is the worst! We'll have to go through animal trials, then human trials, then get the Magical Health Association's approval and St Mungo's approval before we can use it on Astoria. That's years in development, not just a few days!" Alex exclaimed worriedly.

"Love, relax! Write it down, but let's go home. I'm starving," Blaise ordered.

"All right!" Alex conceded, breathing deeply in and out.

"You'd die if Blaise weren't here to tell you otherwise," Draco laughed.

They had just exited the library when Alex stopped in her tracks.

"What now?" Draco asked exasperatedly. "I want my food, woman."

She glared at him. "To feel the pain. The never ending never stopping pain that envelops you and crushes you, always, always, always spreading. Spreading. Why didn't I think of that before!" Alex shouted, throwing her hands up in the air and running back into the library.

"That's what Flint was saying?" Draco asked Blaise. Blaise nodded, but looked at Draco like he was the dumbest person he had ever met.

"I know you're a dumb blonde, but go any slower and you'll be heading backwards," Blaise scoffed. "Spreading, mate." Draco made a face. "No, get your mind out of the gutter and it is not the debate team's form of speaking. It's a magical cancer."

"Oh, fuck," Draco swore, realization hitting him. "Magical pain metastasis. Especially high incidence in those tortured with the Cruciatus curse. Why didn't I think of that? Damn it, it had to be cancer."

The two men rushed after Alex with renewed vigor, their dinner completely forgotten. They understood now that time was of the essence.

AN: Yes, I just went there. I just biologified magic. Science and magic can coexist. Take THAT. So, if you're not a bio person, and/or you don't understand neurotransmitters, enzymes, hormones, metastasis, etcetera etcetera etcetera, it's not that crucial to the story. Basically, the pain curse that is afflicting Astoria is a toughie, and it's lethal. The clock is ticking, so these three are gonna be working their butts off to fix Astoria. Will she survive? Well, that's to be seen. Other than the completely biologified last bit, how did you like the chapter? Review! Review! Review! Questions about the biology? Ask it in a review, I'll be happy to answer how it all works in my complicated mind. Flint crazy enough for you? REVIEW. To the one view in Kyrgyzstan, you're awesome! Please keep reading! To everyone else, you guys are amazing, too! I'll be giving shout outs to people in the most obscure countries, because, well, they're pretty darn awesome.

Anyone catch the Hunger Games reference? Doctor Who reference?