Disclaimer- Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers not
me! Isenguard belongs to Tolkien and I don't know how many other people!
*
Chapter 2- Inteview
*
Ron crumpled up the hateful mission briefing and tossed it to the floor, instantly thinking better of it and picking it up and flattening it out.
"What's the matter boss? You've been moody ever since we left?" Asked Mark Rees.
"Nothing. I just don't like sailing." Ron snapped back, which was partially true for the rocking motion of the boat they were on was making Ron feel ever so slightly ill.
Mark, whose muggle father had been a sailor laughed, "Don't worry Ron. You'll get used to it."
Kate Silvers who looked very green said, "It' easy for you to say your Dad is a sailor!"
"What difference does that make?" Mark asked.
"Sailing comes naturally to you! It's in your blood!" Jane Freeman laughed.
"Well I don't see you suffering much either!" Ron remarked.
"No. I guess the rock, rock; rock of the boat doesn't effect me" She grinned.
"And this is your first time on a boat Janie," Kenneth (Ken) Green asked, he too was a pale shade of green.
"Yep. And I love it! The rock, rock, rock, rock, rock, rock.."
"Shut Up!"
*
Ron glared up at the unwelcoming castle that loomed in front of him. He had sent the rest of the team to visit the homes of the missing people who lived in the town. Most of them did.
The Isenguard Station was not what you would call a friendly looking castle. It was made out of a shiny black rock which Ron had never seen before. Its many towers rose up to pierce the gathering storm clouds like daggers stabbing their enemies.
The wind roared around him sending icy rain to sting his eyes and frost to bite his skin. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the low rumble of thunder.
"I am definitely NOT going to enjoy my stay here!" He muttered.
* Ron found himself in a large but homely office. He hadn't thought it was possible for an office to be homely but here he was sitting in such a place. There was a roaring fire in the grate. He sat on a comfy couch that was adorned with many cushions. A tea tray had been set down on a large oak desk behind which in a rocking chair sat a merry, plump old man.
"The weather is exceptionally bad here at this time of year!" Jacob de Winter said, "You must be chilled to the bone."
"I am yes. Ron admitted.
"It's such terrible goings on. I've lost some of my best people. I hope you will be able to find them Mr Weasley."
Ron found himself liking the old man. He was grandfatherly and had a similar twinkle in his grey eyes as Albus Dumbledore had had in his blue eyes. "My team and I will do our best."
"That's what I like to hear!"
Ron sat and chatted to him while he drank a welcome cup of tea. Almost forgetting why he was there. Jacob de Winter obviously realised that they were going off the point for he said,
"I suppose you'll want to question the staff?"
"Yes. Can you give me a list? And how shall I say this, point me in the direction of loyalties and firenships, love affairs etc?"
"I am afraid young man that I not the best person to ask. I find hard to keep up with the comings and goings of this castle now-a-days. I am getting old and therefore do only a fraction of what I used to. You better see the Secondary Director. Her name's Hermione Granger, cleverest witch I've ever known."
"Ditto." Ron thought. He was intrigued by the warmth in the old mans voice when he spoke of Hermione.
"Where can I find her?" Ron asked. Why oh why did it have to be her? A single interview he could have managed but it looked like Hermione was Jacob de Winter's spokesperson. He would have to consult her!
"She lives in one of the tower flats, the most northerly. No doubt she'll be up there she works late on every working day except for today- Wednesday. It's easy enough to find. Just go back to the main hall, and go across the courtyard to the North Entrance. There are some labs there but the only staircase leads up to her front door. "
"Thankyou," Ron said getting up to leave. He walked towards the door then turned,
"How is Hermione these days?" He asked, instantly wishing he hadn't.
"You know her?"
"Yes, we were best friends at Hogwarts, if dare I say it, a little more." Ron admitted.
"Ahh, I see, so no doubt you'll be terrified of seeing her again?" Jacob De Winter said knowingly.
"Yes, then again I was always terrified of her. Scary girl, brilliant but scary!"
*
After crossing the courtyard all the homeliness of Jacob de Winter's flat was forgotten.
"The tower flat?" Ron muttered disbelievingly. The most Northerly tower was one of the highest and had a foreboding, unsolicited look about it, giving Ron the image of Hermione in long flowing white robes, hair that fell from her window to the ground and with large unhappy eyes pleading with him: a princess locked away from the world.
The reality was very different.
Knock, Knock.
No answer.
Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock.
"Hang on Eilonwy! I won't be a moment!" Hermione's clear confident voice sounded. Knock, Knock. Ron was getting impatient and his nerves did nothing to help. The door opened to reveal a flustered Hermione, quite the opposite of what Ron had imagined.
"I'm sorry Eilon.." She trailed off looking up into his face in utter disbelief.
He had practised what he would do next, "Commander Weasley, I'm here to investigate the disappearances, Mr de Winter sent me to you."
He flinched as an expression of hurt, and then anger passed over her oh so lovely face. She still had all the charm that had attracted him to her in the first place and yet even more.
Her wild ringlets had been cut shorter than they ever had been during her school day s and lay just past her elegant shoulders. This had the effect of her hair not being so bushy and her curls more glossy. Her skin was smooth and slightly tanned. Her eyes were the only thing that had not changed at all, they were still a deep dark unreachable brown and still held that spark of intelligence and curiosity. They still had the power to root him to the spot, even when angry.
"He did? Well then, you better come in." She replied icily. Her tone bored Ron to his heart, so cold so distant. It was more like the one she had used with Draco Malfoy than ever with him.
"Thank you." He replied trying to inject the same coldness into his own voice but somehow he could not and concentrated instead on making his expression haughty.
She led him through to a room with an orangey red suite and long thick red curtains. A fire blazed in the hearth and a large yellow mass of fur lay in front of it on a bright rug. There were a few pieces of oak furniture, a coffee table, a bookcase and a mantelpiece.
The large yellow mass of fur got up and went to Hermione's feet. It was a Golden Retriever. What about Crookshanks? Surely he wouldn't share his mistress with a dog?
"Please sit," She said: all frosty politeness.
"Thank you, Miss Granger." He replied sitting, a feeling of intense gloominess falling on him, what had happened to them? What had he done? They couldn't even be friendly anymore. He was lost in despair and it was all he could do to remember why he was there. "Is it possible to have a list of your staff?" He asked.
"Yes," She said and with a wave of her wand (still the same one: eleven inches, unicorn hair, willow he would never forget that) a roll of parchment appeared. "This will suffice, will it not? It has a list of everyone who works here, in alphabetical order and details of their position are also included."
He took the parchment from her, daring for a second to look into those eyes which had once enchanted him. He saw with surprise not the aloof person he was speaking to, but confusion, an unsteady flow of emotion. So she was still human. But had hurt her, she wouldn't forget that.
"And can you tell me something off the people who have gone missing, starting with Henry Baskable?" He asked, "Who did he associate with?"
"Henry was very distant. No one was really surprised when he went missing. He was working on my project. He did the work and only spoke when it was relevant to the work. He seemed very unhappy." She replied plainly.
"Tellsa Gertman?"
"She was very friendly with Jacob, Me de Winter that is. She wasn't a researcher. She came in to help the house elves every other day and spent her afternoons with Mr de Winter, reading to him. His eyesight is not as good as it once was. I liked her." Ron saw a stab of pain attack Hermione; this was hurting her as much as him turning up at her door.
"Polly Hercubs?
"I didn't know here very well. She was one of the potions group. Krystal Wakely, Tim Jennings, Kevin Morland," She paused, "Draco Malfoy."
Ron looked up from his notepad in disbelief. "But he.."
"He got out of Azkaban. It's amazing what a little money can do even now." She said bitterly.
Knock, knock.
The dog who had been lying at Hermione's feet, got up and bounded towards the door.
"Will you excuse me for a moment?" Hermione asked, not waiting for his reply before going to answer the door.
"Eilonwy! You're late!" Hermione said, her voice was friendly though to this Eilonwy. He felt a stab of jealousy. She had new friends now.
An elf was lead into the room. Ron blinked with surprise. An elf? But they don't usually live in human dwellings?
"This is Commander Weasley; he's here to investigate the disappearances," Hermione said, saying his name with a dislike that stung him.
"Eilonwy of Herolia," The elf said shaking his hand, obviously realising that Hermione wasn't happy about him being there and speaking just as icily as Hermione. Now that wasn't fair!
"Would you mind taking Pippin out for his walk alone? I have to answer the commander's questions?" Hermione asked her friend.
"Of course." The elf replied.
When Eilonwy had gone Ron continued.
"What about Jack Ravendale?"
* And so the questions went on. Hermione answered them with increasing difficulty. How dare he? Come in here and act all business like, treat her just like another person who had to interview?
Well two could play at that game. She was deliberately as unfriendly, impersonal, and spoke with her best professional coldness, an art that she had learned over the years.
When Pippin had gone, she felt alone and insecure. She regretted more than ever Jacob making her his second in command. She was glad when her cat, who usually slept during the day, came down from his hiding place in her library at the top of her flat and came to be petted.
Crookshanks stopped however when he recognised the scent of the other person in the room and trotted across to him instead. TRAITOR! Hermione thought.
She noticed Ron's business man approach falter slightly with affection for the cat. How dare he? She was fuming, confused and hurt all at the same time. Why hadn't she realised that the auror might turn out to be HIM?
"Chris Montage?" He asked her, his tone even.
"Chris was one of my friends. Very clever man related vaguely to the late Professor Dumbledore. His wife Anna works here too. She's very upset. Chris only ever worked on alchemy, and has made some startling discoveries. If you wanted to find out more you'd have to ask Anna."
"Thank you. Finally is there room in the castle for me and my team to stay? With an operations room if possible?"
Hermione frowned, she wasn't sure if there was room. At least there was but the rooms weren't furnished. She had been considering doing something about that. "How many of you are there?" She asked.
"Five: including me." He replied.
"If you would be kind enough to wait a moment, I will consult with the House elves."
"Of course."
Hermione exited from her living room, going further up the staircase, bypassing the kitchen floor and the one with her bedroom and bathroom on it to her library room. This was her favourite room. It had all the original oak furniture that had been made when the castle was fist built at the time of Arthur and Merlin. There was a large table on which various papers and her magically enhanced lap top lay. The window had no curtains but wooden shutters and there were several skilfully made chairs around the table. The walls were lines with shelves of books and underneath the table was a beautifully made chest with cultic patterns carved into it.
Hermione went to a space on the wall where a large mirror with a frame of silver flowers and images of wood nymphs, fairies and stars.
"I would like to talk to Gertha the House elf." She said.
Almost instantly the face of an eager house elf appeared in the mirror.
"Hello Dr. Granger what can Gertha be doing for you?" She squeaked.
"You know the west wing?" Hermione asked.
"Yes Miss." "Would it be possible to make five bedrooms in it and one larger room with a table, five chairs, shelves etc?" Hermione asked, realising she was asking for a lot. "With our magic miss?" "Yes of course Gertha." Hermione said smiling. "Yes Miss! I'll have it done as soon as possible!" "Thank you." * When Hermione returned she said, "Your rooms will be ready in a few hours."
"Thank you, where will they be?" Ron asked.
"In the West Wing. You may wait down in the common room till the rooms are ready. It's through the first door on your left in the Entrance hall, up the little stair case. I'll see that one of the house elves fetches you when the rooms are ready."
Ron feeling exhausted with the effort it took to remain distant around Hermione, was it possible that he still loved her? He said, a little weakly, "Thank you, you've been very helpful."
Hermione showed him to the door, with stiff dignity. When he walked down the stairs he felt salty tears in his eyes. * When he had gone Hermione felt despair as never before. How could he be so heartless? Couldn't he have let one of his team members interview her? She sat down heavily on the couch: and cried her heart out. * AN- Ok so I'm sorry it was so long and slightly depressing which was probably because I was listening to the Les Miserables show tune highlights when I wrote it. I got a little carried away! Please review!
Ron crumpled up the hateful mission briefing and tossed it to the floor, instantly thinking better of it and picking it up and flattening it out.
"What's the matter boss? You've been moody ever since we left?" Asked Mark Rees.
"Nothing. I just don't like sailing." Ron snapped back, which was partially true for the rocking motion of the boat they were on was making Ron feel ever so slightly ill.
Mark, whose muggle father had been a sailor laughed, "Don't worry Ron. You'll get used to it."
Kate Silvers who looked very green said, "It' easy for you to say your Dad is a sailor!"
"What difference does that make?" Mark asked.
"Sailing comes naturally to you! It's in your blood!" Jane Freeman laughed.
"Well I don't see you suffering much either!" Ron remarked.
"No. I guess the rock, rock; rock of the boat doesn't effect me" She grinned.
"And this is your first time on a boat Janie," Kenneth (Ken) Green asked, he too was a pale shade of green.
"Yep. And I love it! The rock, rock, rock, rock, rock, rock.."
"Shut Up!"
*
Ron glared up at the unwelcoming castle that loomed in front of him. He had sent the rest of the team to visit the homes of the missing people who lived in the town. Most of them did.
The Isenguard Station was not what you would call a friendly looking castle. It was made out of a shiny black rock which Ron had never seen before. Its many towers rose up to pierce the gathering storm clouds like daggers stabbing their enemies.
The wind roared around him sending icy rain to sting his eyes and frost to bite his skin. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the low rumble of thunder.
"I am definitely NOT going to enjoy my stay here!" He muttered.
* Ron found himself in a large but homely office. He hadn't thought it was possible for an office to be homely but here he was sitting in such a place. There was a roaring fire in the grate. He sat on a comfy couch that was adorned with many cushions. A tea tray had been set down on a large oak desk behind which in a rocking chair sat a merry, plump old man.
"The weather is exceptionally bad here at this time of year!" Jacob de Winter said, "You must be chilled to the bone."
"I am yes. Ron admitted.
"It's such terrible goings on. I've lost some of my best people. I hope you will be able to find them Mr Weasley."
Ron found himself liking the old man. He was grandfatherly and had a similar twinkle in his grey eyes as Albus Dumbledore had had in his blue eyes. "My team and I will do our best."
"That's what I like to hear!"
Ron sat and chatted to him while he drank a welcome cup of tea. Almost forgetting why he was there. Jacob de Winter obviously realised that they were going off the point for he said,
"I suppose you'll want to question the staff?"
"Yes. Can you give me a list? And how shall I say this, point me in the direction of loyalties and firenships, love affairs etc?"
"I am afraid young man that I not the best person to ask. I find hard to keep up with the comings and goings of this castle now-a-days. I am getting old and therefore do only a fraction of what I used to. You better see the Secondary Director. Her name's Hermione Granger, cleverest witch I've ever known."
"Ditto." Ron thought. He was intrigued by the warmth in the old mans voice when he spoke of Hermione.
"Where can I find her?" Ron asked. Why oh why did it have to be her? A single interview he could have managed but it looked like Hermione was Jacob de Winter's spokesperson. He would have to consult her!
"She lives in one of the tower flats, the most northerly. No doubt she'll be up there she works late on every working day except for today- Wednesday. It's easy enough to find. Just go back to the main hall, and go across the courtyard to the North Entrance. There are some labs there but the only staircase leads up to her front door. "
"Thankyou," Ron said getting up to leave. He walked towards the door then turned,
"How is Hermione these days?" He asked, instantly wishing he hadn't.
"You know her?"
"Yes, we were best friends at Hogwarts, if dare I say it, a little more." Ron admitted.
"Ahh, I see, so no doubt you'll be terrified of seeing her again?" Jacob De Winter said knowingly.
"Yes, then again I was always terrified of her. Scary girl, brilliant but scary!"
*
After crossing the courtyard all the homeliness of Jacob de Winter's flat was forgotten.
"The tower flat?" Ron muttered disbelievingly. The most Northerly tower was one of the highest and had a foreboding, unsolicited look about it, giving Ron the image of Hermione in long flowing white robes, hair that fell from her window to the ground and with large unhappy eyes pleading with him: a princess locked away from the world.
The reality was very different.
Knock, Knock.
No answer.
Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock.
"Hang on Eilonwy! I won't be a moment!" Hermione's clear confident voice sounded. Knock, Knock. Ron was getting impatient and his nerves did nothing to help. The door opened to reveal a flustered Hermione, quite the opposite of what Ron had imagined.
"I'm sorry Eilon.." She trailed off looking up into his face in utter disbelief.
He had practised what he would do next, "Commander Weasley, I'm here to investigate the disappearances, Mr de Winter sent me to you."
He flinched as an expression of hurt, and then anger passed over her oh so lovely face. She still had all the charm that had attracted him to her in the first place and yet even more.
Her wild ringlets had been cut shorter than they ever had been during her school day s and lay just past her elegant shoulders. This had the effect of her hair not being so bushy and her curls more glossy. Her skin was smooth and slightly tanned. Her eyes were the only thing that had not changed at all, they were still a deep dark unreachable brown and still held that spark of intelligence and curiosity. They still had the power to root him to the spot, even when angry.
"He did? Well then, you better come in." She replied icily. Her tone bored Ron to his heart, so cold so distant. It was more like the one she had used with Draco Malfoy than ever with him.
"Thank you." He replied trying to inject the same coldness into his own voice but somehow he could not and concentrated instead on making his expression haughty.
She led him through to a room with an orangey red suite and long thick red curtains. A fire blazed in the hearth and a large yellow mass of fur lay in front of it on a bright rug. There were a few pieces of oak furniture, a coffee table, a bookcase and a mantelpiece.
The large yellow mass of fur got up and went to Hermione's feet. It was a Golden Retriever. What about Crookshanks? Surely he wouldn't share his mistress with a dog?
"Please sit," She said: all frosty politeness.
"Thank you, Miss Granger." He replied sitting, a feeling of intense gloominess falling on him, what had happened to them? What had he done? They couldn't even be friendly anymore. He was lost in despair and it was all he could do to remember why he was there. "Is it possible to have a list of your staff?" He asked.
"Yes," She said and with a wave of her wand (still the same one: eleven inches, unicorn hair, willow he would never forget that) a roll of parchment appeared. "This will suffice, will it not? It has a list of everyone who works here, in alphabetical order and details of their position are also included."
He took the parchment from her, daring for a second to look into those eyes which had once enchanted him. He saw with surprise not the aloof person he was speaking to, but confusion, an unsteady flow of emotion. So she was still human. But had hurt her, she wouldn't forget that.
"And can you tell me something off the people who have gone missing, starting with Henry Baskable?" He asked, "Who did he associate with?"
"Henry was very distant. No one was really surprised when he went missing. He was working on my project. He did the work and only spoke when it was relevant to the work. He seemed very unhappy." She replied plainly.
"Tellsa Gertman?"
"She was very friendly with Jacob, Me de Winter that is. She wasn't a researcher. She came in to help the house elves every other day and spent her afternoons with Mr de Winter, reading to him. His eyesight is not as good as it once was. I liked her." Ron saw a stab of pain attack Hermione; this was hurting her as much as him turning up at her door.
"Polly Hercubs?
"I didn't know here very well. She was one of the potions group. Krystal Wakely, Tim Jennings, Kevin Morland," She paused, "Draco Malfoy."
Ron looked up from his notepad in disbelief. "But he.."
"He got out of Azkaban. It's amazing what a little money can do even now." She said bitterly.
Knock, knock.
The dog who had been lying at Hermione's feet, got up and bounded towards the door.
"Will you excuse me for a moment?" Hermione asked, not waiting for his reply before going to answer the door.
"Eilonwy! You're late!" Hermione said, her voice was friendly though to this Eilonwy. He felt a stab of jealousy. She had new friends now.
An elf was lead into the room. Ron blinked with surprise. An elf? But they don't usually live in human dwellings?
"This is Commander Weasley; he's here to investigate the disappearances," Hermione said, saying his name with a dislike that stung him.
"Eilonwy of Herolia," The elf said shaking his hand, obviously realising that Hermione wasn't happy about him being there and speaking just as icily as Hermione. Now that wasn't fair!
"Would you mind taking Pippin out for his walk alone? I have to answer the commander's questions?" Hermione asked her friend.
"Of course." The elf replied.
When Eilonwy had gone Ron continued.
"What about Jack Ravendale?"
* And so the questions went on. Hermione answered them with increasing difficulty. How dare he? Come in here and act all business like, treat her just like another person who had to interview?
Well two could play at that game. She was deliberately as unfriendly, impersonal, and spoke with her best professional coldness, an art that she had learned over the years.
When Pippin had gone, she felt alone and insecure. She regretted more than ever Jacob making her his second in command. She was glad when her cat, who usually slept during the day, came down from his hiding place in her library at the top of her flat and came to be petted.
Crookshanks stopped however when he recognised the scent of the other person in the room and trotted across to him instead. TRAITOR! Hermione thought.
She noticed Ron's business man approach falter slightly with affection for the cat. How dare he? She was fuming, confused and hurt all at the same time. Why hadn't she realised that the auror might turn out to be HIM?
"Chris Montage?" He asked her, his tone even.
"Chris was one of my friends. Very clever man related vaguely to the late Professor Dumbledore. His wife Anna works here too. She's very upset. Chris only ever worked on alchemy, and has made some startling discoveries. If you wanted to find out more you'd have to ask Anna."
"Thank you. Finally is there room in the castle for me and my team to stay? With an operations room if possible?"
Hermione frowned, she wasn't sure if there was room. At least there was but the rooms weren't furnished. She had been considering doing something about that. "How many of you are there?" She asked.
"Five: including me." He replied.
"If you would be kind enough to wait a moment, I will consult with the House elves."
"Of course."
Hermione exited from her living room, going further up the staircase, bypassing the kitchen floor and the one with her bedroom and bathroom on it to her library room. This was her favourite room. It had all the original oak furniture that had been made when the castle was fist built at the time of Arthur and Merlin. There was a large table on which various papers and her magically enhanced lap top lay. The window had no curtains but wooden shutters and there were several skilfully made chairs around the table. The walls were lines with shelves of books and underneath the table was a beautifully made chest with cultic patterns carved into it.
Hermione went to a space on the wall where a large mirror with a frame of silver flowers and images of wood nymphs, fairies and stars.
"I would like to talk to Gertha the House elf." She said.
Almost instantly the face of an eager house elf appeared in the mirror.
"Hello Dr. Granger what can Gertha be doing for you?" She squeaked.
"You know the west wing?" Hermione asked.
"Yes Miss." "Would it be possible to make five bedrooms in it and one larger room with a table, five chairs, shelves etc?" Hermione asked, realising she was asking for a lot. "With our magic miss?" "Yes of course Gertha." Hermione said smiling. "Yes Miss! I'll have it done as soon as possible!" "Thank you." * When Hermione returned she said, "Your rooms will be ready in a few hours."
"Thank you, where will they be?" Ron asked.
"In the West Wing. You may wait down in the common room till the rooms are ready. It's through the first door on your left in the Entrance hall, up the little stair case. I'll see that one of the house elves fetches you when the rooms are ready."
Ron feeling exhausted with the effort it took to remain distant around Hermione, was it possible that he still loved her? He said, a little weakly, "Thank you, you've been very helpful."
Hermione showed him to the door, with stiff dignity. When he walked down the stairs he felt salty tears in his eyes. * When he had gone Hermione felt despair as never before. How could he be so heartless? Couldn't he have let one of his team members interview her? She sat down heavily on the couch: and cried her heart out. * AN- Ok so I'm sorry it was so long and slightly depressing which was probably because I was listening to the Les Miserables show tune highlights when I wrote it. I got a little carried away! Please review!