Once more, My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.

Chapter 8: The Retired Gentleman

Near Savernake Forest, Wiltshire, Britain, July 10th, 2005

"Hey." Ron reached out, but Granger shook her head before he touched her. Another flashback. So much for the quality of her therapist. On the other hand, she couldn't have told them what she had really experienced, of course.

"Sorry… I know that name," she said.

"Oh?" Luna perked up. "Friend or foe?"

Granger took a deep breath. "He was the Headmaster of my school. And the leader of the Order of the Phoenix." And, obviously, dead in her world. "The only man, or so it was said, who Voldemort ever feared."

"Yet, he died, and Riddle lived," Harry not-quite-asked in a bitter voice.

Ron pressed his lips together - the failure, as Harry saw it, of the police to stop Riddle before he managed to murder the Potters was a very sore point for his friend.

Granger narrowed her eyes at him. "He was cursed in a trap. He was never defeated in open combat."

"It's not very useful to win every fight yet lose the war," Harry pointed out.

"We hadn't lost the war when I was transported to this world," Granger retorted, scowling now.

"But you didn't think much of your chances," Harry shot back.

Ron cleared his throat. "Let's focus on the current problem. What do we do about this meeting?" He quickly typed: Please wait a minute.

Ok, son.

"I think we should meet Dumbledore," Granger said, with another glare at Harry.

"Based on his counterpart being your teacher?" Harry didn't bother hiding his doubts, Ron noticed.

"Based on the fact that Arth…" She looked at Ron. "That your father is asking for a meeting, and that Albus Dumbledore was very important in my world. While, as I said before, repeatedly, I might add, we cannot trust someone just because their counterpart was someone I trusted, so far there has been a correlation in both trustworthiness and influence. Bones, Scrimgeour, Yaxley."

"It could be a trap," Harry retorted. "Arthur might trust whoever is behind this, but he could be mistaken."

Ron wanted to defend Dad, but he had to admit that that was possible. Not aloud, though. "We will have to scout out the area for ambushes."

"You want to go, then?" Luna asked. She sounded quite eager.

"The area, the manor - that's a lot to cover," Harry replied. "And if it's a trap by the police, they'll have the SAS dropping down on us from a chopper."

That was a sobering thought. Ron knew he wasn't a slouch in a fight, but to go up against those blokes... "But we have an advantage they can't anticipate," Ron retorted with a grin.

"Yes! Magic!" Luna pumped her fist.

Harry, though, frowned, and Granger didn't look quite as enthusiastic as Luna. "My magical means are very limited," she said. "I can't just snap my fingers and reveal a trap."

"But you can read thoughts, can't you?" Harry challenged her. "If you can rearrange thoughts, you can read them as well."

Granger blinked. "It doesn't work like that. One is a charm, and the other is a skill you have to learn."

"What?" Ron blurted out. "You mean you manipulate memories without knowing what they are?"

Granger winced. "Yes. It's often very crude and blunt."

Oh my God. Ron couldn't imagine that. Well, he could, actually - but it wasn't a pleasant thought.

"The Obliviators mostly just remove a few minutes of someone's memory and confund them. Muggles usually make up explanations for whatever happened," Granger said.

That didn't make it sound it any better. He focused on the problem at hand. "Can you turn us invisible?"

"Not without a wand," she replied. "I don't have an invisibility cloak, and if I had one, it would have faded by now - they don't last long. I cannot teleport, either - well, I could make an attempt, but it might leave parts of us behind. Such as an arm or leg. That's called splinching."

Ron wasn't the only one who winced at that.

"So... what can you do with your magic?" Harry asked.

Granger pressed her lips together, then sighed. "I have various potions. It depends on what you need. A way to infiltrate the manor, or a way to escape?"

"Both," Harry told her with a toothy smile.

She pressed her lips together. "I have a limited supply of Shrinking Solution. I prefer the Shrinking Charm, but I acquired these from… someone who had no further use for any of his possessions."

"Waste not, want not," Ron said. "So, how much does one shrink after drinking one?"

"It depends on how much you drink, but you can reduce a cow to the size of a mouse."

"Wow!" Luna clapped her hands together. "Imagine how you could spy on someone with that!"

"Just check whether they have a cat or dog, or another pet, first," Granger said.

"Oh."

"Well, we have our escape plan," Ron announced.

"We do?" Luna asked, cocking her head as she looked at him. Granger and Harry weren't as obvious, but they were looking at him with similar expressions.

"Yes," Ron replied. "All we need is an RC helicopter - and someone at the controls."

"I don't think the SAS or whoever might be ambushing us would let an RC helicopter get close," Granger pointed out.

"That's why you'll be carrying it in your bag. We can use some other of your surprises to gain enough time to drink the potions and get on the chopper," Ron said.

Harry, of course, didn't like the plan. But after thrashing out the details and a few contingencies - they couldn't count on radios working inside the manor, after all - Luna and, more importantly, Granger were on board. And so Ron messaged Dad that they'd be there tomorrow.

While Granger, prodded not-too-subtly by a hovering Luna, was noting down some of her old friends and allies, Ron went to find Harry, who had gone 'to check the perimeter'. Which, given that Luna had placed more cameras in the area than you could find in the City, meant that Ron's friend had gone to brood.

Ron climbed the stairs, checked the screen at the top for witnesses, then stepped out and took a deep breath. Even close to the dusty barn, the air smelt fresher than below - Luna had gone to great lengths, but filters could only do so much.

"Am I needed downstairs?"

Good, Ron thought as he turned, He hasn't left the barn for the woods. There Ron's friend stood, leaning against a support pillar in the middle of the barn. "No, Granger's still working on her list," Ron told him as he walked over.

Harry snorted. "Luna's not helping, huh?"

Ron pressed his lips together for a moment. Luna was a great friend, and she meant well. And, as far as he could tell, Granger was aware of that.

"Sorry," Harry said.

Ron grunted. Harry didn't mean it. "So, what are you brooding about?" As he'd known, Harry frowned at him and didn't answer. "Missing Ginny?"

"You already asked me that."

"And you didn't answer," Ron retorted.

"Of course I miss her!" Harry snarled.

"Sorry." Ron held up his hands. But he had to ask. "Should I have asked Dad to pass on a message while we were talking?" Harry hadn't said anything, but Ron could have asked - if he had thought of it.

"No." Harry shook his head, then brushed a dust mite off his sleeve. "I'll ask myself next time. Provided that the meeting isn't a trap."

"It shouldn't be." If Dad was compromised… Ron didn't want to think about what that would mean. For them, and for his family.

His friend snorted. "We were attacked at our last meeting. And Bones knew what she was doing."

"There was also a traitor in CI5, probably close to her," Ron pointed out.

Harry pushed off the pillar. "Let's hope whoever is after us will keep making mistakes."

"We have our escape plan ready," Ron replied.

"Getting shrunk and then on to an RC helicopter."

"It was your idea to use magic," he pointed out.

"I was thinking of some way to detect enemies. Or take them out," Harry said. "Not of… getting turned into a mouse."

"Transfigured," Ron told him. "That's the technical term, I believe."

"You've been talking to Granger a lot."

"Yes." Ron let out his breath through briefly clenched teeth. "Knowing what magic can and can't do is important if we plan to depend on it."

Harry grunted, looking at - or acting as if he were - a broken-down tractor.

"You know, magic has laws and limits. And Granger can't just snap her fingers and alter reality," Ron said. If Harry would make the attempt, he could probably figure out a lot.

"Does she have a nice handbook with all the rules in it, too?"

Ron rolled his eyes at the remark. "Very funny." He stepped closer to Harry. "Seriously, stop being so difficult about it. We need to be on top of our game if we want to make it through this."

"'Our game'. Very funny," Harry said, but he was grinning. Then he sighed. "I know. I just hate not knowing anything about magic."

"Well, learn?" Ron shrugged. "Granger can help you."

"She certainly likes to give lessons," Harry said, grinning again.

Ron frowned, then shrugged. It was true, after all - he had thought so himself. But he still didn't like hearing it from Harry. "Let's go downstairs before Luna convinces Granger to curse the government."

"I thought she couldn't do that?"

"She's not supposed to be able to, no."

"But you don't believe it?" Harry asked as the door swung open and revealed the staircase below.

"I think she's holding some things back ," Ron said.

"Ah."

Ron nodded. It was only natural - as Moody had taught them, you never showed your full hand until it was absolutely necessary.

"So, you can't create food out of thin air, but you can enlarge and multiply existing food," Harry said half an hour later, still taking notes.

"Yes. One of the Five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law," Granger replied.

"But you can create water."

"Yes."

"So, it's food that's special. Not the matter itself." Harry made another note.

"Yes."

"And you could transfigure the water to oil."

"Yes."

"Which is food, provided it's the right kind of oil."

"It wouldn't be edible," Granger said.

"Does that mean it can't be ingested, or that it shouldn't be ingested? And what happens if you mix it with real oil?" Harry leaned forward, just like he usually did when he had caught something during an interrogation.

"Your body will not derive any sustenance from it. But it will not suddenly turn to poison in someone's body."

"So you couldn't - if you had a wand - transfigure, say, mercury into water and add it to someone's drink, then let it transform back and watch them die?" Ron's friend sounded disappointed.

"No, you couldn't. But there are dozens of magical poisons if you need to kill someone."

"And how many do you have on you?"

"A few." Granger sounded a little cagey.

"Enough to, say, contaminate an entire water supply?" Harry asked.

"It would depend on the size."

"But could you enlarge the vial?"

"With magical substances, that's very difficult. Theoretically possible, but few would make the attempt."

Ron wanted to hit himself. He should have known this would happen.

"It's like the Final Fantasy Debacle," Luna whispered next to him.

He frowned at her, which didn't impress her in the slightest. And she was correct. Ron had spent two months trying to get Harry to play Final Fantasy Legend 2, back in school, and once Harry had - finally! - tried the game out, he had quickly monopolised Ron's Gameboy. Until Sirius had bought Harry a Gameboy of his own, at least.

Well, Granger wasn't a Gameboy, of course. Still… Ron felt the same urge to punch Harry that he had felt back then.

And Granger still hadn't finished her list.

Mould-on-the-Wold, Gloucestershire, Britain, July 11th, 2005

"What do you see? Do you see anything? I didn't see anything."

"I don't see anything suspicious," Ron told Luna. He refrained from adding: 'As I told you five minutes ago' - she was a little excited.

"That doesn't mean that there isn't anything suspicious," Harry said, lowering his binoculars.

A competent ambush wouldn't be very easy to detect, Ron knew. But they had circled the village and then the manor for an hour, at a safe distance, and hadn't spotted anything. "If there's a trap, it's probably inside the manor," he said. "And we can't do much about that. But this is a good spot for Luna to control our getaway chopper."

"Yes! It's in range of the remote, and we can hide the getaway car nearby!" Luna agreed.

Ron was quite relieved that she was enthusiastic about her role, instead of complaining about missing out on the first meeting with Dad's mysterious contact. But he didn't want Luna anywhere near a potential fight - she wasn't trained for that, and she didn't have Granger's experience, either. But she was the best RC pilot they had, Harry's opinion that just because he could fly a plane meant he could fly an RC chopper as well notwithstanding.

"Testing, testing," Luna said.

Ron heard her through the bud in his ear, and, of course, normally as well. "It works," he told her. At her pout, he lowered his voice, looked down, where he was wearing a wire under his shirt, and whispered: "It works."

"Great! All set here!"

"Do you have the pouch with the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder?" Granger asked - not for the first time, either. Ron still couldn't tell if she didn't trust anyone else to know what they were doing with the magic powder or because she needed to distract herself so she wouldn't work herself into a nervous frenzy. Not that she wasn't coming close right now anyway.

"Yes!" Luna announced, holding up a small bag. "I'm ready to work magic!"

"Good. Remember, you won't be able to see anything either."

Distraction, Ron decided. Definitely distraction.

"Alright," Harry said. "Let's get this show on the road."

Ron snorted. Cheesy movie quotes were usually his shtick. Perhaps Harry was a little nervous as well. "Literally," he said - they had to go back to where they had hidden the other car, then drive up to the manor. "Keep an eye on the house, but don't expose yourself, OK?" he told Luna.

She laughed. "I've been spying on people for years! Only on corrupt government people, of course."

"That's reassuring to know," Harry said, deadpan.

Luna smiled widely at him. "I know! That's why I said it!"

Ron chuckled at Harry's face, and, after a moment, Luna joined him. To his surprise, even Granger laughed - briefly. Though she gave him a weird look, too, he noticed.

Twenty minutes later, they watched the gates of the manor open as soon as they drove up to it. Someone was watching them - probably watching all approaches to the manor. It's what Ron would have done in their place.

"I wonder if my Dumbledore had a manor as well," Granger said. "He lived at Hogwarts, so it never came up. But this… it's not up to Malfoy's standard, but the owner must be quite quite well-off."

"It's a lot classier than Malfoy's," Harry said as he parked the car next to a sports car. "His dad only married Narcissa so he would get someone with a sense of style in the family."

That was Sirius's opinion, of course. Which wasn't always reliable. "It wasn't hereditary, then," Ron replied. "Remember Malfoy's green suit?"

Both of them laughed at the memory as they got out of the car, followed by Granger. Sunglasses and caps hid their faces, wigs their hair - though Granger's hair had put up quite the resistance.

Before they could take more than a few steps towards the house, a door opened.

"Side entrance," Ron commented. It was more discreet - although anyone observing the manor would spot them entering anyway. And he couldn't see anyone waiting there for them. Of course, they were covered by cameras. One in the open, and, as far as he could tell, two more hidden.

"Will you come into my parlour?" Harry joked.

"We're not flies," Granger said.

"But I'd like to be a fly on the wall!" Luna commented in Ron's ear. "Well, I am, actually. Unless the manor is radio-proof."

He suppressed a chuckle. "Let's go, shall we?"

They entered the manor. The door closed behind them, and they still didn't see anyone.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Ron heard a voice say.

Granger jerked. She whispered something under her breath that Ron didn't catch.

"Please join me in the living room," the voice went on as another door opened, revealing a corridor. Someone had spent a lot of money on this house. And, seeing as Luna was quiet, they had probably lost radio contact. He signalled the others - they would have to adjust their plans accordingly.

Ron walked closer to Granger as they entered the hallway, but she didn't say anything else before they reached the end of the corridor, and another door swung open, revealing a large living room, with old-fashioned furniture and heavy drapes covering the windows.

An old man sitting in a large armchair rose as they entered and nodded at them. "Dr Granger. Mr Potter. Mr Weasley." He was wearing expensive, if understated, clothes and had a short, well-trimmed beard.

"Dumbledore," Granger said - Ron heard her draw a deep breath. "Albus Dumbledore."

The man smiled. "I'm impressed - few would recognise me. I did make an effort to disappear from the public eye."

Granger shook her head. "I didn't know… I mean..."

The man's smile widened. "Now I'm intrigued."

Ron almost moved to interpose himself between the old man and Granger before he could control himself.

"Intrigued?" Granger asked, suddenly sounding more wary - or worried.

"If you didn't know my past, then how did you recognise me?" Dumbledore's smile didn't change as he pushed up his half-moon reading glasses.

Granger didn't seem to have an answer, so Ron spoke up: "She didn't say that."

The old man - he had to be at least seventy - inclined his head. "Yet she denied having researched me, didn't she?"

Ron didn't glare at her. That was an old trick he wouldn't fall for.

"Why did you want to meet us?" Granger asked. It looked like she had recovered her composure. And her attitude. Good.

Dumbledore gestured to the couch in the room. "Will you take a seat? I've found it's more comfortable and more productive, usually, to talk while everyone's sitting."

Ron hadn't spotted any hidden shooters nor any traps - but that didn't mean much. You could hide a lot in your flat if you had enough time.

"I prefer to stand," Harry said, leaning against the wall next to the door, arms crossed - with his hand next to his shoulder holster.

"By all means," Dumbledore said, still smiling - rather condescendingly, in Ron's opinion.

But Granger was sitting down, so Ron followed her example, taking a seat next to her on the couch.

"I would offer you some refreshments, but I think you would refuse them, at least for now."

Ron pressed his lips together. He didn't like the man's attitude. But he liked the fact that Dumbledore seemed to know so much about them even less. "How do you know my father?" Dad had never mentioned Dumbledore. "And where is he?"

"Arthur couldn't shake the people keeping him under observation," Dumbledore told him. "You can speak to him through the phone on the table, though. As to how I know him… I helped him out of a tight spot some time ago. A sticky situation, but I managed to solve it."

"So he owed you," Harry said as Ron grabbed the phone and sent Dad a quick message using another of the signs from the signs and countersigns his father had taught Ron and his siblings. Within a second, he received the countersign and sighed in relief. He would hold off speaking to Dad until Dumbledore wasn't listening in.

"He thinks he does. I was just doing what was right." Dumbledore said, apparently not paying attention to Ron.

Granger made a choking noise in response to that.

"Dr Granger?" Of course the old man wouldn't miss that. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said - though Ron could almost feel her tension. "Who are you?"

"A good question. I'd like to say that I'm a retired gentleman." Dumbledore chuckled. "It's true - from a certain point of view."

Now he was quoting Star Wars? Ron glared at him.

Which Dumbledore seemed to find amusing. "I'm sorry - at my age, one is bound to become a little eccentric." He sighed. "But I digress. So, I was the Chief of the Secret Intelligence Service for a rather troubled time in the eighties."

The man had been the boss of MI6? The infamous 'C'? Ron tensed. That meant the old man would be prepared for a fight. He glanced around, but he still couldn't spot any sign of a trap or an ambush. But opening the windows and fleeing by air might be more difficult than they had anticipated.

"And what do you want?" Granger asked.

"I could say I want to help deal with a quite embarrassing situation for the government - not that Downing Street or my successors would acknowledge, much less thank, me - but it's mostly to satisfy my curiosity," Dumbledore said. He leaned forward and steepled his hands. "Even after retirement, I kept an ear to the ground, so to speak. In my business, it pays to keep abreast of developments, lest you find yourself out in the cold and being hunted."

Ron clenched his teeth at the implied criticism. There wasn't anything they could have done.

"So when I heard that certain, shall we say, assets of former opponents of mine were being sent to England to hunt down a physicist, shortly followed by the murders of senior police officers, I began to wonder exactly why people were going to such great lengths in your case, Dr Granger."

"'Former opponents'?" Harry asked.

"The Cold War ended shortly after my official retirement, leaving a number of very capable - and dangerous - assets bereft of gainful employment by the state they had served. Many of them decided to enter the private sector. As did some of their superiors." He shook his head. "Given my past, it was only logical to keep an eye on them."

"What… Are you telling me that the Russian Mafia is hunting me?" Granger sounded as if she couldn't believe it.

"That is exactly what I'm saying, my dear. Although parts of the Russian government have close ties to them as well, so they might just be a front. However, that doesn't answer the most important question: why?" He looked at Granger, slightly tilting his head.

"I don't know!" Granger replied - a little too forcefully, Ron thought.

"But I think you suspect." Dumbledore leaned back. "The theory that this is related to your kidnapping, as the media are so fond of speculating, can be safely dismissed, in my opinion. Almost ten years passing before someone moved against you? That would have been far too late to silence a witness, and far too long for the kind of obsessed criminal who couldn't let you get away. So this is either related to your private life or to your work. And, please excuse my bluntness, you don't have a private life."

Granger drew a sharp breath at that, and Ron thought her eyes were blazing, but she didn't contradict the old man.

"Which leaves your work." Dumbledore shook his head. "Research that, when it was first proposed, was criticised for its utter lack of practical application."

So he had investigated Granger thoroughly. Of course, for a man with his contacts, that probably didn't take much of an effort. Unless Dumbledore had treated his co-workers and colleagues with as much condescension as he was treating them, and they ignored him as soon as he retired.

"My work is well-documented as investigating a purely theoretical aspect of quantum physics," Granger replied - but a moment too late to sound completely natural.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well-documented doesn't mean that something is actually true, though, does it?"

Harry frowned, Ron saw, but this was on their heads as well - they had known that Granger wasn't the best liar. And facing a former head of the Secret Intelligence Service? Ron snorted, earning him a smile from Dumbledore and a glare from Granger and Harry.

"So what exactly did you discover that has attracted such attention?"

Granger hesitated. Ron saw her open her mouth, but she didn't start speaking. Instead, she glanced at him and at Harry. Harry kept scowling - at Dumbledore, now. But the old man didn't seem to be impressed at all.

Ron sighed. "Dad trusts him, or he wouldn't have arranged this meeting," he told them.

Dumbledore didn't seem to mind the rudeness. A pity - Ron would have liked to get back at the man, a little at least.

Granger looked at Harry. Ron's friend scoffed.

The witch frowned, then, after another glance at Ron, turned back to face Dumbledore and took a deep breath. "I'm working on opening a portal to a parallel world."

The old man's eyebrows rose, and his smile faded - although not completely. Then he stared at Granger for a few seconds, before he slowly nodded. "That makes sense. Your home world, I presume?"

Ron wasn't the only one gaping at him. "How…" He cut himself off by pressing his lips together.

Dumbledore smiled and answered anyway. "It was an educated guess, of course. But, once more, the key is in the wording. You, Dr Granger, spoke of 'a parallel world'. Why did you pick that term? Why not 'an alternate world'? Or 'another dimension'? You might be speculating, but I don't think you'd let your assumptions and theories be presented as facts, not even in this context. Which means you have some information on which you base your terms. If you had the ability to observe another world and revealed it, you would have earned yourself a Nobel prize for certain. Fame and fortune would have been yours."

"I'm not interested in either," Granger snapped.

"No, you aren't. Which is another clue. You keep your real research secret. Why would you do that? Why, indeed, if not to travel to another world yourself, without anyone the wiser?" He nodded. "You might have been afraid of the effect your work will have on the world. A way to travel to other earths? Different worlds? How tempting - and how dangerous. Would you usher in a new age of colonialism, or open our world to an invasion?"

Ron frowned. He should have been considering that - he had read enough sci-fi books, after all, with similar plots. And Granger was flinching.

"You could have stopped working. Destroyed your notes. Perhaps sought the patronage of the UN, to relieve yourself of your responsibility. Yet you continued. Why would you do that? You might simply be driven by intellectual curiosity or the desire to overcome the challenges such work represents. But I guessed that the real reason is that you want to return home." Dumbledore leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach. "And I guessed correctly, didn't I?"

Granger slumped and sighed. "Yes."

Dumbledore didn't quite gloat, but he nodded with a certain air of satisfaction which came close.

"But it's impossible for anyone else to know what I'm doing," Granger protested. "Not only have I not shared my notes with anyone, not even a computer, but without certain knowledge only I possess, the notes wouldn't make any sense."

"I would not dismiss that possibility out of hand, my dear," Dumbledore said. "You arrived in our world in 1998, didn't you? You weren't kidnapped for seven years, were you?"

"Yes, I did. I was mistaken for my counterpart. But I told my… her parents the truth as soon as I could."

"Well, I think you overlooked a possibility, my dear: What would someone who was certain that you were not the original Hermione Granger assume after you resurfaced?"

Ron shook his head. There was a problem with that assumption.

"Why would they have waited seven years, though?" Harry asked. "Her 'return' was national, even world-wide, news."

"Perhaps they weren't certain. Perhaps they - those who have the power to move against her - have only just recently come into possession of this information. Perhaps they previously thought you an impostor. But once someone is reasonably sure that you are another Hermione Granger they will come up with a very short list of possible explanations," Dumbledore replied. "Coupled with your work…" He spread his hands. "I don't think it would take a genius to work out that you are far more valuable than anyone else had realised."

'Valuable'? Ron narrowed his eyes. Dumbledore had just stressed how important the terms one used were, hadn't he?

Damn.

"They could assume that I'm a clone," Granger replied.

"That is possible," Dumbledore admitted, "but unlikely. Why would anyone have not only cloned a little girl who was kidnapped years ago, but keep it a secret, yet let the girl go?" He shook his head. "No, I think whoever is hunting you suspects what you are working on, even though they remain ignorant of the exact details behind it. Not unlike my own position," he added with a smile.

Fishing for more information. Two could play that game. "Not unlike our own position with regards to your intentions," Ron said before Granger could spill even more information.

"Touché," Dumbledore said, not losing his smile. Ron was starting to suspect that the man would keep smiling even in the face of death - his own or his enemies'.

"You've satisfied your curiosity," Harry told him with the hint of a sneer. "Mission accomplished."

"You know how things work in our business," Dumbledore replied. "The reward for a successful mission is another mission."

"And what mission would that be?" Ron asked, tensing up.

"Why, helping Dr Granger to finish her work, I think." Dumbledore tilted his head again. "Which includes clearing your names, of course."

How convenient! Ron almost scoffed openly. Helping the 'valuable' scientist...

Granger frowned. "Clearing our names should allow me to return to my lab. Yet you seem to imply that there's more to it."

"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded, appearing pleased - like one of Ron's old teachers when someone answered a question correctly. "You have, undoubtedly, realised just how important and dangerous your work is. As has your mysterious enemy. As long as they are not dealt with, you wouldn't be safe at your former place of work."

"My 'former place of work'?" Ah, there was Granger, finally showing some spine again!

"Correct. Even if this Russian connection is cut, which I trust will happen, with some help, a number of people will make similar deductions. At the very least, they will assume that your work isn't quite as boringly theoretical as you made it out to be. They will investigate. And while I don't doubt that you were quite clever, a thorough investigation will eventually uncover even the smallest of irregularities - those which would ordinarily be overlooked." The old man sighed. "I don't think you will be able to continue your work at your laboratory, even if the government will keep your parents safe."

Granger's face fell, and Ron saw her clench her fists. He understood her reaction - this was a huge setback. And something they should have realised themselves.

"And you have a solution for that?" Granger spat more than she said.

"I believe so. However, perhaps we should inform your backup that you haven't fallen into a trap?" Dumbledore said, raising his eyebrows.

"Our backup?" Harry asked, acting, quite convincingly, in Ron's opinion, as if he didn't know what Dumbledore was talking about.

"Please, Mr Potter. I'm familiar with your and Mr Weasley's efforts. I don't believe both of you would have entered my manor without having someone else ready to come to your rescue."

Ron really, really hated the man's smug smile and patronising manner. At least he hadn't deduced Luna's identity. Or, Ron thought, that's what he wants us to think…

On the other hand, they had already told him almost everything, and he hadn't sprung a trap on them. But to reveal Luna? No. Certainly not to a former chief of MI6. That would be betraying her trust. "They'll be fine," he said.

Dumbledore seemed to accept his answer with a nod. Although… Harry and Granger had deferred to Ron. Would that be enough for Dumbledore to deduce Luna's identity? Had it been?

Granger spoke up before Ron found an answer: "And how would a retired spymaster be able to help me with my work? Using your influence with your former co-workers?"

Dumbledore laughed. "I don't think they would heed my advice, no matter how sensible. And most of those who remain of my friends are now retired as well." He shook his head. "Besides, my successors wouldn't need my advice to realise what you represent. Although they might need more time. No, I wasn't offering what influence in Britain I still command." He smiled. "I can offer you a modern laboratory with everything you need."

That sounded too good to be true, in Ron's opinion. And it was a common con strategy: First, lay out a supposedly huge problem, then propose a neat and simple solution and watch your mark fall for it.

"My work requires a lot of power," Granger said. Was she actually falling for this?

"Power isn't a problem, my dear."

"Really?" She frowned. "I had a lot of trouble to secure my lab. And I am to believe you could whip one out just like that?"

Once more, Dumbledore inclined his head. "My finances greatly improved after my retirement. Arranging access to a laboratory on par with, if not better than, your last one is not much of a challenge." He leaned forward. "However, I would have to know what else you're hiding about your work."

Ron glanced at Granger, whose brief but clearly surprised expression had, unfortunately, once again betrayed her thoughts and confirmed Dumbledore's claim. At least she didn't bother denying it this time.

"I don't think revealing anything else is advisable before you've proved that you can actually provide me with a laboratory suitable to my needs," she said, raising her chin. "And explained just how exactly you managed to amass such wealth as a retired government employee."

Ron nodded in support - he was more than familiar with the income of even a senior member of the civil service, and the Dumbledore family, while not as poor as the Weasleys, wasn't wealthy enough to make up the difference - they had checked that.

Dumbledore ran a hand over his short, well-groomed beard for a moment. "A fair demand, I think. And, although I didn't exactly advertise my private life and kept it out of the press thanks to a few favours I was owed, it's not a secret either - though some of my old co-workers certainly wish it were." He leaned back. "I am the co-owner of the Phoenix Gruppe."

Ron whistled. Phoenix Gruppe was one of the bigger German corporations. They were mainly known for their armament branch, but they had interests in many other sectors.

"Technically, even a single share would make you a co-owner," Harry pointed out.

The old man's smile widened. "You are correct. However, such word games wouldn't serve me here." He looked at Granger. "I own fifty per cent of the shares of the main holding firm."

Ron blinked. Even taking the fact that a lot of the subdivisions were publicly traded into account, that meant the old man was a multi-billionaire. How could he have managed…? Of course! "You were one of the founders of the firm, weren't you?"

"Correct!" Dumbledore beamed at him.

Ron suppressed a scowl. Would the old man ever stop acting as if they were precocious students answering questions in school?

"It was shortly after the end of the Second World War. I had served in the Secret Service during the war - the details are still classified - and I wasn't yet quite certain whether I should continue my career in the service or join the millions of other young men returning to civilian life. So when I had the opportunity to invest in a new company being founded, I took it. Despite my father's wishes at the time - he was a very traditional man." His smile turned a little sad for a moment, or so Ron thought.

"A German firm?" Harry didn't bother hiding his doubts.

"I was in Germany at the time," Dumbledore replied. With a smile, he added: "I was of the opinion that if both Britain and the United States were recruiting every talented German for various tasks, provided they weren't too badly tainted by their service to the Nazis, then co-founding a company myself would also be acceptable." He frowned briefly. "Do you disagree, Dr Granger?"

She was staring at Dumbledore, not quite shocked, but close, Ron noticed. "Would… would the other founder of the Phoenix Gruppe be named Grindelwald?"

"Why, yes. Gellert Grindelwald."

'Dumbledore revealed as Grindelwald's ally! Plans to subjugate Magical Europe and oppress pureblood culture discovered!'

She fought the urge to throw the Daily Prophet to the ground of their tent. Dumbledore had fought and defeated Grindelwald! Everyone knew that - it was the most famous duel of the century! Perhaps of all time! "What are they thinking?" she spat, shaking her head.

"It's propaganda," Ron replied. "Like their 'reports' about muggleborns stealing magic. They paint Dumbledore as the real Dark Lord because they hope such lies will erode our support in Britain."

"And in the other countries," Harry added, scowling. "But it'll make it harder for the Delacours to get us help from France."

She nodded - few, if any, French wizards and witches would ever help a friend of Grindelwald. Not after the atrocities committed by his followers in the forties.

"If only the Death Eaters had attacked Bill and Fleur's wedding instead of the Ministry," Ron muttered.

"Ron!" She glared at him.

"What?" He grinned as he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders - after planting a kiss on the nape of her neck. "They had half the French Gendarmes there, surrounding the chateau. If Tom had attacked the wedding, he'd have lost most of his followers, and France would have moved against him. And they wouldn't even have come close to the guests, anyway."

He had a point, but she didn't like admitting it. Nor that this might have been the Order's plan. She huffed instead. "In any case, this is a transparent lie few, even in Britain, will believe." Dumbledore, friends with one of the worst dark wizards in Europe? Who had dragged the entirety of Magical Europe into the bloodiest war of the Wizarding World of the century until stopped by Dumbledore? Preposterous! The Headmaster's career spoke for itself. Voldemort had to be desperate to stoop to using such obvious lies.

She dropped the newspaper. She couldn't dwell on this - Luna and Lee would deal with the enemy propaganda anyway. She and her friends had a bank robbery to plan.