Once more, my beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. Their help is invaluable.

Chapter 25: The Russian

West of Novorossiysk, Russia, September 30th, 2005

They quickly covered the distance to the main house - or so Ron assumed; from where he was hidden inside Hermione's trousers, clinging to the top of her boot, he couldn't see much, and her staggering gait didn't help, either.

He heard a lot of Russian, though - and Yaxley repeating Kirikov's name several times. If they were taken straight to the former KGB agent… well, that would make sense, despite the late - or early - hour. Yaxley wanted to curry favour, that much was obvious from what they had overheard before things had gone sideways, and Kirikov would probably punish anyone who kept her capture from him, even if only for a short time, very harshly.

Ron really wished that he understood Russian, though. Or that Yaxley had spoken in English, instead of what Ron presumed was broken Russian.

They finally stopped moving for longer than half a minute, but Ron didn't relax. If he was thrown off or dropped to the ground, separated from Hermione, he wouldn't be able to catch up - no matter his size.

"Who's with you, Dr Granger?" he suddenly heard Yaxley ask.

Hermione didn't answer.

"You didn't kidnap Berisha and Sokolov by yourself," the traitor went on.

"Who?"

Yaxley snorted. "Don't try to claim ignorance. I know you're behind the attacks on them. Your presence here proves it."

"How so?"

Ron clenched his teeth. Yaxley wasn't Dumbledore, and she had handled his questions before. But Ron couldn't help worrying that she'd let something slip.

"No mere physicist would be able to sneak into this building."

"Technically, I was in the garage," Hermione retorted.

Ron suppressed a chuckle as he heard Yaxley growl.

"You'll find that Kirikov isn't quite as nice as I am," Yaxley replied after a moment. "If you try to mock him, you'll regret it. Who is with you? They won't be able to help you. They won't get into the house. And they won't hear you."

That must mean the house was built to block radio, Ron thought.

Fortunately, Hermione didn't reply to that. He carefully shifted around to take a peek at their surroundings without losing his grip. He couldn't see much, but there were four pairs of legs. One of them was Yaxley; he recognised the trousers. The others had to be guards. If only the Shrinking Solution he had taken would run out now… If he surprised them - and who wouldn't be surprised by someone appearing in their midst seemingly out of nowhere - he could take them. Probably.

Hermione had said the potion's duration could vary by as much as half an hour, given the dose they had taken, and accounting for the difference in body mass. Exertion might also be a factor.

So… any moment now.

But the - by now familiar - tingling sensation remained absent as he heard a door open and a new voice speaking in Russian. Then they were moving again. To meet Kirikov. Damn.

Another half a minute of clinging desperately to Hermione's ankle and boot followed. He suddenly worried whether or not she had even noticed that he was there inside her trousers. Then he had to snort at the wording of his thought.

And then they stopped, and he heard Yaxley speak again: "Mr Kirikov, as you can see, I captured Dr Granger. She infiltrated your very home and killed Mr Grey before I could step in. Your guards are searching the entire area for more intruders."

"She does look like Dr Granger." The man - Kirikov, Ron presumed, since he couldn't see him - didn't have much of an accent. "But how would a physicist be able to infiltrate my home?"

"That's what I was asking her," Yaxley replied.

"I wasn't talking to you, Mr Yaxley." After a moment, Kirikov went on. "Hm?"

"I came in through the door," Hermione replied. Ron could hear a slight tremor in her voice, though - she wasn't as cool as she tried to appear.

"How amusing. Did you take a blood sample to check her identity?"

"No. I wanted to…"

Kirikov cut Yaxley off with a snapped order in Russian. About ten seconds later, Ron felt Hermione twitch.

"We'll soon know whether or not you're Dr Granger," Kirikov said. "DNA doesn't lie. Or does it?" A few seconds passed, and Kirikov continued: "It gets a little confusing when dimensional travel is involved."

Ron felt Hermione twitch again and pressed his lips together. She really needed a better poker face. Especially when dealing with former spies.

"Ah." The Russian sounded delighted. "I wasn't sure whether it was cloning or dimensional travel. Your published research indicated the latter, but I couldn't dismiss cloning. Even though I couldn't think of any sound reason for someone to clone an eleven-year-old kidnapping victim. But a dimensional traveller? Trying to return home after assuming the identity of her deceased counterpart? That may sound like a movie, but it makes sense."

"My 'deceased counterpart'?" Hermione spoke up for the first time since they had met Kirikov.

"You didn't expect the girl to be still alive, did you?" The Russian's tone was condescending. Mocking.

"Such things have happened," she retorted.

"True. But I've got proof of the girl's death. An associate of mine - former associate, as Mr Yaxley has informed me - liked to take trophies of his victims."

Greyback. Or Grey, as Yaxley had called him. A serial killer! Ron suppressed the urge to curse.

"You've been working with a child murderer?" Hermione asked. She was tense - and angry.

"It meant I had a lot of leverage on the man, which was all that mattered during the Cold War. Every man has a weakness - Mr Yaxley, too, has one, although his isn't quite so violent." Kirikov laughed. "Although unlike Mr Yaxley, Mr Grey usually satisfied his urges in countries where life was cheaper than in Britain."

"I don't abuse children!" Yaxley spat.

"That doesn't matter. Once you had betrayed your country, you were ours. Or mine." Kirikov. "Although to be honest, I don't make a habit of working with paedophiles. If Mr Grey hadn't told me a most remarkable story when he needed my help a few months ago, I would have made him disappear instead of hiding him."

"How kind of you."

"I like to think I'm a practical man. Now, while we wait for the results of the DNA testing, why don't you explain how you arrived in my home?"

"I entered through the gate, like any visitor," Hermione replied.

"Hm. I think you're the sort of woman to tell the truth if she thinks it won't be believed."

Hermione tensed again. Ron closed his eyes, then slid down a little to check his surroundings once more. Kirikov. Yaxley. Two guards. He couldn't see anyone else, but he couldn't see all of the room. It looked like an entry hall, though - several doors. Probably Kirikov's personal quarters.

"So… did you phase through my gate? Or teleport? A limited dimensional shift? So many possibilities."

"You've read too many science fiction novels," Hermione told him.

"I think I didn't read enough," Kirikov replied. "You will tell me everything you know, Dr Granger. And you will work for me. Eventually."

"For you? I think President Putin would have some issues with that," she retorted.

"With your technology, and with new dimensions to explore, I will be able to name my price."

"Or take Putin's position, I would wager."

Kirikov didn't reply to that. He was probably smiling.

But why was she… Ah. She must be trying to gain time. Time for the Shrinking Solution's effects to end. Ron nodded and pondered his chances. Two guards - they would be armed, weapons ready. They would have to go down first. Yaxley was armed, probably, but he wouldn't have his gun out in Kirikov's presence. And Kirikov didn't strike Ron as the sort of man who'd wave a gun around when talking to a prisoner. He was the type to behave in a most civilised manner - until he didn't get his way. He couldn't hold a candle to Dumbledore, though.

Still, four against one. Two, if Hermione had a magic trick up her sleeve. But either Yaxley or Kirikov would, at the very least, have had her cuffed before this meeting. Probably searched - they would have taken her beaded bag, too.

"I don't think you could afford to fund my research," Hermione went on.

"I think you underestimate my wealth - and my contacts, Dr Granger. After all, someone is funding your research, and it isn't the British government."

"Definitely not," Yaxley cut in. "But she's not a mere physicist. She killed Grey with a knife."

"That's his blood? Ironic." Kirikov seemed amused.

While they were talking, Ron slid down a little further on Hermione's ankle, almost completely exposing his head. Yaxley wasn't carrying the bag. Neither was Kirikov. But… There! He spotted the handle of the bag, hanging down from a table at the back of the room.

What he didn't spot was a good position to ambush Kirikov and the others. Not that he could risk leaving Hermione only for her to be taken to some cell or interrogation room, with Ron, shrunk, left behind here.

"She wasn't fazed by the deed, either," Yaxley went on. "That's why we tied her up."

So Hermione was cuffed. Her legs were free, but she was no Jackie Chan, so she wouldn't be able to fight with kicks.

"If she were a mere physicist, she wouldn't have entered my home. Though I wonder what your goal was. Did you come alone? Or did you bring friends along?"

"She was alone. We searched the garage," Yaxley replied.

"Quiet," Kirikov snapped. "If you brought friends along, then why weren't they with you?"

Hermione didn't answer, but Ron was certain that she would be pressing her lips together, giving the game away anyway.

"Ah. Were they supposed to be with you? Is your travelling method not quite as perfect as it should be for such operations?" Kirikov chuckled. "No, you wouldn't have been the first to enter in that case. You'd have more expendable people on point." He laughed. "Oh, what a glare. It's simply common sense, Dr Granger. Although, seeing as you are here and not safely working in a secret lab, perhaps you have trouble with the concept."

Once more, she didn't reply.

"Or, maybe, you aren't a mere physicist, but also an assassin? You came here to kill me, by yourself. Using the advanced technology Dumbledore and Grindelwald crave. Oh, don't act surprised - it was quite obvious that they're the ones backing you, after Berisha."

Was that a false trail? Had Kirikov deduced that, or did he have a high-ranking mole in Dumbledore's organisation who would be aware of Hermione, and this was just a smoke screen? Would he bother with that when he had her captured?

"But why would Dumbledore risk you on such a silly operation? Or… is it that he couldn't contain his tool?"

"I'm no one's tool," Hermione snapped. Ron hoped that she was deliberately acting as if she'd lost her temper.

The Russian laughed again. "I'm looking forward to finding out what your technology can achieve."

"Mr Kirikov, if she does have others with her…" Yaxley said.

"She wouldn't have been the first in. And while my guards aren't trained to deal with teleporting enemies, they are trained and ready to deal with intruders. We would have noticed any other intruders."

That would be the ideal time to start growing again, in Ron's opinion. But the tingling sensation he was waiting for didn't start.

"You've no idea what - or who - you're facing," Hermione spat.

"Perhaps. But I'm sure that in a little while, you'll be telling me everything I'll need to know, Doctor," the former spy replied. "Everyone talks, after a while."

Ron felt her tense up again. She must be suffering a flashback to her torture, he realised.

And then he felt the Shrinking Solution's effect start to end.

Cursing under his breath, he pushed off, barely clearing the trousers before he grew too large and got stuck, and slid over Hermione's boot. He managed to get his G3 clear before he hit the ground and started firing while he was still growing.

One burst hit the first guard in the throat and head - he had aimed for the chest, but the rapid growth had thrown his aim off. He twisted and fired another burst into the second guard while the man was still trying to react. The man was caught in mid-turn and fell down on the ground, dropping his rifle.

Ron continued to turn, the barrel of his assault rifle catching Yaxley's arm before the traitor could get his pistol clear of his holster. Ron fired at once, but Yaxley dropped to the floor, then rolled and ploughed into Ron's legs.

Unbalanced, Ron threw himself forward into a combat roll, coming up in a crouch, rifle aimed at Kirikov - just as the Russian disappeared through a door in the back.

Ron dropped to the ground at once, twisting to roll behind a table, as a shot barely missed him - Yaxley hadn't lost his pistol! Ron kept rolling over his shoulder, pulling his rifle with him. Another bullet went through the table, hitting the floor next to him while he struggled to bring his rifle to bear - the thing was heavy and unwieldy.

Another shot hit his shoulder, but the vest he was wearing stopped the bullet. Then he screamed when his leg suddenly felt as if it were on fire, and again when he rolled over his bleeding limb. He dropped the rifle and grabbed for the butt of his pistol, knowing he'd be too late as Yaxley was just drawing another bead on him.

But something - someone - hit Yaxley from behind, spoiling his shot. Hermione! She had managed to throw herself against Yaxley's legs even with her hands bound behind her back!

Despite the pain, Ron grinned as he swung his arm around and double-tapped the traitor in the chest. Yaxley stopped moving and collapsed, and Ron shot him in the head for good measure.

"Hermione?"

"Ron! You're bleeding!"

He wanted to claim it was just a flesh wound, but it hurt too much, and his attempt at a joke turned into a hiss.

"My bag! You need a potion!" Hermione yelled, struggling to get up.

"Let me cut your cuffs!" Ron snapped. They didn't have much time - Kirikov's guards would arrive at any moment.

"These are handcuffs!" she shot back.

"Damn! Stay down!" He tried to stand, but his leg crumpled under him, and the pain... Dear Lord, the pain! He screamed again through clenched teeth.

"Ron!"

He ignored her and crawled towards the table with the beaded bag, his wounded leg dragging over the floor. And, as he noticed when he glanced at the door to check for enemies, leaving a bloody trail.

And Hermione didn't stand down. She had managed to get up and rushed ahead, turning to grab the bag with her cuffed hands.

Someone yelled from outside the door, and Ron rolled over, gasping when his leg lit up in pain again, and aimed his pistol at the door. A moment later, someone started knocking on the door - hitting it. They couldn't enter, he realised. Kirikov had locked out his own guards.

He blinked. Had he hit his head? He was having trouble focusing. He felt lightheaded, too.

He was bleeding out, he realised. Yaxley must have nicked an artery or something.

"Ron!"

Hermione! He looked over his shoulder and saw she was on the ground, crawling - if you could call it that without the use of her arms - towards him, pulling the bag along.

"Pull out the emergency potions!" she yelled, twisting to drop the bag next to him.

Right. The potions. The healing potions. But Kirikov was just one room away - he could charge in at any time. He swung around and aimed at the door in the back.

"Ron!"

He grabbed the bag and pulled it towards him. Right. He reached inside - his leg didn't hurt any more - and grabbed the first aid box, with the potions. "Which one?" he asked as he opened it.

"The blue and red ones! Ron!"

He grabbed a blue potion and bit into the stopper. Everything was so heavy. And he was so tired…

"Ron!"

Hermione again. She was sliding towards him. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth, keeping the pistol trained on the door, then tipped the vial back.

"Now the red! The red!"

Another potion? He had drunk one already and he wasn't really in pain any more. But she kept nagging. He grabbed a red one and drank it as well.

And his eyes shot open.

"Bloody hell!"

The pain was back - lessened, though still very much present. But he could bear it. That he had almost died, on the other hand, without noticing… He shook his head and checked Hermione's cuffs. "Did you see who had the keys?"

"One of the guards."

That meant crossing the room, potentially exposing himself to Kirikov - if the Russian hadn't fled the room already. Perhaps a smoke screen… no, that would blind him as well. He keyed his radio - should have done so already. "Team One to Team Two. Over." Code names, he reminded himself - they would have taken Hermione's radio with her other gear. No answer. Right, blocked. Paranoid Russian former spy.

He reloaded his pistol, then holstered it and grabbed his G3. A few more shots through the open door would, or so he hoped, keep Kirikov from getting any ideas. He fired a burst, then dashed forward and jumped to his right, out of the line of fire of anyone on the other side of the door.

Half-heartedly keeping the muzzle pointed at the door, he searched the closest dead guard. Nothing.

No one had fired back yet. Kirikov must have fled then - or he was hiding and hoping to ambush them. Which meant he would be trapped in here with them and couldn't reach his guards. Blocked radios cut both ways, Ron thought with a grin.

He grabbed the dead guard's rifle and hooked it around the leg of the second guard, then pulled the body towards him. "Found them!"

Before he crawled back to her and unlocked her cuffs, he fired a few more shots to deter anyone from rushing them and reloaded his rifle.

"I really hope you've got some magic up your sleeve," he whispered as she rubbed her wrists, both of them crouching behind a sturdy looking dresser. "We need to get out of here before Krikov's men get their act together."

"I'm afraid not," she said. "Perhaps…"

He cut her off by raising his hand. "Listen!"

Yes, someone was shooting nearby. Not too close.

"Harry and Sirius," she whispered.

This was their chance. If their friends were attacking the guards, they could escape from this room. But out the front? No. The guards would be covering the door from their side.

"We need to get Kirikov," Hermione interrupted his thoughts. Was she mad? They had to escape, not go on a manhunt. "He's a coward - he's running. As Karkaroff did."

He frowned, but she was probably correct. Either way, they had to get out. And if she didn't have a magical door opener of some sort, he would have to use a mundane one. "Give me the Semtex."

She gasped but handed him the package. It should be enough to blow a hole in the wall, even if it was reinforced. But it was also enough to kill everyone inside.

This would be tricky.

"I think I have something that will help," Hermione said. She stuck her hand inside her bag and withdrew a vial. "Swelling Potion."

What would she want with that? They needed to reduce the wall, not reinforce it further.

"For cover."

Ah. That might work. Should work. Or they were dead. Probably.

They moved out of the room and into the room behind. Kirikov had disappeared, though Ron couldn't spot an escape tunnel. Not that he'd try to follow the Russian down a tunnel anyway. Berisha had been close enough - Kirikov definitely would have trapped his escape route.

Hell, Kirikov would have trapped his damn home. They really needed to get the hell out of here. He started placing the charges on the wall that should - according to Hermione - lead outside while she pulled a steel plate and foam mattresses out of her bag and disappeared from sight round the next corner.

He heard shots, much closer now - someone was shooting into the room they had just left. Ron doubted that Kirikov wanted to risk killing Hermione, so either this was merely suppressive fire aimed high or Kirikov hadn't reached the guards and someone else had managed to open the door. Either way, grenades would soon follow. Stun or frag. Or tear gas.

He hurriedly finished placing the explosives. "Ready?"

"Yes!"

He didn't trust the radio detonator so he started the timer. Thirty seconds.

Then he rushed to Hermione, who was pouring some liquid on a steel plate, which quickly started to grow. He dashed past it and dived under the foam mattresses she had arranged in a pile. A moment later, they started growing as well, and Hermione joined him beneath them.

"Couldn't that act as a counter to the Shrinking Solution?"

"No, it doesn't work like that - it's much less…"

An explosion strong enough to shake the floor and knock the breath out of them interrupted her.

Ron blinked. Had he been knocked out? He couldn't tell. But if he had, it couldn't have been for long. He twisted, pushing the huge mattresses off him. Or tried to. "Her..." He coughed once more. "Hermione?"

"Here!"

She had been next to him. To his left. He groped around, managing to stand up, finally pushing the foam off. There! No.

She was in the process of crawling out from underneath a stack of mattresses which had been pushed together, pressing down on her. He grabbed her arms and pulled, and she slid free.

"Thanks."

Smoke started to fill the room - the explosion must have set the furniture on the other side on fire. "Are the mattresses flammable?" he managed to ask, coughing at the end.

"I don't know."

Swell. Literally, he thought. "Let's go!" He grabbed his rifle and moved forward, climbing over another mattress, then swung around the corner, leading with the G3. Something - someone - was moving in the smoke, and Ron fired at once. The body dropped, and he heard Russian curses. He had placed the charges on his right, so…

Hermione grabbed his belt. "Move!"

He moved forward, almost stepping on the mangled remains of another Russian. Or two - it was hard to tell, but there were two SMGs on the ground. They must have charged in right before the explosives went off.

Clenching his teeth, he advanced a little more.

"Team Two to Team One. Where are you? Team Two to Team One."

That was Harry! The hole in the wall must let radio waves through! "Team Two. Breached wall. Lost one radio."

That should keep their friends from shooting them. It would also warn whoever was listening in, but Kirikov already knew where Ron and Hermione were. And his guards would be scrambling to cover the breach.

He dashed forward, almost pulling Hermione off her feet, and pressed himself against the wall next to the breach, Hermione behind him. He peered around the corner for a fraction of a second, spotting the lawn outside, then pulled back. Just in time - a burst of automatic fire hit the edge of the breach and sent dust and concrete splinters flying.

"They don't seem to care about taking you alive," he muttered.

"They probably don't know about me yet," Hermione pointed out. Then she fired the SMG she had picked up - at someone behind them.

The Russians were moving in through the wrecked rooms. And they were covering the area outside the room. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Perhaps they could take another dose of Shrinking Solution and let the Russians assume that they'd teleported? No, they would never make it out of the compound. And the fire wasn't helping. The fire… "Do you have a potion of fire resistance?" he asked.

"Yes…" Hermione was already opening her bag. "And gallons of petrol."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Ron told her, grinning, as she handed him a potion. "Let's set the whole place on fire!"

He swallowed the potion, then took one jerry can and poured half of its contents on the broken furniture nearby. Hermione followed his example. Then he threw the can towards the back of the room and took another, which he emptied on the floor, near the breach - most of it flew outside.

"We can't stay inside; the potion won't let us breathe fire," Hermione said

"We'll stay here at the breach," he replied. There should be enough air here. And they wouldn't need to wait too long before the Russians would consider them dead. Or the whole house caught fire.

He pushed the button on his radio. "Team One to Team Two. We're using the fire solution." Then looked at Hermione and nodded, and she used a lighter. A moment later, the petrol ignited, the flames rapidly spreading. Then the whole area was on fire.

He could hear the Russians cursing outside - and inside. Although breathing was a little harder than he'd expected, they would manage. At least long enough for the Russians to give up.

He moved forward a little and peered out of the breach again. Burning petrol covered his leg and foot - and stuck. He was on fire. And he didn't even feel hot. Breathing grew more difficult, though. Sooner than he had expected. And Hermione was constantly coughing.

Damn. They had to move, and soon. "Move to the breach!" he told her, then dashed across it to the other side. That would gain them some time. Not enough, though - shots hit the edge of the breach again.

And more shots followed, though he couldn't spot where the bullets had hit.

"Team Two to Team One. Way's clear, but avoid the grass!"

Ron didn't hesitate. He trusted Harry. "Let's move!" he yelled to Hermione, then slid around the corner, out of the house. Someone was waving at him about twenty yards away, near the entrance to the guest house. Harry!

He grabbed Hermione's hand - she was stumbling a little and still coughing - and rushed towards his friend.

"Avoid the grass!" he heard Harry yell again.

"I got it the first time," he muttered. A bullet kicked up some dirt near his foot, and he pushed himself to run faster, despite the stabbing pain that caused in his leg. Harry and Sirius were laying down some covering fire, but that wouldn't stop a determined enemy.

He heard another bullet whizz past his head and ducked. "Sniper!" he yelled, resisting the urge to drop and try to return fire. He would be completely exposed on the path here. Especially since he was still covered in burning petrol.

Two more bullets missed - both aimed low, again, hitting the stone plates forming the path - and then he and Hermione were past Harry and behind the corner their friends had taken.

Ron dropped and pressed himself against the wall. "We need to get out of here." He started to try to put the fire on his legs out by slapping his trousers, but without much success.

"No, we need to get Kirikov!" Hermione yelled back, arm in her bag. A moment later, she pulled a blanket out and spread it over Ron's legs, smothering the flames.

"We're kind of outnumbered here," Harry replied while he reloaded. "And getting low on ammo."

Hermione responded by handing out more magazines. "He'll be running. He's the type to run. He doesn't know how many of us there are, he doesn't know what we can do - and he suspects the worst. He'll run!"

"What did you do?" Sirius asked, switching places with Harry to reload.

"Made him think that we can teleport," Ron replied as he pulled the obviously fire-resistant blanket off his legs. "And he knows Hermione's a dimensional traveller."

"Oh." Sirius nodded. "That explains why they didn't hose you down with a machine gun. Couldn't risk hitting you, Hermione."

Ron crawled towards Harry and joined him behind the corner. Some wrecked furniture from the guest house served as additional cover, but Ron didn't really trust it to stop a high-powered rifle.

"Enemies at both corners," Harry told him. "We got a few of them, but they have reserves."

At least with the yard razed, they didn't have to fear someone flanking them. Unless there were secret tunnels to the guest house.

And the fire was spreading, Ron noticed. That would make the enemies' positions untenable sooner rather than later - they didn't have magic protection from the flames. "Did you call Luna?"

"We did, but got no response," Harry replied.

Damn. Probably jammers preventing their radios from reaching Luna's. "She'll have eyes on the compound," Ron said. "She'll use her initiative." Or Ginny would push her.

"She better use it quickly," Harry yelled back, sliding behind cover to reload again. "If they get desperate, they might rush us anyway."

Ron popped up and fired a few rapid shots at either corner and briefly covered the house - just in case someone was suicidal enough to take up a firing position so close to the spreading flames.

Someone returned fire from the left, and Ron squeezed off a long burst at their position. "We need to waste more ammo!" he snapped. "Make them think we're more numerous!"

"Get a machine gun, then," Harry yelled back. "Or two."

But Sirius had already come to the same conclusion - Ron saw him approach with an MG-3, dragging belts of ammo. "Make way!" the older man yelled, and Ron slid to the side. Sirius quickly set up the machine gun and started firing long - very long - bursts at Kirikov's house.

If that didn't convince the Russians to retreat…

Something flew past them above and crashed into the garage. A moment later, the entire building blew up.

Luna must have used her helicopter as a cruise missile, he realised Probably set it on a straight course, to avoid it crashing due to being jammed. Ron really hoped that no one had been in the garage. It should have been cleared by Harry and Sirius already - they had been inside when they returned to their natural size, hadn't they?

"Alright," Sirius yelled, whooping. "No more getaway cars!"

"Didn't you sabotage them already?" Hermione asked, bringing more ammo to them.

"Yes, but now he can be sure they're not an option any more," Sirius replied.

"His house is burning, his garage blown up, his guest house occupied, he thinks we can apparate, and he doesn't know whether we have another 'missile' ready…" Hermione bared her teeth. "He'll run!"

"And we'll stop him," Ron replied with a matching grin. Payback time.

But they still had no communication with Luna and Ginny - or the yacht. And no eyes on the other side of Kirikov's house.

"He'll leave some men to cover his retreat," Sirius said between firing two more long bursts at the corners held by the enemies. "Or has left them already."

Ron glanced up. They couldn't see all of the area, but a drone could. Luna would be watching the entire area. And while they couldn't talk to her over the radio, there were ways to alert them to someone fleeing. Like circling or hovering over a specific location. He couldn't spot a drone, though. It must be flying too high to be easily visible at night.

"We need to cut him off before he can escape by boat," Hermione insisted.

"We can't just rush them," Harry shot back. "And we don't know how long they'll stick to orders not to risk hitting you."

"Grenades!" Sirius snapped. "Let's take out his rear guard."

It was a little far for throwing grenades from cover - they couldn't stand up without exposing themselves. But they had grenades to spare in Hermione's beaded bag of holding.

And while neither Ron nor Harry were professional athletes, they hadn't skipped physical education in school. Ron grabbed two grenades and crawled forward until he could see the leeward corner, partially covered in smoke from the fire. "Ready!" he yelled.

"Ready!" Harry added.

Sirius and Harry started firing long bursts to make the enemy keep their heads down. Ron took a deep breath, grit his teeth and rose a little. His first grenade fell a bit short, most of the splinters would have hit the wall. But his next grenade landed right where he wanted it to - on the other side of the corner.

Then he rose and started to lay down covering fire while Harry used his grenades to deal with the other corner.

"Go! Go!" Harry yelled, already running forward to his corner.

Ron followed his example, rushing the other corner - thanks to the potion, he wouldn't have to worry about the heat from the fire. Or not overly so. He reached the corner, then leaned forward, peering around it for a moment. Two bodies. And a shooter who just missed him. Damn.

"Stubborn Russians," he muttered.

"Here's another grenade." Hermione was right behind him, pressed against the wall.

He grabbed it, then moved cautiously forward. But before he reached the corner, a series of explosions shook the entire ground. He jumped back, tackling Hermione to the ground, covering her with his body, as more explosions followed.

As soon as they stopped, he looked up despite his ringing ears. Half the house had disappeared - turned into burning rubble. Kirikov must have been storing something very explosive. He rolled off Hermione and brought his rifle up; if this was meant to stun them for a counter-attack…

"Ron! Harry! Hermione! Sirius!"

That was Luna! The explosions must have taken out the jammer, or the generator powering it! "Team One to Team Three, we're OK."

"Team Two to Team Three, we're alright as well," Sirius reported.

"Good!"

"There's a boat leaving the beach!" Ginny cut in.

"We need to hurry!" Hermione jumped up.

"Careful!" Ron grabbed her hand.

For a moment, she tried to pull away. Then she relented. "He'll get away!"

"Team Two to Team Three, can the backup stop them?"

"On it!"

"It's a zodiac," Ginny told them. "About four… yes, four people are inside."

The yacht should be able to catch the zodiac, then, Ron thought.

Then Luna came back on the radio. "The Russian Navy's coming!"

Bloody hell.

"Are those all of the wands you've recovered?"

"All we could spare," she told Remus. Harry should be handling this, but he was currently snogging Ginny in the tent they had put up for this meeting with Remus's cell.

He frowned. "Most of the muggleborns whom we managed to save had had their wands confiscated. We need to replace them. Without a wand, they are helpless."

And useless in the war, she mentally added. "I know. But we need spare wands, in case we lose our own." They had the most important task - not that they could tell Remus that, although he likely suspected it, anyway - and the most dangerous. Besides, they had ambushed those Snatchers and taken the wands from them. It wasn't as if they were taking them from others.

He stared at her for a moment, then slowly, and with obvious reluctance, nodded.

"If you lose your wand, odds are you'll be dead or captured, anyway," a voice sounded behind her.

She turned to face the speaker. She hadn't seen the woman before this meeting, and the other witch had kept her distance so far. But Remus was smiling ever so slightly. "Hello, Tonks."

"How did you…?" The woman pouted, confirming her guess. "I didn't stumble this time!"

She nodded at Remus. "He was smiling."

"Ah." Tonks frowned at her husband, though it was apparent that she didn't mean it. "Anyway, my point stands," the former Auror continued, addressing her.

"It might be situational," she retorted, "but it could end up being the difference between living and dying."

"And the sort of idiots who went to the Ministry like sheep would be useless in the war anyway, with or without a wand," Ron said from where he was checking supplies. "Sorry, but we need backup wands more than they need to be able to cast a Wand-Lighting Charm."

She chuckled at that, and he flashed her a smile. Ron…

She faced Remus again, her own smile fading. "I'm sorry," she lied, "but we really need the spare wands." It wasn't like they could learn wandless magic. Well, in theory, they could - if they could spare the time - but it wasn't worth the effort. Not when they needed to learn so much else that was much more useful in a fight than a few wandless tricks.

He sighed once more but nodded. Good.

There was no need to tell him that they didn't just have a second wand each but had also hidden more wands in caches.

After all, if they failed their mission, the whole war was lost anyway.