The Final Countdown – Fatal Games
By Shadow Dragon
Ron paced with a considerable amount of frustration in the waiting room in Werner's Emergency Center for Bad Injuries and Boo-Boos. Magazines (Witch Weekly, The Mystery of Muggles, and International Wizarding Club) were stacked high on a small table nearby, but Ron was too worked up to even look through them. Normally, he would have picked up Witch Weekly just to laugh at it, but worry for Ginny and Timmy clouded his mind. Indeed, he could not force himself to sit still in one of the cushioned chairs waiting in the room for him.
"My word, Ron, you look as though your wife is about to have a baby!" somebody remarked.
"I don't have a – " Ron got out before he realized that he was not alone in the room. He turned slowly and stared, before an expression of disbelief came across his features. "You're never gonna leave me alone, are you?"
Hermione blinked levelly back at him and suddenly grinned. "Nope. I'm pretty much here every step of the way."
"Then why did you let them take Timmy?" Ron groaned out, exasperated. He leapt over a chair to get to her quicker. "Why?" He reached out to grab her arm angrily, but she pulled away.
"There was nothing I could do, Ron. Not a thing. Timmy's safe, I can tell you that. He's okay. They won't hurt him. They're after somebody else."
"Who?" Ron asked tersely.
"Alicia. Ally. The second project." Hermione glanced away, but Ron could only stare at her, wondering about what she was talking about.
It took Ron a minute to digest this information before he could ask, "Project?" He blinked several times, but restrained himself from grabbing her arm. "What project? And what's the first project?"
Hermione shook her head. "I can't tell you."
Ron swelled up in anger, his eyes bulging out of his head and the temper that he had tried to control after school slowly becoming unraveled. He pushed his face up close and said very harshly, "You can't tell me? Well, guess what! I'm getting tired of playing this game! My sister is in the emergency room, perhaps one heartbeat away from death and you CAN'T TELL ME!?"
In his anger, he reached out to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, rage flowing through his blood, fueled by the pent up worry he had held for Ginny and Timmy both. And such was his rage that he almost didn't notice when his fingers passed right through her.
"RON!"
Ron turned to see Ginny standing in the door, looking shocked. Of course, if Ron had not been so angry, he would have seen what the picture looked like, his face a mere two inches from Hermione's and his hands on (through, though he was still too angry to notice) her shoulders. And then he would have known why Ginny looked so shocked. She hobbled up to him slowly, her face showing very slight scars on the right side and arm held protectively over her right set of ribs. Then she stopped, eyes growing wider. "Hermione? What the…"
It was at this moment in time when Ron noticed that his hands had passed completely through Hermione's shoulders and he pulled back, startled and shocked. Hermione looked from one to the other, considerably paler than she had been. "Ginny. It's good to see you again…"
"What are you?" Ginny asked, backing away slowly.
"This? I'm using projection magic. If you can see me, then you were meant to. It's tricky magic, it is. Only shows me to the people who need to see me." Hermione looked nervously at her childhood friend. "Don't tell anybody. But I have to help you two out. It's not about finding my enemies anymore. Several things have fallen out of hand and had grown into weeds."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Project X. He's been stolen, obviously. And Project Z is in danger." Hermione said this slowly and carefully.
"Project X? That's Timmy," Ginny told Ron with a sure tone. She had picked up on the act quickly and was defter in finding an answer than he would ever be. From the shy little girl she had been, she had grown into a beautiful young woman, buoyant and sophisticated, very discreet and good at reading body language. Now she gave Hermione a leveled look. "Why?"
"I can't tell you," Hermione repeated firmly. "If I were to tell you…you don't know who is listening. They just know Timmy is important. He holds something…something that could destroy the world. And if I were to tell you what that thing is and how to find it completely…you realize that you had a weapon in your hands, Ron? That's why I needed you to find me – that weapon will not be deactivated until a certain person is revealed. And to find me, you have to reveal that certain person!"
Before either Ron or Ginny could say anything more, she disappeared completely from view, watching with mournful eyes as Ron lunged for her one last time.
"What was that about?" Ginny asked.
"Timmy continued to go on about angels and fairies. Hermione was the angel. The fairy wants him dead. Therefore the fairy wants to destroy the weapon…" Ron muttered to himself. He started pacing. "That must mean that the fairy isn't actually evil, but stupid…"
"That's the trait of any Slytherin, right there, that is," Ginny muttered, but Ron wasn't paying any attention.
"And that means…"
"RON! Pause!" Ginny finally said, grabbing his arm to stop his annoying pacing. "First, start from the beginning. Where did she disappear from?"
"A laboratory. She worked with…uh…" Ron paused for a moment. "Benson!" This was followed by a long string of incoherent words as Ron dug through his pocket and removed a piece of paper that read:
Arnold Benson
4218 H
Falcon Courts North
New Jersey
Underneath that writing, there was a map, which Ron studied very closely before shutting it. "We pay this Benson guy a visit and see what he knows. He ought to know something about this whole thing…"
* * *
"Eight ball, corner pocket," Jani remarked with an air of self-assurance as she sauntered around the pool table. Her partner in the game scowled, but let up, leaning slightly on the long, thin pool stick. As Jani bent low over the table, there was a loud, annoying screeching and Jani threw off her coat in surprise. However, she never let go of the pool cue, so it knocked the white ball so that drifted and tapped the black eight ball, sending it two inches from the pocket. The beeping stopped and then Harry's voice came loudly.
"Jani? Where the heck are you, girl?"
"My name is not girl," Jani replied darkly, "and I am playing pool with a friend."
"Pool? Isn't it a bit cold outside?" Harry's voice was genuinely puzzled.
"No, pool the game, you half-wit," Jani told him, rolling her eyes.
"Whatever, but get to Lance's pronto!" And then there was a loud screech, which ended the communication and then Jani pulled the other arm into her jacket so that it didn't hang limply from her right arm anymore.
"I'm supposed to be on vacation right now," Jani grumbled. "He needs to learn to ask politely."
"Could be worse," her partner remarked, drawing a string of brown hair out of her eyes. She grinned, her straight teeth shining white.
"This is all your fault," Jani muttered, annoyed, before not only she, but the eight ball, disappeared.
* * *
"This is the place, I'm sure," Ron told Ginny as they finished jogging up the sidewalk, staring at the crumbling base housing at the American air force base. The house was on the end of a long line of houses, all brick with drab green siding. A small patch of yard (mostly sidewalk), with a few scraggly bushes lined the area. "Hide your wand. These are muggles that we're dealing with."
Ginny was still in her khaki slacks and light blue T-shirt (she'd magicked all of the blood off of it), but Ron had donned a pair of slightly faded jeans, work boots, and a white T-shirt. He looked more like a steel worker than a researcher, so he had mussed his hair to make himself look more believable. It was Ginny who rang the doorbell.
"What do you think he'll look like?" Ron asked while they waited for somebody to answer the door.
"Old, angry, I don't know. He's American. I'm English. I wouldn't know!" Ginny said, shrugging.
Just then, the door crept open and a man not much older than Ron peered out. "Yes?" he asked curiously. He was a lot shorter than Ginny, but he was thinly agile, with a full mop of almost black hair and piercing brown eyes. A drab green military jumpsuit suited his form, with "Benson" in bold blue letters on his left pocket.
"Hello, Mr. Benson, this is Ron and I'm Ginny. We're doing a little research about a missing person. Could we ask you some questions?"
The man gave Ginny a wide-eyed look, but nodded and gestured wordlessly for them to enter. Both entered to find a dining room and living room combined, with off-white walls and simple blue curtains. A blue couch, slightly faded, sat along one wall, opposite of a muggle television set, which was sitting on a small table. A flat box sat on top of that, with a plastic cartridge sticking out. Next to the couch, a lamp sat on a table, cheerily burning despite the daylight outside. "Anything I can get you? A Coke? Tea, perhaps?" Mr. Benson asked, looking slightly nervous. Both Ginny and Ron sat on the couch, but
"We're fine," Ginny said before Ron could say he wanted some tea. "We'll hurry with our questions, so we don't take up too much of your afternoon."
"That's okay, take up as much time as you wish. Maggie should be getting home from school soon," Mr. Benson glanced towards the windows next to the television. "She'll like having company. Especially with your accents."
"Mr. Benson, we're looking for Dr. Hermione Granger. Have you heard of her?" Ron began immediately. "We believe she worked with on cracking a case involving Projects X and Z and DNA."
Mr. Benson paled up to his hairline and looked at them with an odd expression on his face. "How did you know about that? It shouldn't have been on the news…they can't get me…"
"Mr. Benson, calm down," Ginny said, tossing an alarmed look at Ron. "We just want to know some facts."
Mr. Benson was looking at them with a queer expression on his face now. "Dr. Granger was my father's closest confidante. She was in his will when he died…"
"Your father, sir?" Ron asked when Mr. Benson paused.
"Yes, my father was the one involved in the experiments. His name was Arnold James Benson, Sr. I'm Arnold James Benson, Jr." Mr. Benson paused and wet his lips. "He died in a fire. They said it wasn't arson, but I knew it was. Dr. Granger warned me that they would come for me. She gave me Maggie and I joined the air force and got moved to here." He glanced about. "Not quite up to the ritzy mansion father and I used to live in, but it's cozy."
"Maggie, sir?" Ginny asked, looking slightly puzzled. "Who's Maggie?"
"Maggie. My father's main project. There was another little boy, but I never knew his name. Dr. Granger said that two of you, redheads, were going to show up to take Maggie one day. Are you?" Mr. Benson looked weary as he said this, and Ron and Ginny exchanged looks. "I can't take care of her anymore. She's…too wild…"
"Too wild?" this was surprised question from both Ginny and Ron. They exchanged looks, but Mr. Benson didn't see because he had gotten up and was now pacing.
"It's not a sense of wildness…not really," he told them in a bemused voice. "She's supposedly only four years old…"
At this point, he was interrupted as the form of a thirteen-year-old girl walked in, looking confused. Mr. Benson jumped back from the blonde girl, his eyes widening in shock. "Maggie!" he gasped. "You're…thirteen!"
"No," the girl, Maggie, replied. "I'm four." She grinned mysteriously and then suddenly, it was the short form of a four-year-old standing there. Ron's eyes bugged out and he stood up.
"Ginny," he said, staring at the girl. "If Timmy was Project X, she's gotta be project Z!" At the mention of Timmy's name, the girl's head swung around and she stared back at Ron, suddenly pale. She had silvery blonde hair and dark, intelligent eyes, with a thin frame, and broad shoulders.
"She knows about Timmy," Ginny told Ron in a hushed voice. She changed to her voice to a soothing tone and said, "Hello, Maggie. I'm Ginny Weasely and this is my brother, Ron Weasely."
"I know who you are. You're related to Timmy and you're looking for him because he's gone missing, aren't you?" Maggie asked shrewdly, four-year-old eyes narrowing.
"How do you know about Timmy?" Ron asked. Mr. Benson was sitting down now, his forehead on his palm, ignoring everybody else. Maggie glanced at him once, seemed to shrug, and turned towards Ginny and Ron again.
"I know things I'm not supposed to," she said, and it was a fifteen-year-old girl standing in front of them now. "Society hates me. I'm too weird. But I know. I know what they think, and I know everything that Timmy knows."
"How?" was Ginny's only question. Maggie peered at her for a moment and blinked. Suddenly, the four-year-old, silvery-blonde girl was there again, looking terribly frightened.
"The angel visits me and she helps me," Maggie told her.
"The angel is Hermione," Ron explained. "Do you know where Timmy is?"
"No. I cannot reach him. It's dark there, and cold. And he hates it. There are mean people…very mean people." And suddenly, Maggie had burrowed into Ginny's lap and was hiding her head.
* * *
"Victim 23," and somebody was shaking him gently. "Victim 23…" The man known simply as Victim 23 moaned loudly and turned over, trying to ignore the wake-up call. However, the person shaking him was not about to let up.
"What?" he finally asked crankily.
"Your meal is here."
"Then leave it on my bedside table and be gone."
"Yes, sir." And there was the sound of something being set down and then footsteps walking away. Victim 23 turned, realizing thankfully that the mental straps they'd had on him were gone, and looked questioningly at the meal. It was not some sort of substandard hospital meal as he had suspected, but an actual baked potato, piping hot, steak, with a few greenbeans and carrots staked around the sides, a can of simple muggle Pepsi, and a plate of Black Forest Cheesecake. Sitting beside the cheesecake was a little blue container that looked like it held butter. He picked that up first. Instead of opening to reveal butter, a small folded piece of paper fell out.
With trembling hands, he picked it up and read over it.
"Victim 23,
For fear that this message will be intercepted, I will not leave my name.
Hidden under your steak is a card that will have a false identity. Hide this under yourself. It will come in handy tonight in the eight minutes between the guard switches. Hidden under the potato is a watch that will let you know when guards approach and when they switch duties. When they switch will be your time to escape. Hidden under the cake plate is a map of the facility. Use these all to your best advantage and good luck.
Nameless."
"There's an angel watching over me," he whispered to himself as he picked up the card for a "Hopkins, Robert". He quickly place this in the folds of his T-shirt behind his back. "After three days of being festooned in this place, I'm finally getting out," he thought as he hid the map and the watch. Four hours until he was able to escape, with a false identity and a new hope…
* * *
"This is the lab that burned down," Harry told Lance and Jani as they all struggled up a hill in the brisk California morning air. There was a dilapidating building at the direct top of the hill, glimmering slightly in the sunlight. "The muggles kept the remains for a police site, so we'll be fine looking through it."
"If you say so," Jani said, her wand out despite all of this. "I don't trust the air here."
Lance had his laptop strapped to his back. Now, he took a moment to pause and sniff the air. "Yep, there's trouble."
On the heels of his last word, a blast of red shot out narrowly missing Jani. "Oh, no, you don't," she growled and nobody in particular and shot a green blast back. "Everybody duck!" she shouted belatedly, and Harry and Lance hit the ground hard, wands out. Jani, however, stood tall, glaring. "They're after me, I know they are. Harry, Lance, you try the back way, I'm gonna pull them this way."
And she took off, sprinting and leaving them behind.
"That girl," Lance snarled. "She's gonna get herself killed."
"She's more than a girl and calling her one is a man's biggest folly," Harry muttered as they crawled across the hill. "She knows how to protect herself, never you worry."
"I don't trust it, there's something wrong with her if they want to suddenly shoot her," Lance muttered back.
"DEATH EATERS!" Jani screamed, running suddenly into view. "Four of them! I saw them just before…before they disappeared!" She looked absolutely angry, and her eyes blazed with fury.
"Voldemort's gone, though," Harry mused. "Why would Death Eaters attack us at place like this?" He looked troubled.
"POTTER!" The voice came from his pocket. Harry hurriedly pulled out a small square device that was blaring words out. "GET YOUR $%@$ $!# BACK AT BASE AND DRAG PETERSON WITH YOU!" There was a beep and Harry tucked the device into his pocket, looking slightly annoyed.
"What'd we do now?" Lance moaned.
* * *
A/N: You made it! Yay! Now you get to write a review! Isn't that just swell? No school today, ice day, you know, so I figured, what a great time to post this! So what does everybody think? Favorite character NOW? I'm interested in your opinions. And what does everything think of Maggie and her….interesting abilities? Who do you think Victim 23 is? Leave a review for me!!!