Chapter 63: Suicide Squad
"Déan iomlán," said Hermione, pointing her wand at the person's damaged spine.
As that spell took hold, knitting the bones back into place, Hermione raced to another fallen person. She was finding that the Patronus, while it left some of them in stasis, hadn't actually fixed anything. So most of them were still dying, unless she healed their life threatening wounds.
In the middle of the wet grass lay a body that Harry's Patronus had passed over, a person staring sightlessly at the sky. She couldn't see anything visibly wrong with him—no marks, scars or burns. He was young too, maybe a recent Hogwarts graduate. She bit her lip and kept searching for people she could save.
One of them, his legs broken, was struggling to crawl through the grass on one arm.
"Wait, please," said Hermione. "I can heal you."
The man kept going, until finally Hermione had to pin him down with a stasis spell. She turned him over, flinching when she saw his face.
"They didn't...stop it," he said from a smooth, pale face. "We have to…run."
By the grey pin on his lapel, she pegged him as an Unspeakable. They were the only ones besides Aurors who glamoured themselves faceless.
"Why?" asked Hermione.
"The Ministry…it's…a bomb…"
Hermione frowned, glancing at the ground beneath her feet.
"Run…" he gasped, then was still.
"No!" She cast the healing spells frantically. "Please, wake up, wake up…"
The night air was cool, but sweat soaked her robes as she worked to save him. It was only after she stood up that she understood.
The ground was hot.
Alarmed, Hermione rushed to heal the rest, the dirt beneath her feet like warm sand.
Brooms landed to join them, their uniforms the navy blue of the French Military Brigade. "Do you need assistance?" one asked, in heavily accented English.
"Please!" cried Hermione. "We need to get them out of here!"
###
Harry stared at the elf cowering in front of him, its ears lowering. He was keenly aware of the fact there was a certain charm in being called "Master," and he was relieved his younger self had been unaware of the benefits of owning House Elves.
"Master Harry, we finished the pathways."
He started. "You did? All of them?"
"Yes," said the elf. "We worked all day and night, like you said. We finished early."
Harry saw the weak little elf was trembling, barely able to stand. "Umm…Winky, was it?"
"Yes."
"You did a great job, Winky. I didn't expect you would take me literally when I said work around the clock, but…thank you." He felt as if he should offer the elf something, like food maybe, but there was no time. "Did you make one for St. Mungo's?"
The little elf nodded.
"Then take me there."
"Master!" squeaked the elf. "You must not go! It isn't safe."
"Nowhere is safe," said Harry, then paused, debating. He cast his Patronus to contact Hermione, but it didn't work.
Harry frowned. That…wasn't good. It was the third time his Patrous failed to appear since his collapse. He could only hope it was caused by magical exhaustion.
"Master," said the elf. "You must come inside and rest. The Aurors will not be in St. Mungo's long, why put yourself in danger?"
It was a long moment before Harry said, "Tell me, are all the preparations for the defence of Hogwarts complete?"
"I…" She lowered her head. "Yes, Master."
There was a time when Harry would have hesitated. It was not safe in London, and if he left, there was little chance he'd return to Hogwarts. If the school was attacked, he couldn't be here to help them.
But Harry was beginning to feel like this wasn't his fight. He'd done everything he could do prepare Hogwarts. He had created the plans; it was time to let someone else execute them.
"Winky, take me there."
When Harry popped into St. Mungos, several wizards with wands surrounded him.
"Somnium," they said.
###
Hermione sat in the hospital room, watching over Cedric.
And every so often, she would look out the window at the growing darkness.
They were close enough that the wreckage could be seen. The Ministry still smoldered, heat rising from its center as the ground turned into a massive sinkhole. As soon as the French Ministry was prepared to house them, the patients in St. Mungos would be evacuated. But for now, it was oddly the only place where both Ministry survivors and patients could be safe and warded from Bellatrix.
Hermione bit her lip. To be honest, if they couldn't fix the problem, then they were probably better off being close to the epicenter when it…happened.
There was a knock on the door, and Hermione smiled as Tonks entered the room.
"Heya kiddo," she said. "I got here as soon as I could. How's Cedric?"
"He seems okay," said Hermione. "But the healers said we won't know for sure until morning."
Tonks nodded, taking a seat on Cedric's opposite side. They were quiet for a few moments.
"So," she said, tapping her fingers on the bedside table. "I just heard your stalker broke into St. Mungos."
"Harry?" gasped Hermione. "How?"
"Not sure, but whatever strategy he used was extremely illegal, so the Aurors have been grilling him for the last two hours." She shrugged. "But we have bigger fish to fry, and they decided he's not here to murder us all. They're releasing him now."
Hermione fidgeted in her seat. She remembered the blazing light of Harry's Patronus shielding her, and she wondered if that had anything to do with why he was here now.
"I can't believe he broke in to see you," sighed Tonks. She rapped her fingers on the bedside table, frowning. "I get it, though, why he did it. When Remus left Hogwarts, I had to fight every instinct not to hop on my broom and join him, to join both of you. But now...I wish I had gone. I could have been fighting by your side, protecting the Ministry, not just…wasting time at a job I'm no good at anyway."
"That's not true at all," said Hermione. "It's because of what you taught me that we made it out alive. You don't have to be perfect at something for your work to matter."
Tonks returned the smile, though it was pained. "I guess I'm not a completely incompetent Defense teacher after all." She stood up. "I've got to go find Remus." She hugged Hermione. "I'll see you at the meeting tonight."
She left the room, and Hermione turned to gaze at the wreckage outside, surrounded by police tape and flashing sirens. She wondered how much the Muggles knew about what was happening.
A few minutes later, she heard rapid footsteps as Harry appeared in the doorway. He stood there, his Hogwarts robes rumpled, his hair a wild mess. He stopped, gazing at her wordlessly for a long moment.
"You're not hurt," he said. "When they said you were in a hospital room, I was worried…"
"No," she said. "I'm…I'm okay."
Hermione sat there, her throat tight, at a loss for words. What could she say to the boy who sent his Patronus to comfort her each night, who saved her from Dementors? The same boy she pined for and cried over, and who had left her last letter unanswered.
"So, I…umm…heard you broke into St. Mungo's," said Hermione.
"Well, yeah, apparently," Harry sighed. "I thought the pathway I used was perfectly legal, and I even filled out the appropriate forms a few weeks ago."
"Then what happened?"
"Well, so you know how house elves can jump between buildings when they have an established pathway?" Hermione nodded. "I asked the Hogwarts elves to create a pathway between Hogwarts and several different locations, one of them being London. What they didn't tell me was that house elves are restricted to jumping between ten to fifteen miles in any direction, unless they connect more than one pathway. Which they did…by hijacking into house floos. We're charged with 49 counts of breaking and entering."
She blinked. "Forty-nine…they didn't tell you?"
"No, and I even asked them specific questions about how they were going to construct those pathways, and they said, 'Don't worry, Master!' and 'We can do it Master!'"
Hermione smiled. "Wait, really?"
"Oh yes, they were very enthusiastic about it. I mean, don't get me wrong, Winky's plan was brilliant, she had us riding through a ridiculously complicated network of pathways like a slip and slide. Still, that's the last time I take a house elf at their word again. Devious little bastards."
Hermione burst into laughter. "Oh, Harry, how do you get into these situations?"
"That's what I'd like to know."
She approached him, noticing he was leaning heavily against the doorway. "Are you okay? The guards didn't hurt you, did they?"
"No, I'm just tired. It's been a long day." He gazed at her, then wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so happy you're safe."
She hugged him back, the realness of his presence washing over her. They took a seat on the opposite side of the room from Cedric, and Harry glanced over at him, before turning back to Hermione. He took her hand in his own.
"How is everything here?" he asked.
She sighed. "It's bad. Hundreds are dead, and Madam Bones is in critical condition. Mad Eye has lost his magical eye, and he's taking it hard. The Ministry is completely destroyed, but the heat in its wreckage continues to rise."
Hermione turned to the window, where the wreckage glowed with blue and orange police lights. She thought about telling Harry what happened inside, but the whole fight…and just everything…seemed so big she might drown in it.
"The Ministry heating up is definitely not a good sign," said Harry, frowning. "Does anyone know why it's doing that?"
She shook her head. "I'm not sure. The Ministry heads are meeting with the Unspeakables now, and after that, we're having an Auror meeting to discuss our next steps."
They were quiet for a moment, and Hermione watched as Harry crossed the room to look out the window. He touched the pane of glass, just a moment, then drew his fingers away.
"We're very close to the wreckage," said Harry. "And I mean...I suppose existing infrastructure and critical injuries was the reason we didn't move to a location that's farther away. Still, it's worrying. We have no idea what's in that sink hole, so we should be 30 miles away under 3 meters of concrete bunker that's warded to high heaven."
"We won't be here much longer. The French Ministry is going to help evacuate civilians tomorrow morning. As for the Muggles in London...that all depends on if we can get permission to suspend the Statute of Secrecy so we can collaborate with them."
"If possible, try to be in that meeting when they make that decision. You've saved a lot of lives so far and filled this hospital to capacity, so what you have to say will matter to them."
She frowned, confused by his response. "It wasn't just me, though. Did you…did you see the attack?"
"No," said Harry. "Though, it must have been terrible." He returned to her side, took her hands in his. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there."
"But...you were," said Hermione. "Your Patronus was, anyway."
He blinked for a few seconds. "It…what?"
"After the Ministry fell, the Dementors attacked, and it was your Patronus that drove them away. It even brought some of the dead back to life. You saved Cedric, and you saved me, Harry." She frowned at his lack of response. "It...was you, wasn't it? Your Patronus?"
"My Patronus…can bring people back to life?"
"Err…yes?" she said. "You didn't know?"
"Hermione, are you sure that's what happened? The people weren't just knocked out, or held in stasis, or—"
She shook her head. "Cedric...h-his neck was broken, he wasn't breathing, and then you-I mean your Patronus-brought him back."
Harry stood up and took out his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
Nothing happened.
"Expecto Patronum!"
The air remained still.
"Expecto Patronum! Damn it!"
Hermione stood and touched his shoulder. "Harry? What's wrong?"
"This has been going on for hours. But I can cast other spells just fine, so it can't be magical exhaustion. So what the...uggh!" He collapsed back into his chair and cast a quieting charm. "Hermione, tell me everything that happened."
She told him how his Patronus had appeared, destroying some dementors and banishing the rest. How the Patronus touched people on their foreheads, his light filling each one until his light had grown faint. Harry jumped when she mentioned the Patronus talking, asking for the exact words. All the while, she held his hand, tracing patterns against his fingers. "You look so shaken up," she said. "I really assumed you knew something about it."
"Well…in hindsight, yes. I did have a sort of 'conversation' with what I assumed was the Source of Magic. But now, after everything you've told me, I'm starting to wonder." He turned to Hermione. "One of the voices denied my request to create a portkey and said something about "the Line of Merlin." Which…I don't even have time to get into that now. Then another voice sided with me, offered me another way to protect you that involved sacrificing life points. And then I passed out."
"Oh," said Hermione, blinking. "That's…weird. Do you think you were talking to your Patronus?"
"Well, honestly I don't know. That would imply my Patronus is sentient enough to have a conversation. It is possible he was simply borrowing my self-awareness, in the same way the Sorting Hat mimics the mind of the wearer. If his intent was to save lives, and it did so on my orders, then it could have used my brainpower to do so. It's not…completely outside the realm of possibility, and it's probably our best case scenario." He sighed. "But it's all conjecture at this point, because I can't seem to call my Patronus to perform any kind of cognitive tests."
"I don't understand. Do you…want him to be sentient? Because you seem sort of against the idea."
He shrugged. "I'm not against it, far from it. A sentient Patronus could be a valuable resource. But it's also…well…"
"More complicated?"
"Yeah, basically," Harry rubbed his forehead. "Now more than ever, we need any advantage to fight our enemies. But if my Patronus is fully sentient, that's a variable I can't plan for, as sentient magic is notoriously temperamental. If I can't call my Patronus, is that because I drained him of life points, or because he's refusing to appear? How long has he been sentient, and why did he choose today, of all days, to speak to us? Is there something important he knows that we don't?"
They were silent for a few moments as Hermione thought. She blinked in surprise as a memory came back to her.
"Wait a minute. A month ago, your Patronus told me I had a booger on my nose."
"What?"
"And a few nights ago, he complimented my pyjamas."
"You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking."
"Well, I mean, I thought about telling you, but I just…assumed it was…you."
Harry sputtered. "Oh, sure, I send my Patronus 700km every night and expressly tell him to notice and comment on your undergarments. Even without calculating all the variables, I can promise you that Bayesian probability is pretty close to zero."
Harry's face was so indignant that Hermione burst out laughing. She leaned against her chair, dissolving into giggles. "I'm sorry it's—it's just so ridiculous! Remember that whole debate about whether your Patronus was naked or not? If your Patronus was sentient, and he's been coming to my room every night—"
His eyebrows raised. "What?"
She kept laughing deliriously, her eyes streaming with tears. "Oh Harry, I don't even know…today has been just so awful and terrifying and now you're here with your Sentient Patronus, who destroys dementors without wearing pants! At some point your suspension of disbelief just goes and you have to find the whole thing funny or you start crying."
Harry was silent for a few moments, before smiling and shaking his head. "It's like a really bad comic book twist, huh?"
"It really is," she said, giggling.
He nudged her arm. "For the record, I wish you'd told me."
"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm acting like a complete mess right now, but I'm just so happy you're here I don't even know what to do with myself."
"You are?" he asked softly.
"Yes, it's just like old times and that makes me so happy and—scared and…oh, Harry, I don't even know what I'm saying."
He gazed at her. "I think I do."
She stopped laughing, fear quieting her. Whispers of past hurts warned her not to get too close to this boy, who could so easily hurt her. She swallowed, wishing she could curl back into the happy bubble where she was just laughing with her friend.
He squeezed her hand. "Is there some place we can be alone to talk?"
"Not really," she said. "Everywhere is filled up with patients from the Ministry. So unless you want to go in the broom closet over there…"
"A closet, huh? Too bad I tend to get stuck in those."
She giggled again. "Then you'll trap us both, that would be tragic."
"Would it?" said Harry, who stood to open the door. "Hmm, interesting."
"What's in there?" asked Hermione, standing to join him.
It contained standard supplies for patient care—spells and potions—and a mysterious locked box.
"You know how there's a reward for adventurers who open locked trunks?" said Harry, taking her hand and leading her inside. "I'm betting that's what it is. But I think this time it'll be more useful for sitting." He sat down and patted the spot next to him.
Hermione took a seat beside him, and he shut the door. Light shone inside the room, but she couldn't see where it came from. She turned to Harry, who drew out his pouch and said, "Hermione's letter."
He drew it out, and then held it, gazing at her nervously.
"Uhh…I wrote you this letter, and I think it expresses what I want to say. I'm afraid if I try to say it again, I'll stutter and sound kind of stupid."
He handed it to her, and she stared at it. Fear gripped her and froze her body.
This was it.
She glanced up at him, her eyes searching, and he frowned. "What's wrong?"
Hermione swallowed, wishing she wasn't so afraid to hear his verdict. Harry seemed to realize. "Jeez, I'm such an idiot. The first time can't be in a letter."
He hesitated a second, then took her hands in his. "I love you, Hermione. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how important you are to me. Please be my girlfriend."
She blinked, the words sinking into her. "What?"
"I…I said I love you. I want to be with you."
"Are…you sure?"
"What do you mean, am I sure?"
"I mean…you said you loved me before, but just not enough." She stuttered it out. "I've thought you liked me so many times, and then you always change your mind. So…I need to know…you're not just saying this because you missed me, or worried about me? You're not going to change your mind again once we get back to Hogwarts?"
He stared at her for a few seconds, and he looked so hurt that she thought she should say something. "I—"
"I'm awful," he said. "And I'm really sorry. I do love you, deeply and truly. But I realize I've made a liar of myself by my own actions, and truthfully you have no reason to believe me now." He raked a hand through his hair, his cheeks flushing red. "I…I won't rush you. Take all the time you need. It's okay if, in the end, you decide you'd rather take it slow, or just remain friends. But in the meantime, I hope to prove to you that I love you and that I'm not going anywhere. Perhaps, umm, if you read the letter—"
She was trembling. "You…you're choosing me?"
"Yes, I am."
Tears filled her eyes, realizing how badly she'd been hurt, and needed to hear it. "You want me?"
He sighed, wrapping her in his arms. "Yes," He leaned his forehead against hers. "Always. I promise, cross my heart."
Tears slipped down her cheeks, and he smiled softly as she wiped them away.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he said. "If that's okay."
She nodded, and he drew her closer. Harry pressed his lips to hers, softly and gently. She leaned in as he kissed her again, his hand cradling her neck. Each kiss was slow, but intense, and she felt herself slowly unravelling. "Hermione," he murmured breathlessly. "I love you. And even after the stars burn out of the sky, I'll never get enough of you."
They stayed in each other's arms for what felt like forever, exploring each other with breathless excitement. As her tears dried, Hermione found it so freeing to touch him. He was finally hers, and she didn't have to hold back anymore. She giggled and ran fingers through his hair, and his breath caught as she nibbled his lip. He gazed at her in surprise, but she just smiled. You're mine, she thought.
Harry deepened their kisses, and the shock of it swept through her, felt so wonderful she couldn't even think. She sighed as his lips moved to her neck, then they heard footsteps.
"How's our patient doing?" said the healer. "Let's see…"
They held each other, hearts pounding with fear of discovery. Harry snuck a quick kiss on her cheek.
"Wasn't Hermione supposed to be here?" said another voice. "They're looking for her."
Hermione's heart stopped. The meeting.
They left shortly after, and Hermione turned to Harry. "They're waiting on me."
"I know," he said. "But before you go…are you at least a little more convinced now of my affections for you?"
She smiled. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe."
He sighed, snuggling against her neck. "I'll just have to keep working on that later, then."
She laughed softly, even as her heart ached.
"Let's go, then," he said, his smile slightly bitter. "Don't want you to be late."
###
Hermione and Tonks walked together into the conference room, taking their seats at the oblong table. At first, Hermione thought they must be early, because so many of the chairs were empty. Then, in a moment of stunned silence, she realized that those gathered were the only ones left.
She took a shallow breath. Or they could be in the hospital, too sick to attend the meeting. Like Cedric, or Madam Bones…
Hermione turned as the door opened, and an Unspeakable was half-carried in, supported by two Aurors. Gingerly, they eased him into a chair near the head of the table. Beside him sat Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody, an eye patch over his right eye, his face set into a deep scowl.
Hermione saw that Remus was in the room, along with several other Aurors and Ministry executives. She glanced around at a few people, but nobody met her eyes. Everything, for a few moments, was quiet. Then, Kingsley stood up.
"I regret to inform you that Minister Scrimgeour died in the hospital at around 8:00 pm, from injuries sustained in the attack. According to the chain of succession, I am now the acting head of the Ministry of Magic. We have a lot to discuss this evening concerning the attack, but let me start by saying that I am proud to serve with each and every one of you. I admire your bravery, I mourn your losses, and I am humbled to lead you in this difficult time. I will give my all for the Ministry, and I will do it with honour. Now, let us begin." He turned to Remus Lupin. "As a researcher for the Department of Mysteries, please explain to everyone what we have learned about the Ministry attack."
Remus stood up, regarding everyone at the table for a moment. "As you know, there are twelve rooms in the Department of Mysteries, each one containing valuable artefacts from before the time of Merlin. They are very powerful and dangerous, so we keep most of them inactive. Two were in use at the time of the attack: the Veil of Death and the Orb of Time.
He shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. "You may have heard of the Veil of Death, which is rumoured to be a portal between this life and the next. This is not true. Though for ethical reasons we have never tested it, the Unspeakables know its real purpose. The Veil...performs human sacrifice for the purpose of attaining power."
The room was silent as he went on. "At around 8:00 pm, Auror Karen Barnes entered the Death Chamber as a replacement guard. She activated the Veil and disappeared into the machine. Immediately afterwards, Bellatrix Black destroyed the Ministry's foundation. With the warding weakened, insurgents were able to break through and attack the Ministry. Dementors also flooded the area, but most have been driven back for now."
One of the seated members raised a hand. "So…what you're saying is one person's death caused the Ministry to collapse? It has stood for nearly a thousand years, through war and destruction. How is this possible?"
"Yes," said the Head Unspeakable, his voice weak and raspy. "This is…restricted knowledge…for a reason. If channelled correctly, a single death…can raze cities. The traditional number of sacrifices…for great magic…is merely seven. And our Ministry was created…through the sacrifice of…one."
"Thank you for your answer," said Auror Kingsley. "And thank you, Auror Chambers, but I would like to ask everyone to please hold further questions until the end. Remus, please continue."
He nodded. "Aside from the Veil, there was a second artefact in use in the Ministry, known as the Orb of Time. Its use was less understood, but the Unspeakables were attempting to create a pocket dimension. In theory, the Ministry could spend a year in this time pocket, but only a second would pass outside. If worse came to worse, we could hide for a while, prepare, and then leave once we were ready to face our enemy.
"Excuse me," said Auror Chambers. "But that is nuts."
"Mr. Chambers…"
"No, he's right," said Remus. "It was very dangerous, but the Unspeakables were careful. They did nothing that could potentially disturb time or harm the Ministry, even though it hindered their work. The only thing they did wrong was leaving the Orb of Time activated."
Remus's eyes scanned the table. "Time isn't a force that's well understood by anyone, but we do know some things. The closest analogy I can think of is a river flowing downhill. A river is full of possibility and strength, but like water, it is not always completely stable. If a storm happens and water rises too high, it can become a torrent and destroy everything around it.
"Whatever happened to the Ministry has damaged the device. It continues running and building up more energy and power, but the energy has nowhere to go. It is seeping into the ground and saturating the air. That is why the ground is hot and why we have noticed odd things happening in the area. If we do nothing, the energy will continue to build up until it collapses in on itself. When that happens, whatever is inside the blast area will be destroyed or sent outside of time, we don't know which."
Hermione spoke up. "I'm sorry, I know I'm interrupting but...I think it's important that we're specific. How powerful would the explosion be if it went off right now? Is it increasing linearly or exponentially? How much time do we have before it reaches critical mass?"
Kingsley sighed, admitting defeat. He turned to Remus. "What do we know?"
"Well...I'm not sure if I have a satisfactory answer for you, but I'll try. Magic is not easy to measure, which has historically limited the research we've been able to conduct. However, based on measurements from half an hour ago, we estimated that the power accumulated is enough to destroy London. It seems to be growing in erratic bursts, doubling or tripling in strength every 6 hours. Unless it's deliberately released it will continue expanding until it destabilises within a week or two, but after a few days it will be the difference between destroying the city or the entire country.
"So, as of right now, we have two options. If we deactivate the Orb of Time and release the energy slowly, then we can defuse the bomb. The other option is to trigger the explosion immediately. This will mean sacrificing London, but it is better than waiting until the bomb reaches critical mass. Then we'd be looking at a large enough explosion to devastate the entire continent. That's if we're lucky."
Kingsley spoke up. "We want to go with option A, the one that doesn't send everyone in London to their deaths, but that comes with its own challenges. A strike team would have to enter the 9th floor of the Ministry to stabilize the devices. Temperatures inside are at least a thousand degrees Fahrenheit. The person would also be constantly exposed to dangerous amounts of radiant magical energy. Anyone who goes inside will be flooded with it, and it will rip their body apart from the inside out. They would die within a few minutes."
Hermione spoke up again, "What if the person didn't have to go inside? Could a drone or…puppet of some kind enter the facility and disable it remotely?"
The Head Unspeakable answered in a weak voice, "Disabling them…requires the touch of a magic user…and spoken words of power."
"Yes," said Moody. "And to answer everyone's next question, Apparating to the 9th floor to reach the artifacts quickly is too risky. The radiant magic in the area is extremely volatile, and since Apparition requires a burst of strong magic, it could trigger the explosion. Our safest course of action is to have someone enter from the first floor and walk all the way to the 9th, casting no magic until absolutely necessary."
Moody was silent for a moment. "There is only one person here who could come in and out alive, and that person is Hermione Granger. She has regenerative abilities, and enough strength to sustain her for the duration of the trip. We know what magic was used to create her, and if we were able to physically modify others in the same way, they might survive long enough to finish the job."
It took a second for it to click, but Hermione's eyes went wide when she realized what he was really saying.
Tonks spoke first. "Have you found a way to make the transformation permanent, like it is with Hermione?"
"No," said Mad Eye. "We cannot. Anyone who is magically modified would die within twelve hours and become Inferi. It is a suicide mission."
Everyone was silent for a long moment. Then, Kingsley spoke up, "I know this is a lot to take in, but I believe it is our best chance of saving everyone. The modifications will give them the strength to complete the mission. All we need are a few brave men."
"I can go in alone," Hermione said. "No one else needs to die."
She could tell by their sombre faces that no one agreed to this idea.
"We can't send you in by yourself," said Moody, shaking his head. "You don't know the layout of the Ministry, and at sixteen, your magic might not be strong enough to cast the necessary spells. If our plan fails, we won't have time to mount a second expedition. We need to do this now, and we need to be successful on the first try."
"Are you sure about this?" asked Tonks. "The ritual requires…umm…the flesh of a troll and a unicorn."
"If it's the ingredients you're concerned about, then don't worry about that," grumbled Mad Eye. "I can find them."
Kingsley spread his hands, "I'm opening the floor now for discussion. If anyone has any better ideas besides ours, then please suggest them. If not…then we will proceed immediately to selecting volunteers for the mission."
A few people spoke, offering half-hearted suggestions. Various protection magics, different routes of entry into the Ministry. Hermione could see that none of them would work. She kept racking her brain for a solution that didn't require sacrifice and dark magic. Maybe Muggle radiation suits? But did that even work for magical radiation, whatever that was? If it was anything like ionizing radiation, then the answer was no. To say nothing of the heat problem, which required an entirely different protective suit. Even if she could cobble something together, she was certain the Ministry would perform the ritual anyway, and everyone in those suits would still die.
Time ran out as the room fell silent.
"How many people do we need to send inside?" Mad Eye asked the Head Unspeakable.
"Six," he said, his voice a bit stronger than before. "The Orb of Time requires…at least two people…to shut it down. But you must also…turn off…the Veil of Death. So three people…six for redundancy."
"Very well," said Mad Eye softly. "Then, I volunteer myself as one of those to go into the Ministry. I'm old enough that I have enough magical strength to handle the transformation."
Hermione saw Tonks clench her fingers. But otherwise, the room was silent.
"I will go," said Kingsley. "I said it before that I am here to serve, and I will hold to my promise. I will protect those who are going inside."
"We need someone who knows the layout of the Department of Mysteries," said Remus. "I volunteer myself as a guide."
Tonks shot to her feet. "Then I'm going too, because—"
"No, Tonks," said Mad Eye gruffly. "You're too young."
"That doesn't matter!"
Kingsley raised his hand. "Tonks, we will vote to decide the final six who will go. Please sit down."
She sat down, staring at the table with eyes red with rage. Hermione squeezed her hand.
In the end, there were twelve volunteers. The six chosen included Hermione, Remus, Kingsley, and three older Aurors. Mad Eye was rejected because his Auror status and knowledge of dark magic was considered too useful. Remus was almost rejected because he was a werewolf, but Mad Eye confirmed it wouldn't interfere with the change. Hermione was the youngest by several decades, and the only girl.
Plans were made to convene again in the early morning, and the meeting was adjourned. The six were asked to remain behind. Hermione turned to say something to Tonks, but she'd already stormed out of the room.
###
Harold Shacklebolt watched as his brother raised his hand for the pact that would end his life. He almost rose from his chair to do the same himself, but something stopped him. At first, he was ashamed to think it was cowardice, but as he kept ruminating, he realized that he had an idea.
Maybe he could save everyone.
As they left the room, he joined himself in lockstep beside Tonks. "I think I know a way to help the ones who are going inside. But it's dangerous."
Tonks stopped, then turned and walked down a less frequented corridor, casting a quieting charm over them. "Tell me."
"We'll have to sneak out to investigate a crime scene. It's a long shot, but we might find information there that can improve their chances. Or they might not have to go in at all."
Tonks nodded. "You had me at 'sneak out.' Let's go."
###
Harry's feet tapped the floor as he sat outside the conference room, his wand twirling in his hand.
He'd been waiting for over an hour, and each tick of the clock was killing him. He felt sure that in some alternate universe, he would have been in that meeting. He would be discussing problems, strategizing, doing something useful besides staring at the carpet. The fact that he wasn't showed he'd been born in a stupid timeline where he had about as much political clout as a goldfish.
But if anyone thought that would stop him, they didn't know Harry James Potter Evans Verres.
Harry had asked for and obtained from the Healers a powerful draught of rejuvenation potion. He'd also cast several vitality spells on himself, while carefully monitoring his vital signs. It was finally time to test it.
He practiced the wand movements one more time, thought of his memory of the stars, of a world he wished to save. He stood, cast the Patronus spell, his shout muffled by a quieting charm.
Nothing happened.
He tried, again and again. Harry even tried talking to his Patronus, arguing with him, but the Patronus never appeared. With a frustrated sigh, he kicked the chair leg, then sat down almost hard enough to break the chair. Folding his arms, he went back to brooding, his thoughts taking a dark turn.
Harry couldn't stop thinking of all the ways he'd screwed up. All this time, he had a Patronus and used it for nothing, not even bothering to do proper experiments. He'd never attempted to exhaust himself before casting his Patronus, never planned for the possibility it might simply vanish. What a massive oversight and flaw in his thinking, acting as if the Patronus belonged to him and could never be lost. Now he had no choice but to figure out how to find it again.
The words echoed in his mind. There is…a possible alternative to saving lives at the Ministry. It requires a sacrifice of your life points, but your death is unlikely.
If he'd lost life points, then what could he do to earn them back? Felix Felicis could give him a boost, though it would cause bad luck if he used too much. He had a short list of healing spells and energy spells he intended to try, along with some proximity experiments with a normal Patronus. But when he considered the situation as a whole, he thought it almost literarily convenient that his superpower had disappeared the moment he needed it. It was as if his Patronus did not want to be found.
Harry gripped his wand tight in his hand, then loosened as the wood creaked. Maybe he needed to switch tactics. He closed his eyes and thought back to what he'd heard, searching for hidden clues.
Rule (Line of Merlin) does not authorize lifting port key ban.
Line of Merlin…well, there were already enough literary conventions running amok in his life, what was one more? On the off chance he really was the secret heir, could that help? Harry gave it a solid think, but with a ruined Ministry and Hogwarts far away, he doubted it counted for much at this point. It might give him enough standing to attend the Auror meetings, but he would have to provide more proof than a voice in his head. It would go on the back burner for now.
His warding abilities? Well, he was beginning to have his doubts there too. He'd tried to unward several locked doors in St. Mungos—which would have been child's play in Hogwarts—and received nothing but a headache. If his warding abilities came from being the heir…which was possible…did that mean they only worked in certain locations? Another thing he'd never thought to test until now.
He let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at the closed doorway. The worst thing of all was knowing Hermione was in there, fighting to save the world alone, and he couldn't think of a single thing he could do to help her.
Harry shook his head. No, that was impossible. There must be something…what about partial transfiguration? He could always transfigure a lead suit, step outside with a Geiger counter and pyrometer, and try to make sense of the ruin in the ground.
He was still thinking when the conference room door finally opened, letting out a stream of people, but Hermione was not among them. He frowned as he examined the solemn group, read the despondent sadness on their faces. As they walked out of sight, he heard soft sobs.
Finally, about ten minutes later, Hermione left the room. He stood up, dispelling the quieting charm, and called her name. She turned to him and walked over slowly, her eyes burning red.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Harry…it's awful." Her fists tightened. "The Ministry is a toxic wasteland that's about to blow up, and the only solution we have is absolutely terrible! We don't even know if this plan will work, but if it doesn't, then we're going to blow up London—and we can't even evacuate fast enough if we tried-"
"Hermione, slow down," he said, glancing around. "Come here."
Harry led her to a chair, had her sit, facing away from the conference room. She leaned her head into his shoulder and didn't speak for a moment, and he didn't press her, though he was desperate to know what happened.
After a moment, she told him about the artefacts that were causing the destruction, their plan to save London, along with the names of the six who had been chosen to fix it. Harry felt a pang at the thought of losing Remus.
"Mad Eye held us back after the meeting," whispered Hermione. "And told us about his idea to create a Horcrux for each of us. He said…we might not be able to survive the magical radiation for longer periods, so it would give us a second chance, but…" Hermione's face grew hard. "I refused mine. It almost caused an argument, but then Remus backed me up, and Kingsley. I don't think they want a Horcrux made either. Why kill six more people, just to save us for a few extra minutes? Isn't killing three extra people enough redundancy?
Twelve lives versus millions, thought Harry. But he didn't say it, because it wasn't about numbers. He'd be lying if he said he didn't value Hermione's life over thousands.
"I know it's the most logical choice," said Hermione. "I know we're facing a very serious problem, and failure is not an option, no matter what we have to sacrifice. But it still seems wrong to me, Harry. I can't shake the feeling that relying on dark rituals will only make things worse. I just couldn't think of a better plan, and now it's too late."
Harry's hands were clasped in hers, her head leaning against his shoulder. She sat up, a light of realization crossing her face. "Your Patronus, Harry."
"I know," he said, with a weary sigh. "It could revive those killed to make the Horcrux, at the very least."
"But we don't know all of its abilities," said Hermione, a spark of hope in her voice. "If we could talk to it…him, maybe he could help us solve this problem. And since he's shown the ability to operate remotely, maybe we could send the Patronus in instead of a human. Even with the restrictions on it being a magic user, it still might work!"
He smiled bitterly. "I like the way you're thinking, Hermione, but I've been trying to cast the spell for the last hour, and my Patronus still hasn't made an appearance. I certainly don't plan to give up, but I'm starting to think the best course of action might be to focus on teaching you the Patronus."
She frowned. "But I've tried to learn it for years, and I've made no progress at all."
"Well, I seem to remember us having one 15 minute session together," Harry pointed out. "I don't know how much practice you did without me, but we've hardly exhausted all our options. Besides, if I just lost my Patronus, literary convention suggests you're about to find yours. More to the point, I know you can do it, Hermione."
"Maybe, but I don't even know if I'll have time to…" She bit her lip. "It could be as soon as the morning. They just need to finish the…transformations."
He took a moment to absorb this news. Then, he said, "Well, if we don't have much time, then we'll have to make the most effective use of it that we can. Come on, let's go see if we can crack the secret of the Patronus."
###
Author's Note: Happy Harmony New Year! :D
