Confusions and Confessions

Chapter 11

Magical disaster-relief teams from all over the world poured into Petra, Jordan.

It sure had taken them long enough! Hermione thought grimly. Six hours had passed before the help had reached the city.

Some other Rangers had been rushed over to the scene. A Scottish Combat Ranger named Magnus Brody had assisted her while she treated the many injured people, and Ethan Johnson, a Sixth Class Intel Field Ranger from the United States had made sure that she got the things she needed to keep doing her job. With old Captain Sharif's help, after he arrived on scene, Hermione managed to save ten wizards and four goblins who otherwise would have died.

The Citadel was now occupied only by the analysts in C&C, some artificers, Galatea in the medical wing, and the non-Ranger personnel in the various divisions.

Takupai Orzaiz changed into his Animagus form and slithered through the narrow cracks to see if any more casualties remained buried beneath the rubble while other rescue wizards looked on in amazement, and to Hermione's annoyance, forgot to do their jobs! Docmor the Diligent, a half-goblin Intelligence Ranger who specialised in intrusion and curse breaking like Wortelgraaf swept the blast area with highly sensitive magic detectors to collect any leftover magical traces, before the meddlesome wizards from the various Departments of Mysteries arrived and started tainting the traces with their clumsy antics.

Heidi had once told Hermione that the United States Ministry of Magic had recently petitioned for more transparency into the operations of the Order of Illumination. Apparently, they felt threatened somehow. Other countries like India and Australia, Greece and Russia, which were very grateful to the Order for solving some major problems of theirs, spoke in their favour, and the International Confederation of Wizards turned the petition down.

She shuddered to think how the Order's spin-doctors, that's what Heidi and her crew were nicknamed, were going to deal with this one. This disaster of epic proportions would surely rock the wizarding world to its core! Not even the Death Eaters had ever come close to doing something like this, at least, to a wizarding community. There had been plenty of Muggle killings though, but this wizard didn't seem to discriminate like that.

Hermione sat down on a stone bench next to a Fifth Class Ranger she only knew by face. The markings on her grey uniform revealed her to be an Intelligence Field Operative, and the woman stuck out her gloved hand. "Aina Ndour!"

"Hermione Granger!" Hermione said, shaking her hand. "Find anything?"

The woman, with closely cropped hair, and a very dark complexion, shook her head. "Nothing that could help us. You?"

Hermione massaged her temples. "The culprit Disapparated before the team managed to get a look at him. The witnesses are too traumatised to tell us anything." She sighed. "We'll just have to wait until it pops up again, somewhere." She shuddered at the thought of finding another situation like this one.

"Tired?" Gavin Carey, also present to aid in the search for clues, asked.

"We have to catch this monster, Gavin. Seven people died, at least, that's the body count so far."

"Eight, actually." The Welsh Ranger nodded grimly. "Seemingly at random. They were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"No!" Hermione said, more fiercely than she'd actually meant to, and Gavin took a step backwards involuntarily. Hermione exhaled slowly. "These people were home! Not at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I had hoped that Voldemort would be the last monster of this kind to plague us in my lifetime. It seems we're not destined to know peace," he said sadly.

"Look, Commander Ironheart is here!" Ndour said, looking surprised. "What is he doing here?"

"I can't even remember the last time he went out on a mission. Three years ago, was it?" Gavin looked at Aina Ndour for answers.

The witch nodded. "Something like that. I wonder what he's doing here."

Hermione ran her hand through her bushy brown hair, which she wore in a hastily-done ponytail. What was he doing there?

She watched him as he accompanied another Fifth class Ranger, the distraught Nassir al-Hasan, who was a Petra native, to a trembling old wizard. Looking on as Ironheart knelt in front of the man and looked into his eyes, she suddenly realised what he what he was doing. She didn't know exactly what mind reading entailed, but from the manuscripts she'd read on the subject, she knew mind readers were able to pull images out of people's minds. The old man was a witness, and Commander Ironheart was attempting to find out who was behind it.

The Commander concentrated and looked into the eyes of the old wizard, searching for clues. This went on for a minute or so, and the sweat poured down Ironheart's forehead with the effort involved. Then he gasped and looked away, closing his eyes and getting up shakily. The look of shock wore off, and shadow fell over his face. He abruptly turned and walked away, and his voice sounded in Hermione's ear-piece. "Rangers, let's get out of here. The relief teams can handle it from here. Regroup at the Citadel. We have a maximum emergency. Code Omega!"

Hermione's gut went cold as she got up and followed Lieutenant Gaal to the Hurricane. "What does it mean?" she asked, as she caught up with him.

Gaal briskly continued to walk towards one of the exit points. "It means, that we have an emergency on a scale previously unimagined."

"Bigger than Voldemort?"

"The Commander seems to think so."

That answer gave Hermione goose bumps. If the most senior Ranger was that upset…

The twenty or so Rangers who hadn't come in the Hurricane, clustered around Port Keys and were transported to the Apparition point deep within the bowels of the Citadel, while Hermione and her team boarded the Cruiser and followed them.

Hermione wondered what the Commander had seen that had him so spooked. She dreaded the answer to that question, and she knew that whatever it was, it probably needed to be stopped dead as soon as possible.

When they touched down in the underground hangar at the Citadel, she saw that the other Cruisers were all present. She knew they hadn't been scheduled to be back, so she guessed they must have been recalled. Things must be really bad! She knew this, because she had once read through the Orders archives for some background reading, and even Voldemort hadn't merited a full recall. Or maybe the Commander was just being cautious this time around?

Flanked by Khan and Mordecai, she walked into the Briefing Amphitheatre again, finding most Rangers already present, and many more familiar faces were among them this time around. The Kelly brothers, Lilia and Mayumi were all there.

Hermione sat down in the front row, directly looking into Commander Ironheart's worried face. She realised that she had sat down amidst a whole bunch of ranking officers, and she felt distinctly uncomfortable. She started to get up, but a hand on her back gently pushed her back into her seat. Captain Irina Kovalenko, to whom the hand belonged, gave her a brief and reassuring smile. Rank was apparently of no importance at the moment.

The Commanders looked up and Hermione followed their gaze. The ceiling opened up, and down floated a golden throne very similar to the Headmaster's Chair at the teachers' table at Hogwarts, with a very old woman sitting on it. Even though Hermione had never seen her before, she knew who it was.

The throne thumped on the floor and an impregnable silence settled over the room. The old woman took a deep breath. "My Rangers...there is a darkness, greater than the one we fight. It is the darkness of a soul that has lost its way."

Hermione frowned. What was the First Ranger saying?

The old woman waved her wand and a glowing blue sphere with a diameter of about a metre came floating out of the hole in the ceiling, and ended up hovering in front of Ironheart. "Through the Orb of the First Ones, Donovan will show you...what he has seen."

Hermione gripped her seat tightly. Now they would see what they were up against!

Ironheart touched the Orb, and a flash ensued, projecting his thoughts. A hooded figure with black hair protruding from under the hood and a strange greenish outfit. It threw curses around indiscriminately, raised its head screaming triumphantly at the destruction it caused, and the hood fell back revealing messy, shoulder-length black hair. Then it turned around and looked straight at the wizard from whom these thoughts came. Framed by the mass of black hair was a thin and pale face with the coldest green eyes she'd ever seen. They were filled with pure rage and hatred, and unease settled over her being as she realised that the wizard looked very familiar. Some Rangers gasped, the Kelly brothers groaned, but mostly the Rangers just stared at the image stonily. It was obvious that they'd recognised him.

"What's going on…what is this all about?" a raspy voice cut through the quiet, and everybody looked at the entrance to the briefing room. Leaning heavily against the side of the entryway stood a thin and weak-looking, but otherwise healthy, Max Wolfe. He was dressed only in pyjamas and watching the image through narrowed eyes. A nurse hovered behind him anxiously, tugging him by the hem of his pyjama top, but Wolfe paid her no attention. Hermione's brief gladness at seeing him was shoved aside by the shock that rippled through her mind as she belatedly recognised the green-eyed wizard. It was too much for her mind to endure, and she absently saw the white marble floor rush up to meet her.

*

Hermione returned to consciousness and immediately recognised the smell of the room she was in. She slowly opened her eyes, and saw Lilia, Galatea and Serafina bending over her with concerned looks on their faces.

"Stand back ladies, give her some room to breathe," Sharif's voice sounded, and the ladies parted to let him through. He leaned in. "Hermione, do you know where you are?"

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered, as her vision blurred with tears. "It can't be Harry! It can't…he would never…he…he…" She had trouble breathing and started to hyperventilate, and Sharif flicked his wand to produce a bag she could breathe into. Galatea held it to her face until she calmed down.

"They aren't ruling out polyjuice potion but that doesn't replicate a wizard's power, and that wizard was very powerful," Lilia said sadly.

"You don't believe it's him do you?" Hermione asked hopefully, and the Rangers around her looked to the floor, as if they were trying to hide something, and Hermione caught the meaning of their body language. "I don't believe you people!" she screamed angrily.

"He can't be under the Imperius Curse. You know he can resist that," Lilia said, trying to sound reasonable.

"So you just assume that he turned evil of his own free will!" Hermione hissed viciously.

"I don't!" she heard Wolfe's raspy voice say. He coughed to clear it. "They must have done something to him. He may be possessed."

"Yes!" Hermione said quickly, looking around for Wolfe, and finding him sitting in the corner next to her bed, where he'd been out of her field of vision.

"But Ranger Wolfe…the Imperius, he can resist…" Serafina started to say before Wolfe cut her off.

"They had plenty of time to work on him and use techniques that would leave a much more lasting impression than the Imperius," he said dryly. "I don't think he's doing it out of his own free will, or that he decided to turn evil just like that. I simply refuse to believe it."

"I believe I agree with Ranger Wolfe. Harry Potter had too much strength of character to simply turn to evil easily." Sharif nodded solemnly. "However, how do we prove that?"

"We have a more immediate concern. If the press gets wind of this…then the trouble will really start, and it won't matter whether or not he was in some way altered by powerful magic," Serafina pointed out.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Sharif said, and he got up to leave. "Come on, Wolfe, ladies. Let us give Hermione some rest."

"Sir, could I stay a little longer…I'd like to talk to Ranger Granger."

Sharif managed to quirk a brief smile despite the gravity of the situation. "Well, do you have any objections, Ranger Granger?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Galatea, could you stay as well?"

The white haired witch looked surprised by the request, and she nodded mutely, waiting until Lilia, Sharif and Serafina left, and closing the door behind them.

Wolfe looked at Galatea, then at Hermione and finally at the floor. "I want to thank you for what you did for me, Ranger Gr…"

"Hermione!" she interrupted. "And no thanks are needed. I was doing what I was trained to do, you know…just doing my duty."

"Really? Galatea said you did much of it on your own time!" Wolfe said seriously, and nodded to Galatea, who blushed a little.

Hermione followed suit. "I was nothing…really!" she mumbled.

"And you, Galatea…thank you!" Wolfe said quietly.

"What for?" she asked nervously.

"For being by my side, and singing to me. I heard your songs…it was the contact I needed…you kept me from sliding further into the abyss." He straightened himself, for a moment looking impossibly like his grandfather, Hermione thought. As she thought this, Wolfe's head snapped around and he looked into her eyes. "You must be mistaken, I am no relation of Commander Ironheart's." he said, completely nonplussed.

"Oh, of course you're not." Hermione said, trying not to sound too shocked. He had inherited the gift! Oh, she had to be careful what she was thinking, but this time he didn't seem to react.

He just got up. "Well, I'll see you around, I suppose. You can come by my quarters later on, and we can talk about Harry, and how we are going to deal with this whole situation."

"Or you could come by our place!" Galatea offered, casting a peculiar glance at Hermione, that made her very uncomfortable. "We moved out of the Citadel with a bunch of girls, and we're living in a townhouse on the sixth tier. Your grandmother is staying with us. She came to visit you too!"

Wolfe's face brightened considerably, and now that the perpetual frown was gone Hermione was again reminded of Ironheart. Oh, she was thinking it again, but Wolfe failed to react this time too. "Yes," Hermione said quickly, "and she spoiled us all with her spectacular cooking."

Wolfe nodded happily. "Yes, she's a very good cook!" The frown returned. "Unfortunately, the meeting must take place in a secure location!"

"You're right!" Hermione said. "I'm sure Galatea can help us with some ideas as well. Three heads are better than two!"

"Of course." Wolfe nodded, and for the first time ever, Hermione noticed the tiniest smile on his lips, and the jealous look that came over Galatea's face when Wolfe asked Hermione to meet with him, vanished instantly.

They waited until Wolfe's footsteps had died away to start talking.

"Good Lord, he read my mind!" Hermione gasped. "I was thinking how much he looked like the Commander, in a grandfather context!"

"So that's what his reaction was all about!" Galatea said, suddenly understanding.

"But he only reacted that one time." Hermione frowned. "I couldn't help but think those thoughts a couple of times, but he didn't seem to read those."

"Well, when my emphatic abilities started surfacing, they weren't always present," Galatea said thoughtfully. "They came and went. And as far as I know, mind readers need eye-contact, or at least line of sight, to read one's mind. Or they need to be really close, say…no further than four feet."

"That could be it." Hermione nodded. "Oh dear, but we need to tell Commander Ironheart about this."

"Why?"

"Well, we have to assume that Max' ability will stabilise over time, and that he'll be able to read minds. I don't think he ought to find out about his heritage by reading one of our minds. He deserves to be told."

"Right." Galatea nodded. "We have to see the Commander as soon as possible."

A brief silence followed, and both women retreated to their own private thoughts for a while, until Hermione spoke. "Hey Galatea?"

"Hmmm?" the other woman replied absently.

"You really have to do something about your jealousy!"

"What?" Galatea frowned.

"Come on…don't play dumb with me! If looks could kill, I'd be a pile of ashes right now! I perfectly understand the look you gave me after Max only asked me to come and talk to him!"

Galatea smiled bashfully. "Oh, sorry about that."

"It's okay!" Hermione said graciously. "But you really need to get that under control. You could teach Aria Ironheart a thing or two about possessiveness!" she teased. "Seriously though, he may not fall head over heels in love with you, like you want him to. Life isn't a fairy tale. He may never kiss you, and you may never live happily ever after!" She immediately regretted her choice of words, because Galatea started to sob uncontrollably, so Hermione rose from the bed and walked over to her and gave her a hug. "I didn't mean to sound so rude, but it's true."

"But I love him, Hermione."

"Do you?" Hermione asked seriously. "Why do you love him? How can you be sure that this isn't some kind of obsession?"

Galatea wiped her tears away. "Everybody thinks that I only went out on two missions, and that I never left the ship." she began.

Hermione nodded. "But it isn't true?"

"It isn't. Two years ago, a Nundu threatened a village in Africa. Max, Caleb, Okan, Patience Gedeon and Tarana Oliseh went after it, and being a rookie and given my sensitivity to light, I was instructed to stay on the ship."

"But you didn't." Hermione saw where this was going.

"No. The problem turned out to be the Nundu finding me before I found the team. I would have been dead if Wolfe hadn't distracted the Nundu with an extremely foolish action. He ran up to it and kicked it in the teeth."

"Wait a minute, how could he get in so close? I thought a Nundu's breath killed everything near it." she said, remembering Newt Scamander's book about magical creatures.

"The artificers have created special suits that enable us to get in close," Galatea explained. "Anyway, the Nundu could have torn him apart, but he still distracted it to save my life, while I should have paid the price for my stupidity."

"Hold on…but a suit that protects you from a Nundu's breath also protects you from the sun, doesn't it?" Hermione asked, puzzled, and then she understood. "They ordered you to stay for your own safety!"

Galatea smiled sadly. "I realised that as I waited for them, them I decided to slip on a suit and prove myself. I guess they trusted me to obey, otherwise they wouldn't have left the suit lying around. The thing is…I wanted to prove myself," she said miserably.

" I understand. But falling in love with him because he saved your life? That isn't a very solid basis for a relationship…well, it isn't enough," Hermione pointed out.

"I know, I know." She sighed. "At first, when I started training, I thought he was just arrogant, but after he saved my life I made an effort to get to know him. It took nine months before he opened up to me, but he finally did. He told me about his life…oh Hermione, I was in love before I fully realised what was happening. He was just so sad, and so determined!"

"Really, I had no idea." The rumour went that Galatea had liked Wolfe for his looks, and had been after him ever since. Hermione now understood Galatea's devotion a whole lot better. She let the information sink in.

"Now you know," Galatea said sadly.

Hermione nodded. "But what are you going to do about it?"

Galatea eyed her curiously. "What do you mean?"

Hermione smirked mischievously. "How are you going to get him to notice you?"

"I've tried everything! Hermione, I know him better than anyone in the Citadel and the city…save maybe Commander Ironheart."

"Okay, you were always there for him, but Galatea, he's a man! Men…it's their cosmic duty to be dense! Men are strange beings, and Max Wolfe might just be the strangest of them all. You need to show him that he can't take you for granted. Buy an enticing dress and flirt with other blokes in front of him."

"But that would be…slutty!" Galatea said sourly.

"Of course not! You can be enticing and not be slutty. But trust me…you need to do something to get him to notice you." She sighed, remembering what she'd had to go through to get Ron to act on his feelings. With Ginny as an accomplice, she'd made sure he saw her flirting with a dozen guys…and it seemed to be working. Of course, things went wrong when Ron walked in on her and Harry in a perfectly innocent situation, but a rather visually compromising position.

~

"Hermione, we need to talk!"

What about, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking up from a book on ancient vampires. She was staring at a picture of what Hannibal Skaras presumably looked like.

"You've been behaving strangely lately," he said, his eyes narrowing to emerald slits.

Hermione swallowed. "Where's Ron?"

"In the kitchens," Harry said. "I loaned him my cloak so he could go and nick some food in the kitchens. Why? Does any of this have to do with him?"

Hermione paced around the common room and checked all the high backed chairs to make sure it was empty. Being a Prefect, she was expected to enforce the curfew, but she was rather relaxed about it, as long as no one was getting out of line too badly. "Harry, I've been trying to get Ron to notice me."

Harry burst out laughing. "You got his attention all right! But he thinks your behaviour is a result of Parvati and Lavender finally rubbing off on you."

"And you didn't?" Hermione asked sceptically.

"I'm not as blind as he is. I had my suspicions…and Ginny told me." He shrugged and grinned.

"Why you…" Hermione playfully jumped him, and Harry fell back with her on top of him, taken by surprise. That was when Ron walked in, his face still covered with whipped cream.

"I can't believe you two!" he hissed. "Going at it behind my back!"

"Shut up, Weasley!" Harry snorted. "You and I both know I don't fancy Hermione that way," he said pointedly. "You shouldn't jump to conclusions like that, mate!"

"Right," Ron said, blushing profusely, but looking unconvinced

~

Things had sort of returned to normal after that, but the damage had been done. Even when she and Ron had finally got together, a shadow came over his face whenever she got physically close to Harry for whatever reason.

"So, did the flirting thing work for you?" Galatea asked, snapping her out of it.

"Not exactly, it sort of backfired…but your situation is different! I guess I'll have to come up with a better plan," Hermione said confidently. "Now, all we need is a plan that suits Max' personality. So we have to ask ourselves, what do we know about him?"

"Um, he never had a girlfriend."

"He didn't? Wait, you're right!" Hermione slapped her forehead. How could she have overlooked Wolfe's childhood? That was the problem…he didn't know how to react to his emotions! "Okay, this isn't going to be easy. And we should put operation Wolfe on hold anyway. There are more pressing matters."

"Operation Wolfe…how exiting!" Galatea shivered, gleefully rubbing her hands together.

Hermione raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Calm down woman…you could use a cold shower."

Galatea composed herself. "You're right, I must stay calm!"

"Better!" Hermione nodded, as the young woman settled down. "Now, if you don't mind, I need my rest. If I don't look rested in the morning, they'll keep me here even longer!"

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Bring me a fresh uniform!" Hermione nodded.

"I will! Goodnight Hermione."

"Sweet dreams, Galatea!" Hermione grinned, and Galatea turned crimson.

*

A gentle hand shaking her shoulder woke Hermione up the next morning.

"Rise and shine."

Hermione opened her eyes and saw Galatea sitting next to her. "What time is it?" she asked, yawing.

"Nearly noon."

"Hmmm…I'm starving." Hermione said.

"We'll have lunch after you take a shower."

"Did you bring my uniform?"

"Yes, and I brought some your shower things as well," she said, holding up a little bag.

"Thanks." Hermione yawned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Where was Crookshanks?" she asked. She knew her pet was very territorial, and would fiercely guard her room while she was away. "He likes you well enough, but I can't believe he'd just let you into my room."

"He was sort of busy with Annabelle," Galatea giggled, turning slightly red.

Hermione laughed. Annabelle was Heidi's Nibelunge cat, and she knew Crookshanks was interested in her. "I see." She grabbed the tiny little bag Galatea had been holding up. "So, Doctor Angelou…am I discharged?"

After Galatea gave her a quick check-up and declared her healthy, Hermione took a shower, and as the two women were on their way to the mess hall, Galatea told Hermione that she'd have a couple of days off. Hermione was glad, since she could really use the time off. They passed the Physical Training Hall and saw Max fight a black golem, while Bill Quist, Nathan Kelly and Khan watched.

Hermione too stopped to watch, and saw that was Max wearing a sleeveless martial arts uniform. Hermione assessed that he looked very good in it…and to her secret embarrassment, her heart rate quickened a bit as she saw him spar with the lethal magically animated golem. She really hoped she wasn't blushing, because her face definitely felt warm…but she quickly pushed those thoughts away. There was nothing wrong with just looking…was there? It wasn't as if she was betraying Galatea in any way…

She remembered her training with golems too, but those had been white golems, used by beginners. There were also blue golems, green golems and red golems, each colour more difficult and dangerous to fight. The black golems had been charmed to be supernaturally strong and fast, and to Hermione's knowledge only three Rangers could use them for training: Khan, Quist and Max.

Hermione winced as she saw the golem's foot connect with his chest…something she found very strange. Max didn't seem to be as fast as he usually was. She really started to worry as the golem hit him with a rapid succession of punches and blood started to ooze from his mouth.

"Enough. End training sequence!" Khan bellowed, and the golem went slack immediately.

"Why did you do that? I could have taken it!" Max growled angrily. "I…I…" He dropped to his knees and coughed up some blood, and before Hermione fully understood that she was moving, her legs were carrying her towards him. Her knees buckled as she crossed a glowing white line. She realised the gravity must have been increased somewhat within the glowing white line.

"Ranger Khan, please remove the gravity spell."

"By authority of Sahid Khan, Ranger Fourth Class," Khan said, before muttering the appropriate spells, and Hermione felt the gravity return to normal as the lines stopped glowing. She knew that only a few Rangers had the clearance to start certain training methods, including the increase of gravity, and the magical crystal with the memories of a long-gone gym master only acknowledged the voices of those Rangers. That crystal functioned like the orb of the First Rangers, and several of these crystals were spread over the base. The library had a crystal containing the memories of a librarian, for example.

"Normal gravity has been restored, Ranger Khan," a projection of an old female Ranger said. "Will there be anything else?"

Hermione kneeled beside Max, only to be shoved away so forcefully she skidded ten feet away. "Don't…touch me!" Then he looked at Khan angrily. "I could have taken the golem!"

"I doubt it," Khan said coolly.

Angry at being shoved away so rudely while trying to help, Hermione got to her feet and drew her wand. "You woke up from a coma yesterday! To say that you're out of shape would be an understatement. You shouldn't have been in here to begin with…you should've been resting…and you certainly shouldn't have been fighting a black golem under increased gravity. What in the bloody blazes are you trying to prove? Now you'll get your sorry bum back to the hospital right now, before I stun you and haul you down there myself!"

Max glowered at her, but in her anger Hermione wasn't the least bit impressed. She couldn't care less about the fact that he could probably still disarm her and grind her into tiny pieces.

"Granger is right," Khan said calmly. "Report to the medical wing. I don't want to see you in here until they've fixed you up, and I want to start a slow build up to your previous level."

"But…"

"Is that understood, Ranger?" Khan added menacingly.

Max nodded. "Understood…sir!" he said, with extreme reluctance.

Khan frowned. "Quist…make sure he gets there!"

"There's no need for that. Galatea and I will take it from here. Right?" Hermione asked, looking at Galatea, who was giving Max a withering look.

Galatea nodded.

Max got up and started walking out of the Hall, leaving Hermione and Galatea to give chase. They caught up with him outside, and Galatea exploded. "What were you doing in there, Max?"

"Training."

"You shouldn't be training yet," Galatea hissed. "Magic can't fix all the effects of a coma. We have only partially restored your body, but you're still not fit. Why didn't you listen to me?"

"I needed to get ready," he replied tersely.

"For what?" Hermione asked.

Max didn't answer. Instead he just marched towards the medical wing.

Galatea slowed down and gestured to Hermione to do the same. After Max was a good twenty feet away, she whispered, "Hermione, could you please fix him up? I have to see someone."

"Who?"

Galatea sighed. "Someone who might be able to talk some sense into him."

"Commander Ironheart?"

Galatea nodded.

"All right." Hermione nodded and then hurried to catch up to Max.

Hermione led Max to an examining room. "Get on the table," she barked. Her anger over his pushing himself too hard too soon was resurfacing.

"I'm fine," He barked back.

"So you always cough up blood!" Hermione snapped sarcastically. "Listen, in here you don't outrank me. Don't be such a baby…co-operate."

Max obviously wasn't happy with the comparison to an infant, but his jaw snapped shut and he sat on the table, removing his vest, and Hermione couldn't help but gasp as she saw the bruised mess beneath it. He had a couple of broken ribs…at least, and obviously he had some damage to his lungs. She wondered how and why he was still conscious, and as she looked at his face, she only saw the mask of control he'd always worn.

She sighed and put on a pair of examination goggles. These goggles could detect internal injuries, and made it much easier for the mediwizard or witch to treat the patient. A diagnostic spell told a mediwizard what was wrong, but with the help of these goggles, the treating wizard could actually see the injury, and Hermione knew that visualisation helped a lot when casting charms. In fact, the inability to see the injury was what made the treatment of internal damage so difficult.

As she'd suspected, he had five broken ribs and some damage to his lungs. She fixed the ribs first, and then the lungs, and to her satisfaction she saw his lungs opening up smoothly once more as they drew in air. "Is anything else bothering you?" she asked clinically, still looking for injuries through the goggles.

"My joints are a bit stiff."

"Well, what did you expect. You've been in a coma for a couple of months. If you'd been a Muggle, you'd still be flat on your back in bed, and it would take weeks, if not months of physical therapy for you to become your old self again," Hermione explained.

"Fix it. I know there are spells that can do that."

Hermione shook her head. "Sorry. We can't pour too much magic into you. You'll have to recover the old fashioned way."

"Can't you at least fix my wrists…they're bothering me a lot."

Hermione sighed. "I really shouldn't…it would serve you right for being such a stubborn prat! She took his left hand first, and pointed her wand at his wrist, muttering an incantation. "How does it feel?" she asked, after finishing.

"Better." He said, as he rotated his wrist.

She took his other hand and repeated the process. Then she noticed that his knuckles didn't look well, having a few tiny fractures. She absently ran her fingers over his knuckles. "When did this happ…?" she started to ask, but as she looked up she saw that his heart was beating wildly. "Are you all right?" she asked worriedly. Maybe all the healing magic was having side effects.

"I'm uh…fine…why, is there something wrong?" he asked shyly.

Confused, Hermione let go of his hand, and immediately his heart started beating more slowly. She noted his strange reaction and grabbed his hand again, and his heart speeded up once more. The realisation hit her like a collapsible cauldron, and she quickly let go of his hand. "You're fine," she said quickly, taking off the goggles. "No more strenuous exercise for at least a week. Well, off you go!" she said, trying to push him out of the examination room.

"Are you sure?" he asked, resisting her efforts. "What about my hand?"

"What about it?"

"Well, I thought something was wrong with it."

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's just fine," she said, damning herself for the blush she felt creeping on her cheeks. "Why would anything be wrong?"

A concerned look appeared on Max's. "Maybe I should call Tea. You're all flushed and twitchy. Are you sure you recovered from yesterday's ordeal?"

"No!" Hermione snapped. "I'm fine. You don't have to call…Tea?" She wondered how long he'd been calling Galatea by a pet name, and why she was so annoyed by it. She wasn't jealous. She couldn't be! She was Hermione Granger, and Max was just a rude, messed up bloke who didn't know what was good for him! She did not like him. How could she? She hardly knew him. She would not join the ranks of the witches who swooned every time he walked into a room!

Max' cheeks flushed, like they had when Nathan and Gavin set him up, in September. Hermione thought it was kind of cute before she could stop herself from thinking it. "Yeah, that's what I call Galatea."

"So do you like her…Galatea?" Hermione inquired. She was slightly ashamed of this because it was none of her business, but she realised this could well be her only chance to have a normal conversation with Max. Besides, it shifted the topic away from her.

Max looked at the floor. "I don't know."

"You don't know? What do you mean by that?" Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Of course you like her."

Max nodded. "You're right. She means a lot to me. She's always been there for me…and she got me out of the coma."

"She had help, you know!" Hermione said, feeling slightly annoyed for some reason she couldn't fathom. She couldn't believe Galatea had taken all the credit for that.

"Oh, she didn't take all the credit," Max said absently. "She told me you're the one who improved that restorative potion that got me out of the coma."

Hermione paled. It had happened again. Was it her place to tell him this? It had been mentioned at the dinner table with the Weasleys, and every Ranger now knew that Max was Commander Ironheart's grandson. The secret was out anyway…but maybe Ironheart wanted to tell Max himself. No…there wasn't any point in waiting. With his powers out of control, he could read her mind at any time, and that was no way for him to find out either!

She gathered her courage. "Max…I didn't say that out loud."

"What?" Max gave her a puzzled look.

"That bit about Galatea taking all the credit. I didn't say that out loud. You read my thoughts…or at least, you heard them…or sensed them, I'm not sure."

"What are you talking about?" He frowned.

"You can read minds, Max."

Max' eyes widened. "You mean, like Commander Ironheart?"

Hermione nodded. "In fact…you've inherited the gift from him. Remember yesterday…when I made that comment about how much you looked like him? Well, I hadn't been saying that out loud either. Max, he's your grandfather…your father's father. He told us when he heard what had happened to you. "

Max leaned on the table heavily, and Hermione saw that he no longer wore that mask of control. He had this confused, sad look on his face. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"I'm sure he had his reasons," Hermione said quickly.

"Yeah, he had his reasons all right," Max said bitterly. "I'm the indirect result of one of his past indiscretions."

"That is not true!" Hermione said vehemently. "He's very proud of you. He told me so!"

"Did he?" Max frowned.

"Well, not in so many words, but I could tell!" she reassured him as she threw her arm around his shoulder.

"Is everything all right?"

Hermione turned around and saw Commander Ironheart stand in the doorway.

"Commander…" Hermione started to salute, but he waved it off.

Instead, he locked eyes with his grandson, and Max gasped. They looked at each other for a full five minutes…and Hermione wondered what was going on. Were they communicating telepathically? She considered herself extremely lucky. She was pretty sure she was the first witch to see two mind readers communicating with each other.

It ended when Max let go of the examining table and engulfed his grandfather in a bone-crushing hug. Both men had tears in their eyes, and Hermione felt like reaching for a hanky too.

Ironheart wiped away his tears with his sleeve and smiled. "Well, my first act as a grandfather will be to advise you to take it easy. Go visit your grandmother…I can't believe you haven't done so already, you haven't seen her in a while."

Max' stomach rumbled. "Think she'll fix me lunch?"

"You can count on it." Ironheart smiled.

***