Disclaimer: Monty Python alert! :-p

Corruption Exposed

Chapter 16

Harry huddled closer to his small fire. It was a bit chilly in Australia, that time of year. He heard the cries of a Bunyip in a nearby creek and grimaced. Its presence kept wizards away, and Harry knew he'd be fine as long as the creature didn't try to chase him out of its territory. If it did, he'd have to kill it with the aid of his wand, likely alerting the Order of Illumination.

He'd Apparated to the northern regions of the continent every day nearly for two months, hunting down vampires in the search for information about the whereabouts of Athanasios Anastasiou.

He smirked. He owed the Rangers of Illumination for his success so far. They had taught him how to survive in the wilderness with minimal use of magic. They had taught him the habits of vampires, making it easier for him to find them. And it was mainly thanks to the Order of Illumination's Intelligence archives that he'd known Omar Saleh's whereabouts in the first place.

A gratified smile spread over his face. Typical…for a Death Eater to believe that he could bargain his freedom and life with a bit of information. Saleh no longer had any of the notes on Voldemort's transformation rituals…the ones Harry needed to gain the additional power to ensure that he'd successfully get his revenge. But in his pathetic attempt to save his own wretched life, the fool had revealed whom he'd given the notes to.

Harry ran his hand across his jaw. What would a vampire want with Voldemort's transformation rituals? Did he want to achieve immortality instead of the half-life he had? As far as he knew, it wasn't possible to free a vampire from his half-life…except by putting it out of his misery. He shook his head. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had to find Anastasiou and get those notes.

Unfortunately, he had to be very careful, for the entire wizarding world now knew that he was alive, and people were keeping their eyes open. Invisibility had never been an option. It bled off too much magical energy, and few wizards ever mastered it. Besides, a wand had to be used in the process of turning oneself invisible, and the Rangers would immediately find him if he used his wand. Activating his Confundus Amulet wouldn't work either, because while it jammed all magical detection artefacts, the Rangers had charmed them to serve as homing beacons to their Orbital Eyes, and they'd find him immediately. He didn't know enough about Artificing to break the homing charm. He deemed it unlikely that anyone but the Artificer Rangers knew how to do that, because the security charms were too complex. Sure…Harry could overpower the charms easily, but he'd likely end up destroying the amulet if he did.

His mind wandered to the attacks on April 3rd. Even though the Rangers had been smart enough to realise that he wasn't affiliated with the culprits, many people thought he was in league with them. He'd overheard two Australian wizards talking about it when he'd stalked into Never Never, a small Australian wizarding settlement, a couple of nights ago to get some old newspapers. After all, lying low in the Australian outback didn't exactly help one keep up with the happenings in the outside world. He'd wanted to go into the settlement much sooner, but he'd decided against it. It would have been too soon after the attacks. However, as anticipated, security had slackened enough after six weeks to allow him to slip quickly in and out of the village under the cover of darkness…another thing he'd learned from his Ranger training.

He was losing patience though, and he knew he was running out of time. The longer he waited, the slimmer his chances of success would be. If he couldn't find Anastasiou, he needed to find a way to attract Anastasiou's attention. A sudden drop in the Australian vampire population would probably accomplish that, since Anastasiou fancied himself an overlord of sorts, and would come to his minions' defence, sending a team of vampiric hunters to investigate. It might also attract the attention of the Order of Illumination, but that was just a chance Harry was going to have to take. He had to hope that they wouldn't make the connection to him. If they did, he could always relocate.

He threw away the bone of the roasted kangaroo he'd had for dinner. The nights were getting longer, giving the resident vampires more prowling time. Little did they know that they were now the prey. It was time to go hunting!

*

The caress of summer sunlight streaming through the balcony door of her room gently coaxed Hermione to consciousness. She smiled happily as she felt Ron's body heat against her back, his breath lightly tickling the back of her neck, his arm draped across her body protectively. Who knew that making up could be this much fun every single time? She smiled. Maybe that was the reason for Ron's insensitive behaviour…wanting to provoke a fight only to make up afterwards.

She'd been under a lot of stress the previous week. Harry was nowhere to be found…and the rift that had formed between the Rangers over the Harry issue had grown even deeper. And when she'd come home after her haircut, Ron's remark about her looking like a badly trimmed poodle had been too much to bear. A vicious fight ensued, followed by a session of passionate making up in her bed. She'd probably have to endure a lot of teasing in the following hours, because she'd forgot to do a silencing charm around her room.

On the brighter side of things, at least Galatea had forgiven her. Hermione hadn't revealed Max's true feelings for Galatea, but she'd explained the kissing situation to her. To her great relief, Gudrun Njallsdottir, one of the few Rangers who wasn't afraid to risk igniting Max's wrath, had backed up her claim, having overheard most of the fight that had taken place in the mess hall about a month ago. Lilia and Gavin Carey had then followed her lead, and Galatea hadn't had any choice but to believe them. She'd still been a bit cool towards Hermione, but that had been more due to her disappointment at Hermione not having told her about it immediately, rather than jealousy.

Max had also let Hermione off the hook. She blushed shamefully. He'd manipulated them all like puppets. He'd known that Hermione would go to Galatea, and he'd known what Galatea's reaction would be like. Galatea now refused to speak to him, being extremely angry with him for wanting Hermione and the others to keep his deception a secret…and that had been his aim all along. Hermione had never guessed he could be this sneaky and manipulative. He'd always seemed so straightforward and honest. Then again, his great-grandfather and mentor had been a Slytherin. Maybe Max had inherited some of his traits as well.

Still, despite her anger at having been manipulated, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Nobody was talking to him now, and though he seemed perfectly happy about this, Hermione knew him well enough to know that it had to be affecting him deep down. She bit her lip. He'd been doing so well…but after he'd got that blasted diary, he'd started to withdraw into himself again. It made Hermione wonder what had been written in that little green book. She was glad that he'd decided to share the secret about his sister with her…but she needed him to talk to her more. She was all he had now, because it sure seemed like Galatea was finally fed up with his antics. She'd even gone out on a date with a young mediwizard who worked at the Concordian House of Healing. But there was nothing she could do for their relationship now. Max had succeeded in driving Galatea away. She couldn't talk to Max because he'd volunteered to go on mission after mission in the past month, and all the information she got from the teams he'd been with was always the same. Brooding and withdrawn…reading the diary.

"What are you thinking about?" Ron mumbled.

Hermione tensed. Should she tell him? She spent a lot of time thinking and worrying about her brooding friend, like she'd spent a lot of time worrying about Harry at Hogwarts.

"Oh, you're thinking about Wolfe," Ron said, sounding remarkably indifferent. "I don't mind…just as long as you think about me more," he chuckled.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and turned so she could face him and gave him her most seductive smile. "Let me show you what I've been thinking about." Once more she forgot all about doing a silencing charm.

*

"Oooooh, Ron…oooh, yes!" Hermione's Icelandic housemate immediately began to tease as they walked out of Hermione's room, and Lilia sniggered. Hermione flushed red, and Ron's face went purple.

"So, you two sure went for a wild ride, didn't you?" Lilia winked. "Giving the broomstick some exercise, eh Ron?"

"You two are just jealous!" Hermione smiled, having got over her initial embarrassment. "Come on, Ron. You'll be late for your training."

Ron had proven himself to be an able duellist in the war against Voldemort. He'd once explained to Hermione that to him, duelling was like chess, the main difference being that you were the piece on the board. They'd trained together quite a lot, and Ron became better and better. In the end, he'd proven himself to be better than many Death Eaters. Hermione wasn't sure, but she had a feeling that Ron was being evaluated for a spot in the Order. Even though he'd been no match for Max, he was better than Hermione when it came to duelling. She wasn't bad in a fight, but it wasn't really her strong point either. She was sure she'd be able to hold her own in a mission, but she'd never be able to face the overwhelming odds that the Combat Rangers often faced…and beat.

They had a quick bite to eat in the mess hall, before going down to Training Hall, where about half a dozen Rangers were working out. To her surprise, she saw Commander Ironheart standing on the sidelines, and he beckoned them over.

Hermione saluted. "Commander."

"Granger," Ironheart said, returning her salute, before extending his hand to Ron. "Welcome to the Citadel, Mr Weasley. So good to finally meet you in person…I've been trying to get hold of you to have a little chat, but I kept missing you. It wasn't that urgent anyway."

Ron frowned. "Really? What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, Ranger Da Silva brought your chess playing skills to my attention. I was wondering if you'd be interested in training with some Intelligence Rangers. If you can broaden the tactical insight you display in chess to suit real life situations, there might be a spot for you here in the Order."

Hermione smiled. She'd been right!

Ron's jaw fell open. "You're joking?"

Ironheart shook his head. "Had I been joking, I would have said, 'A unicorn walks into a bar and the bartender asks, why the long face'."

"Me…a Ranger?" Ron asked, incredulous.

Ironheart shrugged. "Ranger Khan told me that with a lot of hard work, you could be a decent duellist. However, we have a shortage of tacticians in Intel. You seem to have a natural aptitude for tactical thinking…but it takes a lot more than a natural aptitude. You need to develop insight into other people's minds…find out what motivated them to do what they did…what they will do next. I've heard that isn't your strongest point …but if you can overcome that barrier, your skills would be very useful."

Ron seemed to be thinking it over. "I dunno. I don't imagine I could spend too much time in a Command Centre with a bunch of Analysts telling me how daft I am…" He smiled at Hermione.

"That won't be necessary. You could be employed in the field. Many of our tacticians happen to be hopeless in a close fight. Well, hopeless is the wrong word, but I can safely say that you're already a better fighter than most of them. Would you consider joining Captain Kovalenko for evaluation? Be warned though! A tactician's job isn't easy. You have to absorb all the information gathered by field agents and interpreted by analysts, and plan your actions accordingly. It's a very responsible task. You may not be in as much physical danger as our Combat Rangers often are…but their lives will be in your hands. The better you anticipate your opponents, the less danger the other Rangers will be in."

"I understand." Ron nodded. "I don't think I'm ready to make this decision yet. But I'd like to see if I have what it takes to be a tactician. Even if I don't, I'll probably learn a thing or two for Auror training. I've been thinking of trying out there."

Hermione frowned. This was news to her. "Ron…I didn't know you wanted to become an Auror."

"I did, "Ron paused briefly, to reflect on memories that are both happy and painful to him. "Harry and I used to talk about either playing Quidditch, or becoming Aurors. He trained as an Auror, but back then I wanted to be as far away from him as possible." Ron smiled ruefully. "I'm not Oliver Wood, so I knew professional Quidditch would have to remain a boyhood dream of mine…so I did the next best thing. I studied dragons. Lots of action there!"

"So can I tell Captain Kovalenko to expect you?" Ironheart asked.

"Of course!" Ron said, beaming. "Just say when."

"I'll let you know." Ironheart nodded, and glanced at his magical wristwatch. "Well, I've got to run. I have to take over in C&C in five minutes."

Hermione beamed at Ron after Ironheart had hurried off. "Oh, Ron! This is so exciting…" she stopped as she noticed Ron's troubled expression. "What is it?"

Ron sighed. "I was just thinking…you, Harry and me all being Rangers. Then I remembered that Harry's pretty much marked for death…unless we manage to find some evidence that he's being controlled." His eyes filled up with tears a muscle near his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth. "You know…even if we do get him off the hook for those killings…his life will still be over. He'll never be trusted again. Makes me think…"

"He'd be better off dead?" Hermione said, feeling as miserable as Ron was looking. "Yeah, that crossed my mind too." she said wearily. "At least there haven't been any more killings, and Harry's been lying low. Who knows…maybe he's already come to his senses."

"If that's true, then he must be feeling awful right now," Ron groaned. "I just…I just wish that I hadn't been such a prat to him. I don't want him to die thinking that his family hates him."

Hermione just nodded, and engulfed Ron in a hug. "We'll get through this."

"It'll be tough."

"I know. But we've been through a lot of hard times. We have to stick together."

Ron gave a small nod and mumbled. "I don't know how I've managed for so long without you. I've missed you so much."

Hermione looked into his eyes. "You're here, I'm here. The missing part is over." She examined the face of a large clock the adorned the corridor. "Come on…we'll be late for our weapons briefing."

A bit later…deep in the bowels of the Citadel, they met up with Gudrun, who'd be instructing them in the use of some weapons. She was soon joined by Helga, who was carrying a pair of capsules the size of large apples.

"These are Curse Capsules," the large woman said. "Making them is tricky, but that's not what you're here to learn. You've only got to know how to use them. They're quite easy to use!"

"First shalt thou take out thy wand, and place the Curse of thy choice into the sacred capsule….say, the Reductor. Then, shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shalt be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, nor either count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Curse Capsule towards thy foe, who, being naughty in thy sight, shall snuff it," Gudrun said with a steely gaze. "Any questions?"

Ron sniggered. "Nay, none."

"Good, then we'll proceed to the next weapon." Helga said, as she led Ron and Hermione into a vault where the rarest and most powerful weapons were stored. One of the lockers in the vault had been opened, showing three objects that shone with a bright light.

"These…are our Dementor slayers," Helga said, eyeing three things that looked like glass broadswords with awe and respect. "We didn't forge these. As far as we know, they already existed when the Order was formed. We only know how to work them, but no Artificer has figured out how to forge such a sword."

The awe inspired by the three shining weapons was contagious, and Hermione found herself staring at them open-mouthed. Next to her, Ron was wearing a very similar expression.

"As far as we can tell, these are the only things that can destroy Dementors and Lethifolds…besides cornering them with several Patronus Charms long enough. Each weapon houses an extremely powerful Patronus. Unfortunately, the weapons seem to be sentient. They can't be wielded by just anybody. They won't be touched by Ranger Quist, for example."

"Great…a snooty glass sword," Ron grunted.

Gudrun chuckled at his remark, but Helga gave him an admonishing look. "I'm sure there is a reason for that!"

"Yeah…well let us know when you work it out," Ron said, and looked at Gudrun. "So what other fancy weapons do you keep down here?"

"You'll find out at the crossbow range," The Icelandic witch said.

"Crossbow range?" Ron exclaimed. "You people don't lack any resources, do you? How is all this stuff paid for?"

"We can't discuss that just yet. All we can tell you is that we are partly financed by the Magical Ministries."

"Partly?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded. "I assure you, the funds don't come out of thin air, but we don't know the specifics. You'll have to ask the Rangers who handle the finances if you want to know the exact details. But I doubt they'll tell you very much until you're formally a member of the Order."

"They must have some confidence in me, though. I reckon thy wouldn't let me in here if they didn't."

"Good observation, Mr Weasley. I thought you said he was dense…Hermione," Gudrun teased.

Hermione scowled. Gudrun wasn't supposed to reveal that she discussed Ron's shortcomings behind his back. She looked at Ron apologetically.

He gave her an indulgent smile. "It's okay. I wasn't born yesterday, you know? I know that women discuss our shortcomings behind our backs."

"Really? My Nathan is clueless." Helga laughed. "He thinks he's God's gift to womankind."

"I thought his brother was the egotistical one," Hermione said. She knew Nathan to be the quieter of the fraternal twins.

Helga nodded. "Oh, he is. Matt thinks that he is a God when it comes to 'scoring with the Sheilas!'" She added the last part in a sarcastic tone.

"Wait a minute...they're brothers?" Ron blurted out, completely baffled. "Impossible. How could I have missed it?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. How could Ron have missed it indeed? "Honestly…didn't you ask? I mean, they're both tall and Australian…and they share the same surname."

"Well, at first I did ponder the possibility that they were brothers, but then we started talking about Quidditch, and when I heard that Nathan's a Woolongong Warriors fan and Matt supports the Thundelarra Thunderers, I ruled out any possibility of their being related. I mean, the enmity between those teams is legendary!"

"I guess you were right after all, Hermione. He is rather dense!" Gudrun laughed.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "Honestly, Ron…only you could relate family ties to Quidditch."

"Well, I didn't think it was such an unreasonable assumption," Ron muttered under his breath.

*

They got to practice with some crossbows, including a large and dangerous looking one that Gudrun had affectionately nicknamed 'The Fecalator'. Apparently, she'd once made a dark wizard shit his pants, merely by pointing the weapon at him. Another spectacular weapon had been a strange sort of throwing blade…the Spinning Slayer, or Spinner for short…something that was best described as a crossing between a boomerang and a throwing blade, and it had especially fascinated Ron. It was excellent for decapitating vampires, but is was very difficult to use without injuring yourself. Hermione had once seen Max practice with one.

After practice, Ron and Hermione accompanied the two artificers to the hangar where the Cruisers were parked and underwent maintenance. A Cruiser had just touched down as they walked in, and several weary looking Rangers were disembarking. Max was among them, and he was looking terrible. He was wrapped in bandages and seemed to be limping a little. Hermione's anger was shunted aside by worry and she hurried over to him. "What happened to you?"

"Manticore," Gaal, who appeared behind him, tersely replied.

"You're a mess!"

Despite his injuries, Max managed a cocky smile. "You should see the Manticore."

He limped away and Lieutenant Gaal shook his head. "Foolish kid's taking insane risks…taking on that beast by himself. Like he doesn't give a damn about life."

"Where did you encounter that Manticore, Lieutenant?" Hermione asked.

"We got a report that Tetsuo Yamato's been spotted near his former home."

"One of the people who got freed from Azkaban?" Ron gasped.

"The same!" Gaal said darkly. "He's the most brilliant magical artefacts inventor I've ever met…smarter than I am. We apprenticed under the same teacher, before I joined the Order." The Hungarian heaved a sigh. "He'd always had this fascination for necromancy. That Manticore wasn't a live one, but a resurrected beast with all sorts of magical implants and additions. He added some sort of acid dispenser to the tail, enchanted steel claws to the front paws…" He dug into his pocket and took out a transparent pouch which contained something that looked like a magical eye. "And it had this as a visual aid. Looks like Tetsuo's up to his old tricks again."

Hermione shuddered. This sounded like it could be trouble. She knew that Horatiu Chivu was a gifted Divinator, and that Maximov had a gift with trolls…much like Quirrel had had. And then there was Lucius Malfoy…the mere thought of him bringing a bitter taste to her mouth.

"Something is brewing, but the troublemakers never stay in one place long enough for us to deal with them." Gaal sighed.

His frustration was contagious, because Hermione too felt like kicking something. "Can't we turn the tables on them? Set a trap?"

Ron shook his head. "That isn't a bad idea, but for it to work we'd have to know what their agenda is. We have to know what kind of bait to use…" He held his breath as he seemed to realise something. "And…I think that's exactly what Wolfe is doing!" He looked at Gaal. "I assume you've had plenty of contact with the enemy, and that some of them got away."

Gaal nodded.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione frowned.

"Think about it," Ron explained. "You told me that Anastasiou is his family's personal enemy. Haven't you wondered why Wolfe's been volunteering for all these missions?" He turned to Gaal again. "Did Wolfe intentionally let some of them get away in every skirmish?"

Gaal raised his eyebrows. "Now that you mention it…yes. When it occurred I thought it was merely fatigue that caused him to be sloppy." The old Ranger eyed Ron curiously, and he looked quite impressed. "You think he let a couple of our foes get away on purpose?"

"I think he wanted some of them to survive and tell the tale of his presence," Ron admitted. "Yeah, that's my theory. He wants Anastasiou to be thinking about him. No doubt he's planning something."

Hermione was impressed and awed by Ron's reasoning…and quite proud of the insight he was showing. "How did you come up with all of this?"

"Fred used to have a saying; Trick me once, shame on you. Trick me twice, shame on me. Wolfe proved to be a sneaky strategist by setting us all up to help him push Galatea away. I'm beginning to see how he thinks. Unfortunately, his plan is flawed. I don't claim to know Anastasiou better than he does, but five-hundred-year-old vampires tend to be very patient. I'm sure he'll see through Wolfe's ploy."

"Not only that," Gaal interrupted. "Anastasiou used to be a Ranger, when he was still alive. He was an analyst. That's why he's so hard to catch. He's very clever."

"And Wolfe wants to take him on alone." Ron shook his head.

Hermione decided she had to swallow her pride and help Max before he got himself killed. He needed her friendship now, and she had to force him to open up to her once more. "Come, Ron. We have some planning to do!"

"'Bout what?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"You'll see."

*

They went to the medical wing, assuming that was where Wolfe had gone, only to find that Serafina Esposito had told him off and sent him on his way with some herbal painkillers. She said that too much of the magic that had healed previous injuries still lingered in his system, and that she couldn't use magic to heal him. She suggested that Hermione and Ron look for him in his quarters.

"I didn't know it was possible," Ron began pensively. "Harry got injured often enough, but Madam Pomfrey always healed him immediately."

"Well, it isn't very common but it is possible. Max gets injured every other week, on average." She shook her head. "He should've died a long time ago. Gavin Carey once calculated Max's life expectancy, taking his reckless behaviour into account."

"And?"

"Lets just say that a suicidal fruit fly has more of a life-expectancy than Max does," Hermione said delicately.

They made their way up to Max's room and Hermione pounded on the door. "Open up, Max, I need to talk to you!"

No answer came.

"Let me in! I know you're in there, I can hear your teeth grinding!"

"Maybe we ought to come back later," Ron suggested a bit apprehensively. It wasn't as if he were afraid of Wolfe, but the Ranger made him nervous. Only Hermione could worm her way into someone's life as quickly as she had with Wolfe. She was even on a first name basis with him…apparently something only Galatea had accomplished, with the exception of Wolfe's closer relatives, of course.

"Not a chance, we need to settle this now," she replied, with that glint of steely determination in her eyes.

"What do you want?" Wolfe's voice asked wearily.

"We need to talk."

"So talk!"

"We're not going to stand out here in the hall like two idiots! Let us in," Hermione said impatiently

"We?"

"Ron and I."

"Ron who?"

"Ron Weasley, you brainless git! Don't tell me that Manticore cracked your thick skull!"

Ron frowned. Hermione wasn't really being very diplomatic. Then again, maybe this was the only way to get through to Wolfe.

"Go away!" Wolfe said. He'd clearly intended to make it a command, but he sounded tired and indifferent instead.

"Max, don't make me involve Commander Ironheart in this. I'll have him order you to open the door if I have to. I don't want to treat you like a child but honestly, you're behaving like one."

That did the trick. Ron smiled as the door swung open to allow them in. Apparently Hermione really knew how to push Wolfe's buttons…to a limited extent. She still hadn't worked out a way to convince him to tell Galatea the truth. But that was his loss, because Galatea was quite a dish…He quickly cleared away those thoughts. After all, Wolfe could read minds, and he didn't want Wolfe to catch him thinking about Galatea in that context, because he noticed that the Ranger seemed to be in a really bad mood.

Instead, he surveyed the room. It was slightly larger than his own…or it seemed that way. Wolfe's bed had been suspended on four beams at a height of roughly six feet. Under it there was a chair and a desk, with the usual stuff that sat on a desk, all neatly ordered. Those were pretty much the only pieces of furniture in the room, and Ron guessed that Wolfe probably never entertained. It was a great way to save space though, and the decoration of the rest of the room seemed to hint that Wolfe spent many hours working out in his room. A punching bag hung from the ceiling, and dozens of weapons adorned the walls.

Wolfe limped over to the chair and pulled it out, gesturing Hermione to sit.

"Oh, no…you're injured…you can sit," she protested.

"It's not that bad," Wolfe grumbled, but Ron could tell this was a lie. Wolfe seemed in pain, and it looked like he was stooping because of it. Ron noticed this because they were both the same height, but Ron was clearly standing a bit taller at the moment.

"You don't have to play tough, Max," Hermione said, gently laying her hand on his shoulder. "Tell me…what's wrong? Do you want to attract Anastasiou's attention? Is that it? I heard you let some of his minions get away after every fight."

"Well, I'm impressed, little sister. You've got it all figured out." He sighed. "I guess…I had another reason, too."

"What is it…Max?" she asked.

Wolfe looked at Ron and shifted on his feet uncomfortably, and Ron knew it was time for him to leave. "I guess I'll give you some privacy…"

"No Ron, wait!" Hermione turned to Wolfe. "It was actually Ron who worked out what you were trying to do by volunteering for all those missions."

"Really?" Wolfe frowned and looked at Ron.

"Oh no you don't!" he thought, sensing what Wolfe was about to do. He wouldn't let Wolfe read his mind again just like that, so he concentrated and shivered as he conjured an image of Sybil Trelawney in lacy lingerie to his mind. If that wouldn't keep Wolfe out of his mind in the future, nothing would!

To his satisfaction, Wolfe groaned and looked away a moment later. "You need help…Weasley."

Ron shook his head and grinned at Hermione, who'd been looking at him quizzically. "I knew he'd try to read my mind, so I pictured Professor Trelawney in rather revealing lingerie and…"

Hermione burst out laughing. "S…Serves y…you right…M…Max!" she giggled, composing herself after minute or so. Then her face turned serious, and she raised her finger admonishingly. "You shouldn't abuse you powers like that, though! You really ought to respect people's privacy."

Wolfe simply shrugged. "I do my best. I was just curious how he came to that conclusion. Anyway, the other reason I'm taking all these missions is that…I…" Again he looked at Ron, expressing his desire for Ron to leave.

Then Hermione caught on. "Oooh! I told Ron about that!" she said, guiltily. "I'm sorry, but there is very little that I don't tell him. Don't worry though. He can keep a secret."

"You were hoping to find your sister?" Ron asked, catching on.

Wolfe gave a small nod.

"I see," Ron said. "Well, Hermione and I are here to tell you that you don't have to do all of this alone. In fact, you can't do all of this alone. From what I know of the Rangers of Illumination, it strikes me that they often succeed because they work together. Hermione and I have got really good at this sort of thing over the years," he added with a rueful smile, remembering how the two of them, and later Ginny as well, had always helped Harry out.

Max thought it over before giving a consenting nod. "You can help…if you want to."

"What about Galatea?" Hermione interjected.

"Galatea stays out of this!" Wolfe said adamantly.

"You could use her help too," Hermione argued.

Wolfe sighed. "I already told you why that isn't possible. Let it go!"

"Honestly…she can take care of herself!"

"I'm aware of that," Wolfe said impatiently. "But you don't know Anastasiou. He'll go after her family as well."

Ron shuddered. He'd learned that Galatea had been an early child in her parents' marriage, and that her eldest sibling would be finishing school that summer…or rather winter, since Southern Cross was in the Southern Hemisphere. She had two brothers and three sisters, the youngest being her twelve-year-old sister. Ron could see where Wolfe's concern came from, and he could relate to it. After all, his family had been high on Voldemort's hit list. "But you're forgetting that they chose to support her in her endeavour to become a Ranger," Ron pointed out. "That already puts them in some amount of danger."

"So why add to that danger?" Wolfe asked.

Ron shook his head. "That's not in your hands, and you know it…!" He'd had a very similar conversation with Harry in their fifth year. Back then, he hadn't been able to understand Harry's motivations, and they ended up not speaking to one another for a few weeks. "Hermione, could you please step outside?"

"Why?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"Wolfe and I need to have a man-to-man talk, and you're not a man…and no, I'm not going to say anything stupid!" he said, forestalling the question that had been forming on her lips.

Wolfe eyed Ron curiously. "It's okay…little sister," Wolfe said almost good-naturedly, using the nickname that again emphasised the depth Hermione had so quickly managed to obtain in her relationship with him.

"I'll be right outside," Hermione said as she grudgingly walked out of the room, nearly slamming the door shut behind her. She hated being left out.

"So…talk!"

Ron took a deep breath. "You know…for such a fearless bloke, you show moments of remarkable cowardice." Wolfe's face darkened and Ron hastily explained. "Deep down, you know you're not just trying to protect Galatea. You're trying to save yourself the hurt you would feel if something did happen to her! But you can't rationalise your behaviour by thinking that you're doing it to protect her."

"I want her to live…I care about her," Wolfe said, a hurt expression on his face. "Is that so bad? It can't be bad."

"Oh, do you?" Ron said sceptically. "Then why do hurt her by pushing her away? You want her to live, but I don't think she wants a life without you."

"Yes she does," Wolfe said gloomily. "Gavin just told me she went out on a couple of dates with a mediwizard."

"And my sister's going to marry the slimiest git in the world in an attempt to forget Harry, who, by the way, had a big hand in starting that whole mess by distancing himself from her because he didn't want her to get hurt. My point is, the fact that Galatea went on a couple of dates with that mediwizard doesn't mean that she doesn't love you anymore. If you don't believe me, you can ask Hermione. Okay, I'm straying from the real point I'm trying to make. I called you a coward because you're afraid to act on your feelings for Galatea, while you willingly take all those insane risks on your missions. Just tell her how you feel."

"But…what if I die? Won't she be hurt even more? And what if she dies?"

"Aha! That's the crux of the matter, isn't it?" Ron gave him a knowing smirk. This was almost exactly like Harry. "Listen, if she dies, at least she'll die happy. If you die, she'll have good things to remember you by…both options are better than what would happen if one of you were to die now. The other would be left with all sorts of 'what ifs'. You can't be afraid to live for fear of death…either your own or Galatea's. You won't have much of an existence if you do. I mean, be honest with yourself. How have you been feeling for the past month, with Galatea not talking to you?"

A couple of minutes of very awkward silence followed before Wolfe finally spoke. "You know… for someone who has the reputation of being a dense prat…you show moments of remarkable insight."

"It's all a matter of personal experience," Ron admitted seeing some truth in Max's remark. "In certain ways, you're a lot like Harry."

"Harry," Wolfe said thoughtfully. "You know…he and I nearly grew up as brothers." He pulled a little green diary out of his pocket and opened it. The page started shimmering, and Ron saw an image. "It's like a pensieve, but the memory within is interactive," Wolfe explained, "but it only comes alive at my touch." He placed his hand on Ron's shoulder. "Hang on!"

The room seemed to lurch, and the next thing he knew Ron was standing inside a room filled with Chinese decorations, and a painting of a large and fearsome-looking Chinese Fireball.

"This is what my great-grandfather's home was like, in Kowloon, at the end of the nineteenth century," Wolfe explained. "Before his parents shipped him to Britain to attend Hogwarts. That's where he met Rose McKinnon."

"Hello, Maximilian. I see you're not alone, this time." A short and stooping Chinese man walked up to them.

Wolfe nodded. "This is Ron Weasley. He's Harry Potter's best friend."

"Ah, Harry Potter…the boy who lived."

"Ron and I were talking about Harry. I told him about the plans you had for Harry."

"Ah, yes!" The small wizard nodded slowly. "Harry Potter…I heard he managed to repel a killing curse. When word reached me, I spent a year tracking down where Dumbledore had him hidden. It wasn't too difficult, after all, as Harry was not protected by the Fidelius Charm…" The old wizard shook his head. "Brilliant wizard, but far too trusting. I got the information out of the half giant easily enough…the weak link in Dumbledore's plan. All I had to do was get him drunk, and then I slipped him some Veritaserum."

"Master Lei wanted to kidnap Harry," Wolfe said, looking half-amused and half-appalled at the same time.

"Kidnapping is such a negative word," The old wizard muttered. "I merely disagreed with Dumbledore's course of action. I wanted to take Harry under my wing, and train him, as I trained Max. But the First Ranger seemed to agree with Dumbledore, and she forbade me to execute my plan. I guess the boy turned out all right after all." Master Lei shrugged. "Is that all you want to know?"

Wolfe nodded. "That is all. Until next time," he said, and then they rose out of the room and landed outside. They were back in Wolfe's room.

"Your great-grandfather was quite a piece of work," Ron said disapprovingly.

"If the rules weren't in his favour, he tended to ignore them…yes." Wolfe smirked. "I've been told that I take after him in that respect."

"Nice little diary too. Voldemort made one just like it," Ron said, examining the book warily.

Wolfe shook his head vigorously. "No. Voldemort used dark magic in his diary. In case you didn't notice, my great-grandfather's memory, while interactive, isn't sentient. It could never undertake any action on its own."

"And it doesn't suck out a person's life energy?"

"No, it doesn't," Wolfe reassured him. "It's just a fancy version of a pensieve. You know, I think I'm going to make one myself."

"Really? Why?"

"If I ever have any kids, and I die when they're too young to remember me, I want them to have something to remember me by."

"That's not a bad idea," Ron said, but it occurred to him that being able to carry their father around in their pocket wouldn't help them to move on. "But maybe that isn't such a good idea either. Harry and I ran into a Mirror of Erised in our first year at Hogwarts. Harry told me that it had been a good thing Dumbledore had talked to him about it, otherwise it might have driven him insane. He kept going back because he saw his parents and his family in the mirror."

"You think they would dwell on the past and not move on?" Wolfe frowned.

"You have been rather absorbed in this diary, haven't you?"

Wolfe's lips curved upwards. "I guess I have been turning to Master Lei for guidance more often then I should have." He closed the diary and placed it in his pocket.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but it's rather lonely out here in the corridor!" Hermione complained.

"Go on!" Wolfe nodded. "Tell Hermione I'll swing by her place in a couple of hours. I need some time for these herbs to take effect. Then we could go to the Barrel to have a drink."

"Are you buying?" Ron grinned.

Wolfe shrugged. "Why not?"

*

A couple of hours later in the town house, Hermione was still utterly stunned by Ron's tale. "I can't believe he told you all that. How'd you manage to get it out of him?"

"I guess you rubbed off on me." Ron shrugged.

"You did a heck of a lot more than just rub this morning!" Lilia teased. "But seriously, Wolfe's going to admit how he feels about Galatea?"

Ron shook his head. "I didn't say that. But I guess I did succeed in making him see that he couldn't keep hurting Galatea like that."

"I'm proud of you, Ron!" Hermione beamed and leaned over to kiss him on the lips.

"Ugh, get a room!" Lilia groaned.

"Great idea!" Hermione said mischievously, and proceeded to drag Ron into her room.

While Ron was quite in the mood, a quick look at the clock told him that Wolfe would be arriving any minute now. Sure enough, someone was knocking on the heavy door downstairs, and the house-elf announced that Mr Wolfe was standing at the door.

"We've got to go. Are you coming, Lilia?" Hermione asked.

"I can't!" the Filipino witch said sadly. Ivanova's been feeling a bit under the weather. I've got a three-hour shift in half an hour. Galatea's taken over three hours too, and I'm going to relieve her now. Should I send her to the Barrel?"

"Do that…and come and look us up at the Barrel then. We'll probably still be there after your shift ends," Ron said.

"As long as you're buying!"

"Better…Wolfe is!" Ron grinned.

They decided to stroll down to the Barrel at a leisurely pace, though Ron thought they should have taken the portal. Wolfe didn't seem in pain anymore, but he was in a bit of discomfort.

Galatea appeared out of a nearby portal, still in uniform, and joined them, but she treated Wolf very coolly and barely acknowledged his presence. Wolfe hid his disappointment very well, but Ron saw a brief look of hurt flicker through his dark eyes.

On their way to the Barrel, they bumped into a tired-looking Padma Patil, who came walking out of the Concordian Chronicle building. She was probably getting off work.

"Hey Padma?" Hermione called.

Padma gave her a bland smile. "Hey!"

"I haven't heard from you in a while," she admonished.

"I've been a bit busy." Padma replied. "I…I…" A tear rolled down her cheek, and she didn't finish her sentence.

Galatea stepped in and threw her arm around Padma. Ron assumed that Galatea used her emphatic abilities when she said, "Man trouble?"

Padma sniffed and nodded.

"What kind of bastard would make you cry, Padma?" Ron said, feeling concerned. "Do you want me to beat him up?"

Galatea's eyes widened in concern. No doubt she had sensed something. "He physically harmed you! Who is it?"

"Yes, who is this guy? I'll round up some Rangers and go talk to him, before handing him over to City Watch," Ron growled.

Padma's eyes widened in fear. "No, it's nothing…stay out of this!" she said quickly.

"Come on, this is what we…" Ron started to say, but Padma's sudden fearful attitude at the mention of the Rangers made his blood run cold. He also noticed that Padma was looking at Max warily. "It was a Ranger, wasn't it!" It was more of a statement than a question.

Padma started weeping softly. "It wasn't his fault. I lead him on."

"Who is it?" Galatea asked. "This is serious. A Ranger can't behave like this. I can't believe a Ranger did this to you! You must tell us who it is! We can't have an individual like this as a member of our Order!"

"I…I can't! He said nobody would believe me anyway."

"When one of us misbehaves we take it very seriously," Wolfe grumbled. "Whether you led him on or not, he should have respected you! You need to tell me who it is…" he said, looking straight into her frightened eyes.

Padma opened her mouth…"Quist!" But it hadn't been Padma's voice that said it, but Wolfe's, and Ron realised that he must have used his gift.

"Max, where are you going?" Galatea called after him worriedly, but Wolfe didn't answer.

*

"How did he do that?" Padma asked fearfully.

"Long story!" Hermione said quickly. "But it's true then? Quist did this to you?"

"Why didn't you come forward?" Galatea asked, squeezing Padma's shoulder softly.

Padma started sobbing. "He…he said he'd kill me…and that nobody would believe me anyway. He knows where Parvati and Oliver Jr live…he said he'd kill them first!"

Ron frowned as he absorbed this information. It was clear that the Order of Illumination was not without corruption, despite their best efforts to keep it pure. Anastasiou had been a Ranger, after all…and Ron had heard some stories of Rangers who had gone bad. Ron had noticed that Quist seemed a bit rude and coarse when it came to dealing with women, but Ron had never expected him to be capable of this! Then he remembered how angry Wolfe had been after he read Padma's mind, and evidently Hermione shared his concern.

"Come on! We have to go to the Citadel now!" she commanded, and started pulling Padma along with her.

"Why…what do you need me for?" Padma protested, obviously very frightened.

"You have to make a statement!" Hermione explained.

"We have to hurry!" Galatea said anxiously. "I know Max! He'll probably confront Quist and try to fight him! But he is in no shape to fight right now. Once Quist finds out that he's been exposed, there's no telling what he will do. He might kill Max."

"She's right!" Ron agreed. They had to hurry and hope that they'd get there soon enough to stop Wolfe. He'd seen Wolfe fight, and he'd heard that Wolfe was supposed to be better than Quist under normal circumstances. But as Galatea had pointed out, Wolfe's injuries gave him enough of a disadvantage…and this fight might be his last!

"Damn, why didn't I bring my emergency Portkey!" Hermione scolded herself as they hurried to the nearest portal. Hermione used a code that allowed it to open a gateway to the Citadel and the four of them quickly stepped through, ending up in the main entrance hall of the Citadel.

Three Rangers came up to them as they exited the portal. "What is the meaning of this?" a short Ranger with rather goblinesque features asked. He pointed at Padma. "She's not allowed in here."

"Do any of you know where Max went?" Galatea asked worriedly.

"Wolfe…haven't seen him." The short Ranger shrugged. "But what…?"

"Padma's been raped, and Quist did it."

"Impossible!" another Ranger said. "A Ranger would never…"

"We can be quite certain!" Hermione said impatiently. "But we need to find Max because he went to find Quist, and I seriously doubt those two will talk it out. We have to find them before one of them ends up dead!"

"Sounds serious," the third Ranger…a willowy green-eyed witch with short blonde curls said. Ron couldn't remember her name. Astrid…something; he knew she was Norwegian.

"The Command and Control Room!" Hermione exclaimed, thinking quickly. She sprinted over to a communications mirror in a nearby wall and touched it. It shimmered to life moments later, and she called Command and Control.

A Chinese witch's face appeared in the mirror. "What is it, Granger?"

"Lieutenant Li, we've got a serious situation. We need to know the locations of Ranger Wolfe and Ranger Quist."

"What's going on?" The witch frowned.

"I don't have a lot of time to explain. It boils down to this. Ranger Quist's been accused of rape and Ranger Wolfe believed the accusation. He's on his way to confront Quist, and it could get messy!"

"Rape?"

"Lieutenant!" Hermione pleaded. "We don't have time to certify the validity of this accusation at the moment. We'll have to do that later. Right now, we need to prevent that confrontation!"

"I agree!" the witch said, and looked away from the screen. "Sweep the building for Ranger Quist and Ranger Wolfe's whereabouts!" she barked. Moments later, a really concerned look came over her features. "It seems we're too late. They're in the training hall. The door is locked with heavy sealing charms."

"I can break them!" the goblinesque wizard said confidently. "Let's go!"

They rushed over to a levitation square and zoomed down to the level where the Training Hall was located. The goblin wizard immediately got to work, and muttered a series of complicated charm-diffusion incantations.

"The observation room!" Galatea said and ran through an archway a bit further down the corridor with Padma, Hermione and Ron close behind. From that room, the Training Hall could be observed through a one-way looking glass, and Ron saw that Quist and Wolfe were already circling each other, looking for an opening to attack.

Quist was a tall man, about an inch and a half taller than Ron and Wolfe, and had slightly longer limbs. That gave him the advantage of reach! Still, Ron was a bit puzzled by the fact that no wands were being used in the fight. Maybe it was a Ranger thing. "Can't we hear what they're saying?" he asked, for no sound was coming trough the glass.

"Oh, of course!" Galatea said, and she flicked her wand to remove a charm that must have been blocking out the sound. They were now able to hear what the two combatants were saying.

"I can't believe you did it, Quist! You dishonoured yourself, the girl, and the Order of Illumination. I couldn't care less about your honour or the absence of it, but I take the other two personally. You've scarred her for life. You scared her to death!"

"And here you are, playing the knight in shining armour!" Quist mocked.

Wolfe didn't react to the taunt. He just glowered at Quist. "Why did you do it?"

"The little slut was asking for it. She practically threw herself at me. She chickened out when I got serious," he said, and then he lunged with a speed that Ron could hardly follow, and Wolfe barely avoided being hit. The fight looked like an ordinary martial arts fight. But it was like it was being fought at an accelerated speed, and both Wolfe and Quist leapt across the Training Hall with ease, trying to get the drop on one another. Ron knew these to be very carefully controlled levitation charms, preceded by magically enhanced jumps.

The fight continued for a good five minutes, before Quist connected with a savage kick to Wolfe's midriff, and the stricken Ranger sank to his knees and coughed up some blood, before stubbornly rising back to his feet and assuming a fighting stance once again. Then he charged Quist and the fighting continued, but Wolfe was clearly too tired and injured to fight someone as strong as Quist properly, and Wolfe staggered back as Quist's fist connected with his face. They could hear the sickening crunch all the way up in the observation room.

"I can't believe that this side of you never surfaced in your evaluations!" Wolfe growled, seemingly unconcerned by the blood that was streaming down his face. "But you won't get away with this! You won't get out of the Citadel…you can't take women against their will like that and remain unpunished."

"Just watch me do all those things…in fact, I think I'll let you do just that, after I break every bone in your body. I'll put a spell on you to keep you conscious while I get down to business! Galatea's been looking fine lately." Quist grinned evilly. "Rumour has it that she's still a virgin, and that she's been saving herself just for you! And even if she doesn't have her virginity, I'll gladly tear up the box it came in!".

Hermione and gasped at the vile choice of words, and as Ron glanced over he saw Padma wrapping her arms around herself and starting to shiver. She kept rubbing her arms, as if she were trying to wipe off some kind of taint. Then he looked at Galatea and saw that her skin had done the impossible by losing even more colour. Ron gritted his teeth. He couldn't do a thing to help Wolfe, who obviously wasn't a match for Quist in his current state.

"I…I won't let you…hurt…Galatea!" Wolfe panted. "You'll…have t…to kill…me!"

"I don't believe it. You really do love that frigid little wench, don't you?" Quist cackled. "Don't worry, I will kill you, but after you watch me kill your…!"

Wolfe's roar drowned out Quist's last words. He'd been standing about twenty feet away from Quist, but he'd crossed the distance in the fraction of a second. In fact, he moved so fast that the motion had been blurry. Quist's body shook as he took a flurry of punches to his gut before being hit by the most powerful roundhouse kick Ron had ever seen. It caused Quist to be propelled across the room as if he'd been hit by several powerful charms at the same time, and he hit the opposite wall with a meaty thud, before sinking to the floor.

Still trembling with rage, Max strode over to where he lay and hauled him to his feet. Then he reared back his fist and prepared what looked like a finishing blow.

Then the doors to the Training Hall burst open, and Commander Ironheart, Lieutenant Li, and the three Rangers they had run into earlier ran into the hall.

"Max, no!" Ironheart screamed.

Wolfe hesitated for a second before dropping Quist's limp body like a sack of potatoes. Then he took a few unsteady steps, before collapsing onto the floor himself.

Ron blinked with surprise, as he saw Galatea and Hermione rush over and kneel down beside him. He hadn't even noticed their leaving, but as he glanced to his right he saw that Padma was still there, looking pale and withdrawn, and she was still shivering. He stepped closer to throw a comforting arm around her shoulder, but she flinched and backed away from him. With a start he realised the consequences of her ordeal. It would be a very long time before she'd trust any man again. Maybe she never would! He sighed. "I know it won't be easy for you but you have to tell your story one more time. Quist practically confessed his guilt, but they'll still need your statement!"

Padma nodded and shivered some more.

"C'mon, let's get you to the medical wing!" he said, and stuck out his hand.

Padma tentatively grasped it, and Ron gingerly led her to the medical wing. She'd be looked after there, while he could sink his teeth into the question at hand. How had a beast like Quist managed to remain undiscovered? He had to find out!

***

Author's Note: I'd like to thank you, oh noble readers, for helping me pass the 200-review mark. Let it also be known that I could not have done this with my beta, Anne, also known as Ashwinder. If you haven't read her stories, I strongly recommend that you do! Also, thanks Christine, for your help with this chapter, and thanks to gjegje for some tips about Icelandic names.