Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except for a couple I've added.
Author's Notes: Thanks again for the great feedback. This chapter was really tough to write, and I changed it a lot, which explains why it took a few days to be posted. I like writing characters but I'm having trouble with plot, so please kindly ignore any gaping plot holes you may notice in the rest of the story. Also, I apologise in advance for Lupin acting rather densely - I think it would be more in character for him to be suspicious, really. Warning: not a lot of laughs in this part!
This story has seven parts: 1. Harry. 2. Hermione. 3. Ron. 4. The Party. 5. The Danger. 6. The Long Night. 7. The Dawn.
Part 5: The Danger.
"Hermione - have you seen Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked.
Hermione turned from her contemplation of the way the candle reflections glimmered in the darkened surface of the pond. "Harry? No, not for a while. He was out here talking to me and Remus earlier but that must have been at least an hour ago." She peered at her watch in the flickering light. It was eleven o'clock.
"Well, I wonder where he's got to? Molly wanted to propose a toast to him and Ginny before people start leaving - it's getting late."
"Yes, we can't party all night with the wedding to brace ourselves for - shame!" said Fred, materializing next to his father.
"Shall I go and look for Harry?" Hermione offered. "He's probably in the house."
"I asked him to get something from the car at one point," Fred said, "but he didn't come back to me - I think someone must have distracted him - you know how difficult it is to escape from all these old grannies." He lowered his voice on the last few words, and looked nervously behind him as if expecting Aunt Violet to pop up.
"I'll go and find him," said Hermione.
She left them standing by the pond, and made her way through the crowded garden, quite glad of an excuse not to have to make conversation. She had found, and enjoyed talking to, a few old friends tonight, but she had never enjoyed making small-talk in a gathering full of strangers. Besides, being back at The Burrow after so long was bringing back some powerful memories, and she would be quite glad of the chance to reflect in her room at bedtime, and regroup for the next day's socializing.
Harry wasn't one of the chattering group at the top of the garden, nor was he in the sitting-room, where Mrs. Weasley was describing flower arrangements and menus for tomorrow in great detail to assembled female relatives. Hermione walked along the narrow passageway which served for a hall, looking into rooms as she passed, but there was no sign of Harry. She glanced into the kitchen, but it was empty. Thinking that he might have gone upstairs, she turned at the foot of the stairs to go up, but stopped when she saw Ron and Lupin sitting on the fourth step up, plates and glasses on the step next to them, obviously having a comfortable chat. They both looked up as Hermione appeared, and stopped talking.
"Have you seen Harry?" she asked.
Lupin shook his head. "Not since he was talking to you and me in the garden earlier." He glanced at Ron, who also shook his head.
"No - haven't seen him since I came downstairs from tucking Eliza in, and that was about an hour? three-quarters of an hour? ago at least."
"Your mum wants to do a toast for Harry and Ginny, but we can't find him," said Hermione. "I've looked all over the ground floor, I thought he might be upstairs."
"Well, we've been sitting here for a little while and he hasn't gone up past us," Lupin said. "Perhaps he's out in the yard, talking to someone? Or he's gone for a stroll? I can understand him wanting to escape from the throng for a bit - this was about the only place Ron and I could find for a quiet chat."
"Sorry - I'm interrupting you -" Hermione said, beginning to back away.
"No, don't be silly, you're not one of the people we're trying to avoid!" Lupin said, laughing. Ron, who was looking carefully at his plate and selecting a sandwich, didn't say anything. "I was just trying to get Ron to tell me a few M.L.E.S. secrets, but he's being discreet."
"Well - I'll just go and have another look for Harry - maybe I missed him, or maybe you're right and he's out in the yard," said Hermione.
Frowning slightly, she walked through the passageway into the kitchen again, passing the mirror on the mantelpiece, which said sleepily, "Lovely dress, dear, but you've got a smut on your chin." Hermione half-smiled, rubbed the dirty mark off with her finger, and went out through the kitchen door. The light from the open door streamed out into the dark yard and shone on the waiting parked cars. There was no sign of anyone out here. The hedges of the lane were rustling slightly in the night breeze, but there were no other sounds except for the party noises coming from the house and garden behind her.
Hermione walked over to Fred's old sports car, gently touching the rust patches on the bonnet and thinking about the past again. To celebrate the first time Harry played for the Hogsmeade Hurricanes, Ron had borrowed this car from Fred and driven her to watch the match. Afterwards, the three of them had all squashed into it to drive to the victory party at the Three Broomsticks, and when the party finally finished they had driven to the highest hill they could find to watch the sun rise and talk about all the things they were going to achieve...
Well, between the three of them, she thought, they had achieved quite a lot so far, and yet it hadn't worked out at all as they had planned...
A sudden flurry of feathers near her head startled her, and she jumped slightly as a brown owl swooped down and landed on the bonnet of the car next to her hand. Hermione reached out to take the folded paper it was carrying, and as soon as she had done so, the owl took off again, and swooped away into the darkness. Raising her eyebrows, Hermione unfolded the paper.
"Don't worry about me, I met an old friend and went for a walk. We've decided to go for a few drinks in the village. Don't wait up for me, I'll see you in the morning. Harry."
Hermione frowned, and read the message again.
"You haven't found him yet, then?" said a voice from the lighted doorway. Lupin had followed her, and stood there with Ron just behind him.
"Um - no. But an owl just brought this," said Hermione, walking to meet them and holding out the paper. "It's from Harry - but it seems a bit strange."
"Why?" Ron held out his hand and she gave him the paper. He also frowned when he had read it. "That's weird."
"Yes - it's not like Harry to walk out on a party your parents are giving for him and Ginny," Hermione agreed. "Still, it is his writing."
"Perhaps he just wanted a break from all the family stuff - last night of freedom and all that?" suggested Lupin. "It's been known to happen!"
"Yes," said Ron, still frowning over the note.
"Shall I go and explain to your mum?" Hermione asked. "And Ginny, of course."
"OK," Ron said absently, looking from the note to the darkened yard and back again.
Lupin and Hermione turned to go back through the house, but Ron didn't follow them. "I'm sure he'll be back in time for breakfast - a bit hungover, perhaps," Lupin said encouragingly. "After all, he says 'don't worry'."
"Yes."
Mrs. Weasley was a trifle put-out when Hermione told her about Harry's abrupt departure. However, Mr. Weasley and Fred were both inclined to smooth the matter over.
"Now Molly, the poor boy's been putting up with all these relations all evening, and he'll be seeing them all again at the wedding reception tomorrow," Mr. Weasley told her. "Let him have a few hours off."
"Surprised he didn't invite Ron to go along for the drinks too," Fred said with a grin. "That's what a best man's supposed to do, after all - get legless with the groom the night before the wedding." For this he received a look from his mother which reminded him of being fifteen again.
There was another distraction a few minutes later, when George Weasley sent an owl to say that he would be further delayed and would come down in the morning, as Percy was doing, in time for the wedding. Then the party began to break up, starting with the more elderly aunts and cousins, who decided they should go back to the various places where they were staying overnight, in order to get some sleep before the excitements of the next day. Gradually the guests drifted away, with thanks and encouraging remarks about how much they were looking forward to the wedding. Mrs. Weasley bustled off to check for the last time that all shirts were ironed, dresses hanging up, shoes cleaned and everyone's accessories sorted out ready for the morning.
Hermione and Ginny were sent out to check that all the empty glasses and plates had been collected from the garden, when everyone had gone. To Hermione's slight surprise, Ginny seemed fairly resigned to Harry's disappearance. When she had read the note, she had sighed, and then said, "I didn't think Harry was minding all the fuss *that* much - well, I suppose he's entitled to his last night of freedom. I wonder which old friend he means?"
"I've no idea," Hermione said, stacking three plates together.
"Funny he didn't say who. Anyway, I suppose it's all right, but I'll kill him if he's too bleary-eyed tomorrow morning. Or if he doesn't get back in time for breakfast!"
"That wouldn't be very like him, though," Hermione said reasonably.
"No, I know." Ginny flashed her a quick smile. "I've no real fear of being left waiting for him at the wedding!"
"Ginny! Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley was standing at the top of the garden. "We're all going to bed now. It's late, and we've got a big day tomorrow. You need your sleep Ginny, you don't want to be too tired to enjoy the day."
"All right Mum, I'm coming," Ginny called back, pulling a little face at Hermione. They trudged towards the house, carrying their trays of plates and glasses.
Half an hour later, the house was almost in darkness, as everyone settled down for the night. Mrs. Weasley had left a lamp burning in the kitchen, for Harry's return. Alone in the little room she had been given, Hermione took off her red dress and hung it up. She had washed and was just about to go to bed when she took a last look out of the little window, drawing aside the curtain as she had the night before. She looked out into the darkness, where the black sky was broken by the lumps of blacker trees and bushes, and remembered the flash of light she had seen the previous night.
"What was that?" she thought, startled again as a dark shape whirred across the sky in front of her. It looked like another owl, and it had come from the direction of the kitchen, downstairs. The owl soared away and disappeared. Was it merely flying past, or had someone downstairs just sent it off with a message? But everyone had gone to bed, hadn't they? Hermione looked from the window to her bed, deciding whether to ignore it or go and investigate. Curiosity, coupled with a faint prickling of unease, won. She pulled on trousers and a fleece, and hurried into socks and trainers. As she crept downstairs, there was no noise from any of the rooms she passed. Even the nightlight burning for Eliza in Susan and Charlie's room had gone out. But, as Hermione neared the foot of the twisting staircase, and the dim glow from the lamp in the kitchen grew slightly brighter, she heard soft noises from the kitchen, as if someone was moving about in there.
"Harry?" she whispered, pushing the door open and stepping into the room.
But it wasn't Harry, it was Ron. Like her, he was dressed in comfortable outdoor clothes, with his jacket on. He was sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, bending his head down to tie the lace of one of his boots, but as she spoke he looked up suddenly.
"No, he's not back," he replied, in the same low tones.
There was a moment's pause, before Hermione indicated his boots. "Where are you going?"
He answered her with another question. "Why are you down here?"
"I saw an owl going off - I wondered if someone was down here and had sent one," said Hermione, quietly pulling out a chair for herself and sitting down opposite him at the wooden table. "Did you?"
He nodded. "To some M.L.E.S. people."
"Oh. Work."
"Sort of." Ron bent down again to finish tying his other boot. Hermione looked at his bowed head for a moment. He was a little older, a little tougher-looking, but the long nose and long eyelashes were still the same, and the ruffled red hair, and the look of concentration - but the Ron who sat here now had seen and done a lot more than the Ron she remembered. How much had he really changed, she wondered.
"Where are you going?" she asked again.
"To look for Harry."
"You think there's something wrong?" she asked quickly. "I wondered too - it really isn't like him to go off like that - and who's he gone with?"
"I don't know. Something's wrong. He would have told us, or Ginny - not just written a note."
"I think so too. What can we do?" She leaned forward, suddenly wondering how long it had been since she had used the word "we" in connection with herself and Ron.
"I was going to check the village, then - if I can't find him - there are four agents stationed in Exeter, I've just sent a message to let them know I might need their help. Don't want to wake the house and get everyone in a panic until I know there's definitely a problem..." He trailed off.
"He could be in danger," Hermione murmured. "Goodness knows there are probably enough people out there who still have a grudge against him. But for anything to happen the night before the wedding..." She paused, as she remembered something. "Ron - I don't know if it's relevant or not, but I ought to tell you something."
"What?" He looked up at her.
"Yesterday, when I came here, I found a map of the house on the ground, out in the yard. I didn't think anything of it, but I suppose someone might have drawn it if they were planning to do something to Harry."
"Where is it?" he asked sharply.
"In my coat, I think. Hang on." She got up quickly and went out to the coat-hooks in the passageway. Feeling in her coat pocket, she felt the paper crackle, and drew it out. When she handed it to Ron, he scanned it rapidly.
"Someone could have drawn this if they were staking out the house," he muttered, frowning.
"I saw something else -" Hermione hesitated. "I saw a light in the field across the lane, last night - like a torch or a cigarette lighter, just a flash. Someone could have been watching the house - or it could have been nothing."
"Damn. I wish I'd known." Ron pushed his chair back impatiently. "I don't like this at all. I'm going down to the village to see if he's in the pub - but I'm afraid he won't be." He took the keys off the hook by the door and unlocked the door as quietly as he could. Hermione followed him as he opened the door gently and stepped out into the dark yard.
"It'll be quicker if I take Fred's car," Ron said in low tones. "The only trouble is, it's a bit noticeable - if I do run into anyone -"
"We can take mine," Hermione said in his ear.
"We?"
"You don't think I'm staying here while you go and look for Harry, do you?"
He looked at her, his expression hard to read in the darkness, and for a moment she thought he was going to argue with her, like old times, but instead he shrugged resignedly. Hermione felt in her pocket for her wand, then pulled the kitchen door softly shut and led the way to her little car. Ron folded himself into the cramped space of the passenger seat, looking uncomfortable but not complaining aloud. Hermione put a quick silence spell on the car as she started it, which meant that all sound was cut off for a few minutes. No curtains twitched or lights came on in the house as the car rolled slowly out of the gate. A hundred yards down the lane, Hermione took off the silence spell, and their ears popped as sounds returned.
They did not speak until they reached the village. The tiny main street was deserted, and the only lights came from the pub on the corner, where it was nearly closing time. Hermione followed Ron as they got out of the car and pushed open the pub's heavy door. The bar was almost deserted - a couple of elderly men - Muggles - were playing draughts in a corner, and a middle-aged man was sitting on a stool nursing a half-pint of bitter and chatting to the landlady. Hermione dimly recognised both the man and the landlady as belonging to local wizarding families. The man was the local butcher. The landlady, a cosy-looking woman, nodded to Ron as they approached. "Ron Weasley, isn't it? Haven't seen you in here in a long time. What can I get you?"
"Sorry, this is official," Ron said tersely, reaching into his pocket and producing a small black box, which he held in his palm, and a leather wallet containing his M.L.E.S. badge, which he showed them discreetly, not attracting the attention of the two Muggles. "I take it you know Harry Potter?"
"Ooh, yes, of course," said the landlady. "Saw him just yesterday, shopping with your mum, Ron."
"Then you haven't seen him tonight?" Hermione asked quickly.
"Not a sign of him - I'd remember if Harry Potter came in, all right. Here, isn't it his wedding tomorrow? Maybe he's got cold feet -" She stopped laughing when she saw their serious faces. "Here - there's nothing seriously wrong is there?"
"Dora, if the Ministry's involved there must be something wrong," put in the butcher.
"Have you seen any strangers in the last few days?" Ron asked.
"Well, of course the village has been full of visitors - for the wedding," said Dora. "I know some of them, but others I don't know from Adam -"
"Those two blokes who were in here this afternoon," put in the butcher abruptly. "There was something a bit odd about them, I thought."
"What was that?"
"Well, they didn't look like they were here to have a good time at a wedding - kept arguing - the younger one was having a right go at the other one, I heard him telling him he was useless."
Hermione and Ron exchanged puzzled looks. "Can you describe them?" Ron asked urgently.
"Yeah - um - well, the younger one, he was about your age - not as tall as you, though, Ron. Skinny, very fair hair, moustache, sort of pointy nose, didn't like his expression. Sneaky-looking bloke."
"And the other one?" said Hermione.
"Ooh, well, he was a lot taller," said Dora. "And a bit older, about forty, maybe. He was fair too - big jaw, blue eyes. Good-looking chap, but seemed a bit slow on the uptake - kept giving me the wrong money for his drinks. The younger man kept grumbling at him." She paused, frowning. "You know, the older one looked familiar - like I'd have recognised his face a few years ago. Can't place him, though."
"Thanks, you've been very helpful," said Ron. "Listen - if you see either of those men again, or Harry Potter comes in tonight, will you send me an owl straightaway?"
"'Course. No problem." Dora gave them an affable wave as they turned to leave. "Hope you find your friend soon!" she called after them, as the door closed behind them.
Out in the dark street, Hermione leaned against the car and watched Ron checking the black box in his palm before pocketing it again. "What's that?" she asked.
"M.L.E.S. lie-detector," Ron told her, opening the car door. "They were telling the truth - Harry hasn't been here."
"So where is he?" Hermione asked aloud, more to the empty air than to Ron. "We've got to find him before tomorrow." She got into the car, where Ron was already sitting with a piece of parchment on his knee, scribbling a message. "Are you sending another message to the M.L.E.S. people in Exeter?"
"Yes. I want them here as soon as possible."
"Won't they have to stop whatever job they're doing in Exeter, though?"
Ron glanced across at her. "They're not on another job, they're my squad." He paused. "I'd better tell you - the C.E.O. called me in this morning. He wanted to warn me that they'd had reports of Dark Arts activity in this part of the world. He told me to keep a look-out for anything unusual - but I wasn't expecting Harry to disappear on us. I should have been more on the alert-"
"You weren't to know what they were planning -"
"No, but - Anyway, he told me to pick a squad and keep them handy in case I needed help, and now it looks like I do. Better go back to The Burrow and send an owl with this."
"Your C.E.O. must trust you, to put you in charge," Hermione said idly, leaning her chin on the steering wheel as Ron continued writing.
He cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "Uh - actually I'm in charge of a squad all the time. I'm a Grade Three Enforcer now - that's squad leader rank."
"Really?" Hermione asked, slightly surprised. She didn't remember Harry mentioning that. "Surely that's a pretty good thing to be by the age of 26, isn't it?"
Ron shrugged, folding his finished message carefully. "Well, most of them are older, yeah."
"You must be good at your job," she said, but he didn't reply; just sat waiting for her to start the engine and drive them back to The Burrow. It was quiet in the car as they made the short journey, but a few hundred yards from the sleeping house, Ron broke the silence.
"Did those descriptions of those two men remind you of anyone?"
Hermione flicked a quick look at him. "I was wondering, yes - what did you think?"
In the reflected light from the headlights, Ron's face was very serious. "I think Harry could be in more danger than we feared."
End of Part 5. So: who were those men? And what deadly danger is Harry in? (I promise, it's pretty fiendish!) Ron's POV in the next part.