Chapter 26

Sudden Developments

"Vania?" Rolf momentarily looked away from the umpteenth chess game he and Ron had got into the last seventy-two hours. Ron followed his gaze.

Vania Goumas, who had crossed in front of the sleeping quarters' doorway on her way back to the small infirmary, turned towards them. "Yes?"

"Your eyebrows."

Said eyebrows rose. "What about them?"

"Exactly … them! Plural! What happened to the uni-brow we all know and love?"

"Maaike, Rachel and I have been doing some mutual grooming to kill time. You know, the right makeup to soften her features does wonders for Maaike's face."

Ron smiled. Knowing that it could take awhile before they made their move, the crews aboard the three Cruisers in formation over Chicago had agreed to three sixteen-hour shifts with eight-hour overlaps, thus keeping two teams on standby while the third team slept. For the Combat Rangers and the Healer, the wait was boring, and Ron didn't begrudge the three women in his crew the opportunity to kill time in their own way. The men trained, played cards, and held impromptu tournaments to test their weapon-skills, and while the women had also participated in some activities, Ron could imagine that they wanted some variety with more feminine accents.

The wait wasn't quite as boring for Ron, since he had to keep a close eye on the incoming telemetry, swapping vigils every two hours with the other intelligence officers on duty in order to stay sharp. The intelligence officers in question were Clara da Silva and Sarah Esklove, and they had Portkeyed to the Hurricane and Centaurus for the sole purpose of taking some of the pressure off him. Still, there had been some excitement during his monitoring duties, namely, when the Sentinel Globes had been sifting through all the rooms in the Ptolemy Palace Hotel, with the purpose of inventorying all the beings in the building. One of the suites had been occupied by no one other than a kneeling Severus Snape, starkers save for a collar and leash, with his wife Megan holding the leash while lashing his behind with a riding crop.

"Ron? Your wife want to talk to you." Cirilo Roverano called from the bridge

Excusing himself from the chess game, Ron went to the now-familiar tactical console. He flipped the appropriate switches to dedicate one of the mirrors to displaying Hermione and donned a headset to keep the conversation private. He hadn't spoken to her directly since leaving Shamballah, though he had spoken to Ginny, who had filled him in about some of the events.

"Talk to me, luv," he said when Hermione's upper body appeared on the mirror. She was wearing her dressing gown, and the background was their bedroom wall, telling him that she was at home. "How are things over there?"

"Since Heidi can barely look after herself right now, our children are still at The Burrow."

"Are you wishing you had taken your full maternity leave?" Ron asked, wondering if Hermione was regretting having gone back to work a month after the birth of their son. Normally a female Ranger could stay off active duty up to six months after her child was born, but Hermione had managed to convince their superiors to allow her to use the remaining five months around the time that Ron Junior would most likely be taking his first steps. Both of them had missed Raina and Christine's first steps.

"If I had been on maternity leave, I'd probably have been pressed into duty anyway. Faust and Kovalenko have recalled all the Rangers on leave. You know that two additional Cruisers have been sent out to cover the routes of the Centaurus and the Hurricane, right?"

Ron nodded. He also knew that the Hurricane would have been due back at the Citadel if its crew's mission hadn't been extended. It was almost like the days when the Order had been critically understaffed.

"I've also been pressed into some rather unusual duty," Hermione continued. "Those of us who are in Concordia are to maintain the illusion that there's nothing out of the ordinary going on. I have to spend a few hours every day posing as someone else." She made a disgusted face. "The foul taste of Polyjuice Potion rises up to my throat every now and then. The things we do for the Order."

"What about Harry?"

"Still in Shamballah. I don't know the details, but Nicolai asked him to stay because he's got a plan to make sure that Yamato can't use a Cylinder of Annihilation any time soon, and Harry needs to be a part of it for the plan to work. I hope they succeed. Gudrun and I were guarding prisoners when the Cylinder of Annihilation was charging up, so we were blissfully unaware of the danger we were in. But I can't forget the look on Ginny's face, even when it was all over. It scared me plenty as well, but I suppose I was spared some of the fear by the subconscious knowledge that the danger had already passed. It can't imagine what went through her head when she thought she was going to die and leave her children behind. She's still a bit rattled. I've new appreciation for the saying 'Ignorance is bliss'."

"She seemed all right to me when I spoke to her, yesterday. She was more concerned about how Danny had suffered in his separation from Sissi."

Hermione smiled. "As any good mother would be."

Ron decided to turn tack. "So, did you see the recording we made of Snape?"

Hermione's sudden fit of giggles answered his question.

"Bizarre, wasn't it?"

After Hermione had composed herself, she shrugged. "Well, he's spent a great part of his life in dungeons, so I can't say I'm terribly surprised by his … hobby. What's more bizarre is that he was the Sub. He always struck me as a Dom."

Ron failed to place the terminology. "You've lost me."

"Dom stands for dominant, and Sub for submissive. Those are the politically correct terms the deviants who invented sadomasochism came up with when an alternative for Master and Slave was needed.. Although, what Snape and his wife were doing was comparatively tame. He didn't even have weights hanging from his nipples."

Ron frowned. "How d'you know so much about this?"

"The Harrisons, my parents' former neighbours, were into that sort of thing. It was quite a shocker when they were discovered." Hermione shook her head. "They appeared so prim and proper on the outside. He was a lawyer, and she a GP." Then she giggled. "You should have seen the look on my parents' faces when they tried to explain it to me."

"So what did you parents think of it?"

"Whatever floats their boat, Mum said. Some of our other neighbours weren't quite as liberal, which is why the Harrisons moved, I guess. And don't ever tell anyone else about this, but I think my mum and dad might've taken a few leaves out of their book. When I got back home after our second year at Hogwarts, I found two pairs of handcuffs and a blindfold in Mum's dresser while I was looking for a decent hairbrush."

"Are you ever going to tie me up?" Ron asked in a whisper, lest he would be overheard.

"Now why would I do that? The way you use your hands is one of your best qualities. I might make you wear a blindfold, though," she added mischievously.

"Oh, you naughty girl!"

The mirror conveyed Hermione giving him a very sultry look as she peeled back her dressing gown a little. "Am I making you randy?"

"I'm getting there," Ron murmured huskily.

"You know, the Muggles have something called phone sex. Want to give it a go?"

"We'd better not. There isn't a lot of privacy around here, so you'd best keep that dressing gown on. And I don't want to have to explain my … err—"

"Tumescence?" Hermione offered.

Ron smiled sheepishly. "That's a very literary way of putting it, but yes. Are you reading your Pink Kneazle series smutty novels again?"

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Actually, they're short stories. And how many times do I have to tell you, those were Gudrun's!"

"It's all right to admit that even a brainy lady like you enjoys reading a smutty novel every now and then," Ron said teasingly. "Besides, Gudrun doesn't strike me as the type who reads those novels. If I'm to believe Matt, their real sex life is a lot racier than anything happening in those books," he added, recalling Matt's many quasi-complaints about Gudrun's voracious sexual appetite. It was a frequent topic of conversation among Matt and his circle of male friends—after the topics of work, Quidditch, and finances had been exhausted—and it transpired with Gudrun's full knowledge, blessing, and even encouragement, according to Matt. Ron secretly looked forward to those sessions, too, since he had added some of Matt's suggestions to his own repertoire, with spectacular results.

"I never said that Gudrun reads those books," Hermione said mysteriously, prompting Ron's thought process to switch to a higher gear. He realised that if Gudrun didn't read those novels, the only explanation would be that…

"She wrote them?" he whispered incredulously. "Gudrun is Venus Viridian?"

Hermione shot him a superior smirk. "The first rule about writing is to write about something that you know lots about. Gudrun certainly knows a lot about the kind of events described in smutty novels, wouldn't you say?"

Ron surmised that Gudrun was as free with her bedroom secrets among the women as Matt was with his among the men. He wondered if he could pick up some additional pointers if he read those books.

"Thinking about reading the smutty novels now?"

Ron felt his ears heat up. His better half knew him all too well. "You owe some very pleasurable moments to the fact that Gudrun gets a kick out of discussing their bedroom exploits with her friends and encourages Matt to brag about how insatiable she is, you know!"

"Now that you mention it, some of things you did on the night we conceived Ron Junior were remarkably similar to the events described in the fourth issue."

"So you did read them!"

"I never said that I didn't." Hermione's smirk became more pronounced. "When you confronted me with it, you phrased it as the booklets being mine. I merely said that they were Gudrun's. I never said anything about whether or not I read them."

"You sneaky little witch!"

"Elementary, my dear Weasley, and we both know that's why you married me."

"And you married me for my sharp mind and ability to see past your deception, most of the time, right?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nope. I married you because you're the greatest shag in the world."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Bit of a difficult assumption to make without means for comparison. Or do you have a confession to make?"

"Female intuition, luv."

"Well, remind me to properly thank your female intuition for the compliment when I get home."

Hermione's expression sobered. "Any idea when that'll be?"

Ron shook his head sadly. "We've seen some very important locals disappearing into the secret part of the hotel, including the current appointed United States Minister for Magic, George Shrub. Honestly, it's beyond me why he was elected. With that face of his, even a blind wizard wouldn't buy a used broomstick from him, yet they deemed him trustworthy enough to give him the job. I knew he was no good the first time I laid eyes on him, back at Laketown. Anyway, the stench of corruption seems to grow more pungent with every passing hour. Faust doesn't think that it's quite as bad as India was the year before we joined the Order, but pretty close. It'll take at least a few more weeks to expose the whole network, and we can only move once we've done so. You know, you'd better Portkey some more fresh uniforms, and I'll send my dirty ones back. And tell Mum that she might get to keep her grandchildren for the rest of summer."

"Shall I send some Pink Kneazle booklets as well?" Hermione teased.

"I don't think it's appropriate reading material for a bunch of people stuck on a Cruiser for the better part of the day, with tensions running high," Ron said slyly. "We only have two toilets that have to be shared by ten people, so don't want anyone to loiter in them while enjoying Venus Viridian's titillating works."

Hermione laughed. "Your dirty mind still surprises me sometimes."

"It's what'll happen if that smut comes aboard, though."

"And I'm sure that Gudrun would be flattered to hear that."

"So what does Gudrun do with all the money she makes with the sales?" Ron asked. "I mean, they're popular in most of the English-speaking wizarding world. Even Mum's got a stash of Pink Kneazle booklets. But it's not like Gudrun needs the gold."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your mum may be getting old, but she's not dead!"

"Her-mi-o-neee! There are some things blokes don't need to know about their mums."

"A better question would be where she finds the time to write. She might not go on patrol missions or do any of the drudge work anymore since she's a lieutenant, but she's got to put in more hours at the Citadel. Then there are the children…" Hermione continued, deftly evading the topic of her mother-in-law's smut booklets. "As for the proceeds, everything goes into the fund that Gudrun and Matt have started for the Exobiological Healers Institute that Nicolai is planning to set up. It'll pay for scholarships of students who can't afford the tuition."

The Exobiological Healers Institute would serve the purpose of providing training that could allow both young aspiring Healers and already fully educated and established Healers to learn about healing members of the races found in the Mirror Realm. It would be a stepping stone of sorts for Healers who wanted to practice in the Mirror Realm.

Ron chuckled. "Isn't the Lord Mayor's wife chairperson of the committee in charge of managing the fund? The same repressed old hag who went on record saying that shameless pornography like the Pink Kneazle series ought to be banned in Nomad Island?"

Hermione flashed him a devilish smile. "That's exactly why Gudrun picked her. The saucy wench always did have an appetite for irony."

"No kidding."

"Wrap up the dirty talk with your wife, Weasley. Commander Faust wants to talk to you," Cirilo Roverano called.

"My mirror is flashing too, Ron," Hermione said. "Someone's calling over here as well."

Ron blew Hermione a kiss. "Goodnight, luv. Sweet dreams."

Hermione returned his kiss. "I'm sure they will be." Then she faded from the screen, only to be replaced by Commander Faust's round face adorned with bushy eyebrows and walrus-like moustache. Ron found the sudden change jarring.

"No need to look so disappointed, Mr Weasley."

"What can I do for you, Commander?"

"You need to keep a lookout for the vampires," Faust said, getting straight to the point. "Unless their hideout was stocked with blood beforehand, the vampires ought to be getting hungry by now. Our careful observation of the hotel has enabled us to discount the possibility that blood was somehow smuggled in, and we know that no blood was taken from unwitting guests."

"What if the blood was Portkeyed straight to them?"

"We'd know," Cirilo Roverano interrupted before Faust could answer. "The magic of the Fidelius Charm cancels out the stealth properties of stealthy Portkeys. An arrival would light up any local Ministry detectors like a normal Portkey would, and you can bet your freckly butt that the locals have such a detector in a hotel where wizards regularly pop in with Portkeys."

Ron mentally slapped his forehead. Cirilo's explanation had to be the reason why the vampires hadn't directly Portkeyed into the hotel. He couldn't believe he hadn't even asked himself why they hadn't done so.

Faust nodded. "It is like your artificer said. I myself actually asked the very same question you did, in order to make sure that I didn't overlook anything. I also asked whether they could somehow have smuggled in blood via normal luggage in spite of our scans. Our artificers agreed that if the enemy has somehow developed a type of Confundus Amulet powerful enough to not only baffle the Sentinel Globes but also project a false image of the luggage's interior, we deserve to be beaten."

"So the vampires might be going out to hunt soon, and you're telling me this because you want me to do something about it, right?"

"We've informed the local magical government that the Order of Illumination will be conducting some exercises within their jurisdiction, though we didn't tell them where or when. When those vampires go out to hunt, I want Combat Rangers to"—Faust's brought his hands up and placed imaginary quotation marks— "accidentally stumble across the hunting party, dispatch some of them, and allow the rest to get away. The exercise requires only wands, so our people can't be seen carrying vampire slaying weapons."

"The British Ministry has been harassing you about results?"

Faust nodded.

"We obviously can't tell them what we've found, since they keep these kinds of secrets contained about as well as a sieve contains water," Ron thought out loud. He saw where Faust was going with this, though he didn't like the idea of deliberately exposing his people without all their resources. "So this operation is supposed to be orchestrated as a lucky break for us, giving us something to report, right?"

Faust gave him a sympathetic look. "I don't like the plan much either. If it makes you feel any better, it is also a means to gauge the reaction of the local Ministry officials. Your colleagues from Intelligence have been very busy planting surveillance artefacts all over the place, the clothing of most medium to high-ranking Ministry officials included. Our orchestrated clash is bound to startle some of them into releasing some valuable information."

Faust's revelation and the promise of additional information did make Ron feel a bit better about things. "All right. I'll pass the news down to the rest. Will you tell the other Cruisers? Or should I?"

"I suppose they ought to hear it from me. Prepare your people."

"Yes, sir."

Ron's face was immediately replaced by the face of a young Chinese Ranger from the Medical division. Rou-wan Yap had joined the Order the year before, and had attained her formal rank barely a week ago. Being the most junior Ranger in the Medical Division, she had been charged with running the lab in the evening. Since there were no patients residing in the wards or difficult potions in the making that needed constant supervision, the division's captain and lieutenant had decided to allow her to run the graveyard shift by herself so she could gain some experience. Her almond-shaped eyes were wide with worry, causing Hermione to wonder what had happened.

"Hermione, you need to come to here right away. There has been an attack at the Umbral Gate, and your niece has been poisoned."

Knowing that Holly was at The Burrow, Hermione deduced that it had to be Rose. She and Jasmine frequently went to wait for Charlie Senior to emerge from the gate after a day's work in Shamballah. "What happened?"

"There is no time. You will be told when you get here. You are authorised to use the emergency Portkey to come straight to the medical wing. Hurry!"

Hermione bolted upstairs and hastily threw on some robes. Then she went to the cupboard where the emergency Portkey was kept, and moments later she found herself in the office assigned to the division's commanding officer. Reasoning that Rosie would have been taken to the emergency room adjacent to the potions and antidotes lab since she appeared to have been poisoned, Hermione rushed to that room and found Charlie, Jasmine, and Charlie Junior standing outside. All three looked sick with worry, and Jasmine, with red-rimmed eyes, looked to be on the verge of a breakdown.

"What—"

"A Doppelganger assassin slipped through the Umbral Gate posing as one of the regular inter-realm merchants who travel back and forth," Charlie Senior said, his eyes growing shiny with tears. "I know the real bloke, too. I thought he was acting a bit strangely, not recognizing me immediately and all that. I should have known that something was up!" He slammed his fist into the wall in frustration.

"He was after Mum and me," Charlie Junior said softly. "He knew somehow that we're Mind Readers. He came to kill us so we won't be able to help with the unmasking of spies in the future. Ranger Khan tackled the assassin, but not before he got off a shot. He must've seen Ranger Khan coming, and the haste probably threw off his aim."

Hermione went numb with shock. The Doppelganger could hide its shape, but not its mind. How could it have eluded them when they'd been searching the crowd for conspirators? Assuming, of course, that it had been present at the time.

"He was, but he took the shape of a statue," Charlie Junior answered her mental question. "I helped Ranger Khan with the interrogation," he added to explain how he knew the tactic the Doppelganger had used to elude them. Then he grasped Hermione's hand. "But that's not important right now. You've got to go help Rosie. Mr Montoya's already had a look at her, but he doesn't know what to do because the poison's undetectable."

His pleas brought Hermione back to the present, and she quickly proceeded into the emergency room. Rosie's small form lay on a bed, and several kinds of antibiotic potions were being administered through intravenous drips. Montoya and Rou-wan spun around to face her.

Montoya sighed with relief. "Thank you for getting here so soon."

"How exactly was the poison administered?"

"A dart from a blow-gun," Rou-wan answered quickly.

"Do you have the dart?"

"Most of it shattered on impact, but I have a piece of its tip. I discovered it in the first examination, and I removed it." The young Chinese woman pointed to a little transparent jar on a nearby table.

"And you tested it for poison?"

Montoya nodded. "After we came up empty from testing the patient."

Hermione drew her wand and summoned the jar. It zoomed into her outstretched hand, and she immediately held it up to the light. "That doesn't look like a needle. It's a thorn. The dart was tipped with a thorn?"

She began to pace back and forth, forcing herself to think. Why would the assassin have used such a weapon? And why was this situation so hauntingly familiar? She had once heard something about assassins who used thorns to kill people, but the overall context had been different. Then, as if someone had switched the light on in her mind, it came to her.

Neville and Nicolai had told her about a bush that grew in the Mirror Realm. It had somehow adopted a virus carried by a species of lizard native to the Mirror Realm, creating a symbiotic co-existence and mutating the virus to a form so powerful that it was deadly to all but a handful of Mirror Realm creatures who appeared to have natural immunity. It was even lethal to Nundus, which were infamous for their disease-ridden breath, and it could destroy vampires, which weren't really alive anymore. There were only three known creatures immune to the virus: unicorns, phoenixes, and Dait cat-people. The Dait were the only humanoid creatures with immunity, and they were generally a peaceful race who possessed many deep moral values to use the plant's terrible trait. The people who did harvest the thorns had to be very careful.

Hermione also knew someone who had been infected by the virus. It had been an accident that had been the consequence of juvenile disobedience. A little over a year ago, Nathan and Xander Kelly had crawled into a secluded barn where some specimens of the plant were being kept, and Xander had been pricked by a thorn. He'd been very sick, but the trace of Dait blood running through his veins had been enough to save his life and he ultimately pulled through.

After deducing from Nathan's story that the plant might have made Xander ill, Nicolai and Neville had done the research that eventually yielded the information Hermione possessed now.

"Eduardo? Please take a sample of Rosie's blood and analyse it for exotic viruses. I'm fairly certain that you'll find it to be the one Alexander Kelly was infected with last year. And you need to stop the antibiotic drip, because this virus is like a Chizpurfle. All the potions we tried on Xander only hastened the infection."

Both Rou-wan and Montoya blanched when they heard it.

"You couldn't have known. The only reason I knew is because Nicolai once told me that the thorns of the plant that hosts the virus are used to tip blowgun darts," Hermione said soothingly, attempting to prevent her colleagues from being distracted by guilt at such a critical time. "I am going to call Gudrun and ask her to bring Xander over here. He's got the antibodies we need to fight this." Then she turned to Rou-wan. "Once the virus has been identified by the scans, you have to set the medical V.E.G.'s to enable you to see it. I need you to monitor the progress of the virus. I remember how quickly it propagated in Xander, but hopefully the absence of magic potions to feed on slows down its progress. Either way, we may not have much time left."

"I'll prepare the lab for extraction of Alexander's antibodies in the meantime," Rou-wan answered.

Hermione nodded, approving of the younger Ranger's efficiency, before turning to Montoya, who was about to leave to test the fragment of the thorn. "Can I use the mirror in your office?"

"Of course."

He had barely said the words, and Hermione was off, nearly colliding into Charlie Junior on the way out. Her slippers didn't offer the best of traction, so she neatly slid past the door to Montoya's office, barely maintaining her balance. Once inside the office, she frantically waved her hand over the mirror on the desk and called for Command and Control. The face of an older Belgian Ranger appeared on screen. She was a senior among the Intelligence Division analysts, and Hermione had been instructed by her during her first few months in training, when she'd been uncertain as to whether she ought to join the Medical or the Intelligence Division.

"Sabine. I need to be patched through to the Kellys' house."

"Can it wait? We're kind of busy with the operation your husband is in charge of in the field."

"It's literally a matter of life and death," Hermione said in a tone that allowed no room for discussion.

"You need a high security clearance?"

"Not really. I just need them to be contacted right away!"

Fortunately Sabine took her seriously, and her fading image told Hermione that she had been patched through. She drummed her fingers on the desk top while she impatiently waited for someone to answer. The seconds ticked by, stretching into what her anxious state experienced as an impossible eternity, though intellectually she knew it couldn't have been more than a minute. When someone finally answered, it wasn't Matt or Gudrun, but a sleepy Mary who was staying at her parents' with her daughter because Nicolai was occupied in the Mirror Realm.

"Mary! What took you so long to answer? Why didn't your parents answer one of the mirrors? They have one in their room, don't they?"

"I guess my parents are occupied at the moment," Mary replied, smiling wryly. "You'd think that they'd be a bit more sensitive to my feelings, since I've had to postpone the consummation of my marriage until Lord knows—"

"Then go knock on their door and tell them to answer the mirror in their room. It's an emergency. Literally a matter of life and death. Don't ask what, because I don't have time to explain twice," Hermione said, forestalling the question appearing on the young woman's lips.

Mary disappeared, leaving only an image of an empty painting in the background, its occupant probably visiting in another painting. Moments later Hermione heard the banging of a fist on wood. "Hermione's on the mirror, and she says it's literally a matter of life and death! It sounds really serious."

This time Hermione didn't have to wait very long, and a handful of seconds after Mary's shouts, Hermione's mirror screen split in half and Gudrun's flushed and sweaty face stared back at her from the newly formed half. She probably hadn't bothered to cover up since Hermione used to be her assigned physician before swapping patients with Lilia. Hermione could see the upper part of her breasts covered with a half-licked-away substance that could only be chocolate syrup.

The half of the mirror that Mary had occupied faded and was replaced by the new half completely, allowing Hermione to see over Gudrun's shoulder. Matt was reclined on bed, looking every inch the Greek god, with the sheet pulled up to his middle. As if the Gudrun's general appearance hadn't been enough, the impressive tenting of the fabric left no doubt as to what he and Gudrun had been up to, and she felt a bit embarrassed about having interrupted them despite the anxiety she felt because of Rosie. She also felt a brief pang of envy, understanding immediately why Mary had been so annoyed about it. Matt and Gudrun could be together, while Ron had been called away when he should have had some time off.

"What's the emergency?" Gudrun asked.

"In a nutshell, there's been an attack at the Umbral Gate complex, and Rosie was hurt. She'll probably die if she's not given antiserum soon, and I need some of Xander's blood to make it. Please hurry! Every second counts, so if you feel you're not presentable and need to take a shower first, send Mary instead. Let her use your emergency Portkey."

Gudrun looked shocked, but to her credit she composed herself quickly. "I'll send Mary, but my Portkey goes to my office near the maintenance bay. I'm not sure how quickly she'd find her way to the medical wing, so you'd better contact whoever is on duty there and have one of them escort Mary and Xander. I think Fazal and Karuna are on duty right now. I'll follow as soon as possible—wait, I'd better send Matt instead. He'd be better at calming Xander down."

The connection broke abruptly, and Sabine's blushing face appeared in the mirror again. "I'll connect you to the maintenance bay now."

Hermione understood that Sabine must have been listening in. From her duties in Command and Control she remembered that it was possible for the operator to either listen in with the sound only, or to see the images on both mirrors. This was done to allow the operator to anticipate things and make them go more smoothly, and was probably why the mirror Mary had answered shut off by itself like that. And judging by the blush on Sabine's face, Hermione guessed that she might have looked over Gudrun's shoulder as well.

Karuna Prajapati's face appeared on the mirror in front of her. Hermione knew the Indian witch, because she was her assigned healer. "Hermione? This is an internal connection. Aren't you supposed to be home?"

"You're out of the loop, Karuna. Gudrun's emergency Portkey will bring you company soon. I need you to escort them to the medical wing. Hustle them along. Every second counts."

"What if I Portkey them to you?"

"Oh, can you?" Hermione asked eagerly. "That would be even better!"

"Consider it done. I'll send the arrivals to the Captain's office as soon as they get here."

"I can't wait for them here, so tell them to take a right after they leave the office, and continue down the hall until they find the Weasleys."

"Will do," Hermione only heard Karuna say, because she was already out the door, figuring that CC would shut the mirror off for her. She hurried back to the emergency room again, and Jasmine grabbed her arm with the strength only a frantic mother could manage. "Can you save her?"

"We know what's wrong with her now. The tip of the dart was a thorn that comes from a bush harbouring a virus lethal to all but a few creatures. Medicines don't help"—Hermione paused, briefly contemplating and rejecting the idea of telling Jasmine that potions in fact accelerated the propagation of the virus—"but I've found a way to save her. One species immune to the virus are the Dait. Xander is part Dait, and he was infected with the virus last year, though that was an accident. He did get very ill, but even the little Dait blood he had was enough to save his life. Now he's got antibodies, and I'm hoping that those antibodies will save Rosie."

"You're not sure?" Charlie Senior asked in a strangled voice.

"There's a better than half chance that it'll work, but I can't guarantee anything," Hermione said apologetically. She didn't want to give them false hope, only to have Rosie die anyway.

"We understand," Charlie Junior said, showing surprising self-restraint given the circumstances. In fact, his restraint strongly reminded her of…

Hermione's heart ached as her thoughts strayed to Max, who had died only three days ago. His wake had entailed little more than his friends raising a cup to him, which was the way he would have wanted it. Aside from Heidi and the boys, his death hadn't hurt as much as Hermione thought it would have. She knew that part of that lack of hurt could be attributed to the fact that Wolfe hadn't been an active part of their lives the last few years, and because he had died thwarting Yamato and saving a few million lives in the process. Then there was that tiny part of her that hadn't acknowledged Wolfe's death yet. "I'll do what I can."

Jasmine released her arm, and Hermione quickly opened the door and entered the emergency room. Once inside, Montoya handed her a pair of V.E.G's and she put them on to see how Rosie was doing. She tried not to let her dismay show at the rate of infection, which was all the more shocking since outwardly Rosie didn't seem to be in much discomfort, aside from slight discoloration and a sheen of sweat on her forehead. It was almost as if her body didn't realise how ill it really was, and at the rate the virus was devastating it, Rosie wouldn't last the two hours it would take to isolate the right antibodies in Xander's body. She'd be lucky to survive one more hour.

"We don't have enough time to look for the right antibodies in Xander's blood and make a serum."

"So there isn't anything we can do?" Rou-wan asked worriedly.

"There is," Hermione began slowly, thinking it through as she said it out lout. "We can give Rosie a direct blood transfusion. Suppressing the immunological response due to blood-type incompatibility is much easier than fighting that virus."

"Incompatibility?" Montoya looked pleasantly surprised. "I think I have some good news, then. Alexander Kelly has type O negative. There won't be any rejection. Thank God for small favours."

Some of the tension in Hermione's gut eased as she heard the good news. "We'll have to do a direct transfusion to save time. Good thing we've been taught the proper procedures in case we ran out of blood-replenishing potion, eh?"

"A direct transfusion is risky," Rou-wan said.

Montoya shook his head. "It doesn't have to be. All we have to do is take stock of Xander's blood-count before we do the transfusion, and subtract one pint from that. Then the V.E.G's can be set to flash a signal when the limit is reached, and the transfusion can be aborted."

"Will the antibodies contained in that transfusion be enough to reverse the patient's condition in time?"

"It will have to be," Montoya said resolutely. "The boy turned five in February. Adults are only allowed to give about one-point-eight pints at most, so I won't take any more than one pint from Alexander in one go. One pint is pushing it already! But that is why Blood-Replenishing Potion will be administered immediately after the transfusion. That should allow us to take another pint in an hour."

"It might be too late then," Rou-wan countered.

"Perhaps. However, I am counting on the antibodies transferred with the initial transfusion to buy us some additional time. Now, we'd better start looking for the transfusion equipment."

"I know where it is," Rou-wan said and immediately left the room to fetch the proper equipment from storage. Montoya displayed impressive conjuration abilities by conjuring a slightly taller replica of the bed Rosie was lying on. He had taken gravity into account, though it wasn't strictly necessary since the transfusion tubes had gentle one-way suction charms on them. Hermione conjured a stool that would allow her to sit between the beds.

The door to the emergency room suddenly swung open, revealing Matt carrying his youngest son. The boy was still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Matt! You made it after all," Hermione said, feeling pleased that Alexander had been brought so quickly.

The tall Australian smiled. "I remembered a useful deodorising charm from my teens. I thought I'd better go with Xander right away, since I have a feeling that you'll need to do something Mary can't legally authorise."

"You have good instincts. Rosie needs the antibodies in his blood. We don't have enough time left to extract them, so there will have to be a direct transfer of blood. Don't worry, we'll do it responsibly."

Matt nodded in consent as he placed Xander on the bed. "Do what you have to."

"Why am I here, Dad?" Xander asked in a small voice. "Am I in trouble?"

Hermione sat down on the stool, which put her roughly at eye-level with Xander. "No, sweetie," she said kindly, "You're not in trouble. You're here because we need your help. Rosie is very ill, and we have to make a transfusion. Do you know what that is?"

Xander shook his head, and Hermione briefly thought about how to put it simply enough for him to understand.

"Rosie's very ill, and she can't live unless she gets blood from you. Will you give it to her?"

Xander looked at Rosie, and then at the grief-stricken Jasmine who stood in the still-open doorway. He swallowed hard, and nodded. "I'll do it, if it saves Rosie."

Hermione ran her hand through his sleep-tousled hair. "That's a good lad."

Rou-wan returned quickly, and the transfusion equipment was set up. The entry points for the transfusion needles were quickly prepared, and the needles stuck in.

Hermione turned to Montoya. "Will you monitor Xander and stand by to abort the transfusion?"

Montoya—who had moved a bit to allow Matt to sit beside him to hold Xander's hand—nodded and gestured to a bottle of Blood-Replenishment Potion. "I'm ready."

"Rou-wan? Monitor Rosie's vitals. I'll keep an eye on the virus," Hermione said, taking a pair of goggles set to monitor the virus. She lowered them over her eyes, and twisted a valve on the transfusion tube with her other hand, which started the transfer of blood.

Hermione began to notice changes mere seconds after Xander's blood hit Rosie's bloodstream. The viral presence surged towards the newly introduced blood, only to be repelled instantaneously, driven back farther and as each pump of her heart pushed the new blood through her system. As aggressive as the virus was, it seemed just as vulnerable to the antibodies able to fight it.

"You're a brave lad," Hermione heard Matt say proudly.

"I'm happy that I can help. Rosie is always nice to me," she heard Xander reply.

All too soon, Montoya commanded Hermione to stop the transfusion, and she reluctantly twisted the valve back to its closed position. Part of her had wanted to keep Xander's blood pouring in, since the transfusion had halted the infection and had was even slowly reducing it. But the part of her saying that doing so would sacrifice one child for another had won out.

"Her vital signs are stabilising," Rou-wan reported. "How is the viral infection?"

Hermione pushed the goggles up to her forehead and looked at the Weasleys. "It has stopped spreading, and the infection is reversing slowly. The antibodies seem to be able kill the virus more quickly than it can reproduce. If this keeps up, she'll be okay."

Jasmine started sobbing with relief and nearly went limp in her husband's arms.

Hermione smiled. "I'll keep a close eye on—"

A small hand patting her arm interrupted her, and she turned to look at Xander, who stared up at her with inquisitive eyes. "What is it, sweetie?"

"Did my blood help Rosie?"

Hermione glanced at Rosie. Colour was already returning to the girl's cheeks. She turned back to Xander. "Yes, it did. Your blood saved her."

Xander began to smile, but his smile faltered about halfway and his face grew pale. "Will I start to die right away?" he asked with a trembling voice.

Her mind still cluttered by the emotional roller-coaster she'd just been through it took a moment for the implications of what Xander had said to sink in. Recalling the details from her explanation to him about transfusions, she realised that she hadn't made it clear that only some of his blood had been needed. The little boy lying on the bed next to her had consented to help, thinking that he would be giving up all his blood.

With considerable effort, Hermione swallowed away the lump in her throat. "Oh, Xander, you're not going to die! We wouldn't take enough of your blood to kill you."

Matt's large fingers roughly ploughed through Xander hair, and shifting her gaze over to Matt, Hermione saw a look of intense pride on his face. She had a feeling that Matt wouldn't be able to say 'no' to Xander for a very long time.

Author's Note:

Greetings, oh noble readers. If it isn't too much of a bother, I'd like you to share your thoughts about thereduced momentum the main plot has been subjected to, particularly in this chapter and the previous one.Was it a nice diversion, or do you think I should have gone on with the mainplot? I'd really apprecaite some comments about this.

Also, I'd like to ask you to read thefic by RobBonner22again. Several chapters have been added since I last asked you to have a look at it, so you'll have more material to base an opinion on. Please leave a review, even if you don't like it. (though don't forget tosaywhy you don't like it) When I began to write there were far fewer stories to compete with, (the good old days when the Harry Potter section only had some 30,000 stories)so I was lucky in that regard and I got plenty of reviews for my first fic. Thinking that no one is reading you fic is far worse that getting criticism on it.I know you all have lives and can't spend as much time as you like checking out every story posted here, but please read and review that fic for me. If you decide you don't like it, that's fine. (as long as youleave a review that says so too)It should be particularly entertaining for those who like to see Harry angry. And the base plot is pretty original.

torifire126: I try.

DADAGinny: I do'n't think that someone being good at chess automatically makes them a tactical genius in other circumstances. Chess is highly logical and mathemathical, and it lacks the variables that real battles or even team sports games have. My version of Ron learnt the bulk of what he knows after he joined the Order, and yes, he's not perfect.

Fragarach: Yes, he did.

Gogirl: It was powerful stuff.

Lady of Masbolle: Reiki, my dear. I don't know if it works, but it certainly seems to work for believers.

hootild: My betas help me out a lot.

RinnaMarie: Yeah, lots of sisters everywhere.

Lyambren: It was used for the latter purpose, as well as to illustrate some of the 'occupational hazards' the Rangers have to cope with. It wasn't very hazardous physically, but very much so emotionally. I'm sorry if you thought it distracting.

TheSteiner: I have beta-readers. I'm not good enough to do this all by myself.

Saint Mike: It's the last subplot.

Elric Magus: I thought it would be a good change.

Lipton: It was time for them to return to the spotligh, even if only for a little while.

NYCGAL: I've just finished writing the twenty-ninth and penultimate chapter.