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

Chapter 26: The Conclusion

West of Novorossiysk, Russia, September 30th, 2005

"How long until the Russians arrive?" Ron heard Sirius asking over the radio.

"They're in a helicopter," Luna replied.

Damn. "Can we reach the yacht before the helicopter arrives?" Ron asked. He doubted it - if the yacht had noticed the helicopter, it would have to be quite close already - but he had to ask.

"No," Luna said. "They're retreating from Russian territorial waters."

The yacht was retreating? Damn. Ron had no doubt that Dumbledore had given firm instructions to support Hermione to the utmost, so that meant they judged the situation pretty much hopeless. "We need to retreat ourselves," he said.

"But…"

He shook his head at Hermione. "We can't stop Kirikov. Not with the yacht withdrawing. And that means there's no point in staying any longer."

She pressed her lips together, but he knew that he was correct. They had to withdraw now, quickly. Before the Russian military arrived. Even in the best case, things would escalate into an international incident.

"Everyone, fall back!" Sirius echoed Ron's thoughts. "The mission's a failure; we need to retreat post-haste!"

Hermione muttered something and pulled a vial out of her bag. "Invigoration Draught," she told him. "We'll have to hike."

Ron nodded. In hindsight, blowing up the garage and all the cars hadn't been an entirely good idea.

They fell back, Ron covering their retreat - not that he thought that, after their losses, the guards had the guts to counter-attack - and met up with Harry and Sirius back at the gate, which someone must have opened at some point since the whole mess had started. Probably a guard fleeing - they'd have to keep an eye out for them.

"Move!" Sirius yelled. "We only have a few minutes to reach cover!"

They ran along the road for a few hundred yards, then left it and headed straight for the hills where Luna and Ginny were hiding. Ron was already panting, and his legs felt as if someone had strapped weights to his feet. And yet, he kept running. They had to be under cover before the Russian chopper arrived.

At least Hermione managed to keep up - but once her potion ran out…

Ron finally had to stop running when they reached a steep slope - he had really started to hate the things - because he simply couldn't push himself any further.

"Here," Hermione said behind him.

He turned his head and saw that she was holding out a vial towards him. "How long will it last?"

"A few hours."

He shook his head. They couldn't afford to have two of them collapse in a few hours. "I'll manage."

"Let's rest there," Harry said, pointing at a small, narrow ravine nearby.

Ron nodded and slid down into it. It was narrow enough to hide them from view unless someone was flying directly overhead. He helped Hermione down, then made way for Harry and Sirius.

Sirius looked exhausted as well. "The Russians will be all over the area in force very soon. The yacht won't be able to send a zodiac to pick us up."

"We'll have to swim, then," Hermione said.

"I joined the army instead of the navy for a reason," Sirius muttered. But he didn't have a better idea.

Then they heard the unmistakable sound of a flying helicopter, and everyone stopped talking and pressed themselves against the earth. If the thing started a sweep of the area…

But during the next few minutes, the sound didn't grow louder - they must be focusing on the burning compound.

"We need to move now," Harry said, "while they're trying to find out what happened."

Ron groaned but pushed himself up. "Let's go, then." They had to rejoin Luna and Ginny.

"Harry!"

As soon as they entered the cave, Ginny jumped up and came towards them. Ron barely managed to move out of the way before she shoulder-checked him on her way to Harry. He stumbled and almost fell anyway - he was more tired than he had realised. Of course, he had spent the whole night marching and fighting. Literally, since the sun had come up already.

"We need to rest," he said.

"We can't rest," Sirius retorted. "The Russians won't take this attack lying down. They'll comb the area. If we don't get moving now, they'll catch us."

"We can't move," Harry told him, still holding Ginny. "We can barely walk."

"And it's daylight outside already," Ron's sister added.

"Doesn't matter with night vision gear," Sirius replied. "But we need to move. Now."

"I have a potion that can keep us going," Hermione said. "But we'll collapse in a few hours."

"A little less for you," Ron pointed out.

"That doesn't matter. We can't stay here, and we can't hide well enough from Russian border troops. They'll know the terrain," Sirius insisted.

Ron wasn't quite so sure about the quality of the Russian troops in the area, but he'd rather risk running than waiting in a hole in the ground and hoping that the enemy didn't find them. "Alright. Luna and Ginny won't drink, though."

"We don't need to," Ginny agreed. "I'm good for a marathon." Ron snorted in response, and she glared at him. "Someone has to handle the underwater sledge."

And she was the only one among them who had ever used one. He nodded, then grabbed one of the vials Hermione was handing out. "How many do you have left?" he asked in a low voice.

"Two," she said. "I had six - two for each of…" She trailed off, and he nodded. He knew what and who she meant.

He unstoppered the vial and sniffed. Ugh. Hopefully, it wouldn't taste as bad as it smelt.

It did, actually. But he felt so great afterwards, he didn't mind. He was ready to run a marathon himself!

Ron shook his head as he stared at the beach from underneath a bush at the forest's edge. Fifty yards of open ground and then the surf. In broad daylight. With two Russian choppers overhead. He didn't like their chances.

"What are the odds they'll drop depth charges if they spot us diving?" Luna asked. "Do the Russians have depth charges any more?"

"The Royal Navy still has them in their arsenal," Sirius replied. "So I guess the Russians will have them as well."

"But would their helicopters have them on board?" Ron asked.

"They can improvise some with grenades or explosives," the older man pointed out. "We'll need a distraction to make it to the water."

"The yacht could launch the drone," Ginny suggested.

"That would make them a target," Harry retorted. "The Russians might not care that the yacht's outside their territorial waters - they can always lie or say it was a mistake."

And sacrificing the yacht would leave them stranded in the Black Sea.

"I could use my second helicopter," Luna proposed. "Set it on autopilot and point it towards the remains of the house."

"Do you think they'll even notice it?" Harry asked.

"If I manage to fit a broadcasting radio to it?"

Ron didn't have to see Luna to know she was smiling impishly.

"Make it something insulting!" Ginny said.

"No, make it something they need to stop," Hermione interjected. "Something revealing what's happened. But do it quickly. We still need to swim about twelve miles before the potion runs out."

Ron nodded, grimacing. If they collapsed while still underwater, things would get… difficult. "Let's get on with it, then."

Modifying Luna's helicopter into a broadcasting drone took Luna and Hermione an hour. Well, mostly Luna - Hermione mainly assisted her. Though Ron did the wipe down to get rid of fingerprints and DNA traces. Just in case the Russians managed to capture it intact.

Before that, though, he helped the others assemble the underwater sledge from the parts stored in Hermione's bag. The thing was far heavier than expected, but that couldn't be helped.

And they were ready to rush into the sea when Luna launched the helicopter. The small machine lifted off and slowly gained altitude, flying more or less in the direction of the compound. "The radio should engage in a few minutes," Luna said, "as soon as it gets out of range of my remote control."

Ron wasn't exactly holding his breath, but he couldn't help feeling tense. If this didn't work, they would have attracted even more attention - it wouldn't take a genius to plot the course of the helicopter back to their spot.

"The Russians aren't moving yet," Harry reported.

"The helicopter isn't broadcasting... yet," Luna replied.

"They could've spotted it anyway," Harry retorted. Ron's friend was tense as well.

"I don't think so," Sirius, who was tracking the other Russian chopper with binoculars, replied. "Not with all the ground clutter."

Suddenly, a series of beeps started behind them. "It's started broadcasting!" Luna announced. "Godspeed, little helicopter!"

"No reaction," Harry said.

"Perhaps they don't understand Morse code… or they aren't on the channel…" Ginny speculated.

"Unlikely," Hermione told her. "That's the international emergency frequency, and Morse code is still standard."

"Helicopter just changed course!" Harry snapped.

"Mine as well!" Sirius added. "Going towards the compound…"

"Here, too!"

"Alright…" Ron wet his lips and took a deep breath. "Say when."

"Wait for it… wait for it…" Sirius told them. "They've taken the bait, but they haven't committed yet… mine is still covering the sea… now they're engaging! Go! Go! Go!"

Ron waited until Harry had joined him, then gripped one side of the sledge, checked that his friend had the other side and heaved. "Go!"

Down the slope they went, more jumping and sliding than running, and once the sledge almost fell on Ron's legs, until they hit the beach, where the sand made running more difficult. They ploughed through, however, straight into the surf, until they could lower the sledge into the water, where Ginny was already waiting.

Hermione was not far behind them, pulling ropes out of her bag. Sirius and Luna brought up the rear. A minute later, everyone had pulled on diving goggles and fastened the ropes to their harnesses. And they had pulled off their boots.

"Now eat the Gillyweed!" Hermione snapped. Ron saw her stuff the grass into her mouth a moment later.

Gillyweed… He snorted at the name, then took a bite. It tasted like raw calamari. Slimy and chewy. He swallowed it anyway - he had eaten worse before.

Nothing happened. Had the magic failed? Hermione had said it would work, but testing hadn't been possible without a large body of water. Not without the risk of suffocating. But if it only worked on wizards and witches…

Suddenly he couldn't breathe anymore. He choked, hands going to his throat - and pulled away when he felt pain in the side of his neck. Gills. He blinked. Hermione had already dived but resurfaced. "Go underwater!" she yelled. "You can't breathe air any more."

Right. Ron dove under the water and opened his mouth. He could breathe water now.

And his hands had webbed fingers now. And his feet...

He shuddered. They were going to be stuck like this for about an hour. At least the weed also protected them from the cold. Otherwise, this whole plan would be even more dangerous than it already was. No matter how much Hermione had told them that this weed had allowed Harry's counterpart to swim around underwater in the Black Lake for an hour without any prior training.

He looked around, spotting the rest of their group underwater. Luna seemed fascinated by her own transformation. Well, that wasn't exactly a surprise. But the others… He felt a tug on his harness, then he was dragged towards the open sea for about ten seconds, only for the rope to go slack again just when he had managed to reorient himself.

"Ginny!" he yelled with the air left in his lungs. Could she even hear him underwater?

"All aboard?"

Well, he could hear her. A quick look told him that the ropes had held - Ginny, on the sledge, was dragging all of them behind her.

"Yes!" Someone - probably Harry; it was hard to tell underwater - yelled.

A moment later, Ron was dragged behind the sledge again, but at a higher speed than before. And she was diving.

He tried to align his body with the rope, to reduce the drag, but spun out of control and hit the sandy seabed instead. That didn't hurt, fortunately. But getting sand into his gills? That did. As did trying to clear them by coughing. By the time he had managed to clear his gills - who knew what would happen if he had sand or something else inside his gills when the Gillyweed stopped working? - Ginny had stopped hugging the seabed, but she was still diving deeper. At least as far as Ron could tell.

He relaxed a little. Now all they had to worry about was keeping the sledge on course, and that was Ginny's job. And they could only hope that the Russians didn't drive the yacht away from the arranged pickup coordinates, outside territorial waters or not. And shark attacks, of course. Hermione and Ginny might have assured them that there was no real risk of being attacked by a shark in the Black Sea, but seeing how much had gone wrong on this mission, Ron wouldn't put it past them to stumble into a one-in-a-million encounter with a dangerous shark. Or perhaps a giant squid. Or for the Russians to deploy a sonar buoy close enough that the sonic waves hurt them.

He looked around and shuddered again. He couldn't see the ground any more, just darkness below them. And some dim light above them. They had to stay at this depth or they might be spotted from above, but he was very much aware that if the Gillyweed stopped working for any reason, they would have a devil of a time reaching the surface before they drowned. At least they didn't have to worry about decompression sickness.

Which was a very small consolation. He checked the watch on his wrist. They had been underway for ten minutes by now. Eleven minutes since they had taken Gillyweed. And he had no idea if they were making good time, or falling behind. The underwater sledge wasn't built for speed. If they had to resurface to take another dose of Gillyweed…

They travelled in silence. Just in case the Russians were listening. You couldn't talk without air in your lungs, anyway, and the Gillyweed just let you breathe water. It didn't turn it into air. People volunteered for this? Crazies, the lot of them.

He checked his watch again. Half an hour. Halfway there - or so he hoped. He still couldn't tell. To think that Harry's counterpart had done this alone, without any training, and had gone much deeper, to save Ron's counterpart… if they ever met, Ron would have to buy the bloke a pint. Not for saving his counterpart, of course, but for the sheer amount of guts this took.

The silence was getting to him. He could barely see the others around him. Everyone's rope was of a different length, so they wouldn't collide. Hermione was in front of him, as was Luna. Sirius was behind him, Harry brought up the rear. And with the Gillyweed, they all looked inhuman, too. Like the merfolk in some novels. Or games.

He focused on those stories for a while. How would they compare to actual, real, merfolk? No, merpeople, Hermione had told him. Most wouldn't resemble them, based on what he had heard from her. But there were dozens of different fictional versions.

After a while spent speculating, and not thinking about their present situation, he looked at his watch once more. Five minutes left. Damn. Ginny was cutting it too close - if she didn't…

As if she had read his mind, they started to move towards the surface. Slowly, for his taste - they were still going forward - but surely. Four minutes. Three minutes. Two. And they still weren't at the surface - his sister was really pushing it here. One minute.

Finally, Ginny stopped the sledge, right below the surface. Now all they had to do was wait until the Gillyweed ran out… He blinked. Hermione wasn't moving.

He felt his heart skip a beat. No! He detached his rope and swam towards her. She couldn't be…

She was still breathing, he realised with relief: Her gills were opening and closing.

But she was unconscious. The potion she had taken to keep herself going must have stopped working… and she couldn't eat any more Gillyweed if she was unconscious. If the yacht wasn't at the pickup point, or if Ron and his friends weren't…

Could he feed the weed to her? Make her chew and swallow? He didn't think so. The weed was too chewy, and cutting it up beforehand might ruin the magic. Ron pressed his lips together, then swam to the surface with a few strokes of his webbed limbs.

He couldn't see the yacht. Bloody hell!

He dived once more, to breathe, then resurfaced. Where was the yacht? And where were they? The had to be near the correct coordinates - they had calculated the heading they had to take, and Ginny had had a compass to steer. Even with a current, she would have been able to keep on course.

Had Dumbledore's men abandoned them? Unlikely. But they could've been held up. Or even detained by the Russians.

He took a deep breath to fill his lungs, suppressing the weird sensation of choking that caused, then dived down again to check on Hermione. He had to keep an eye on her, or she'd drown quickly once her gills vanished. Fortunately, she was still under the Gillyweed's effects. But for how much longer? She had said it would last an hour, but Ron didn't think it would end at the same time for everyone. And where was the damn yacht?

"Where's the yacht?" he yelled underwater, expelling the air from his lungs once more. "Hermione's unconscious!"

His yell startled the others, and he saw several of them swim towards the surface while one - Luna - swam towards Hermione. "She still has gills," he told her with the last of his breath.

He saw her mouth form a silent 'O'.

He nodded several times in response. Hermione was fine. So far.

Luna still checked for herself whether Hermione was still breathing water before she nodded back at him.

By that time, Ginny had joined them. "Radio!" she snapped, air bursting forth from her mouth. Then she was past them, headed to the underwater sledge.

Was she planning to call the yacht or use a locator signal to attract them? Probably both. Ron could only hope that the ship was close enough to reach them in time.

He checked for gills again. Hermione was still good. Then he felt a hand on his arm, squeezing his biceps. He turned his head and saw Luna smile and nod at him.

It helped. Only a little, but he managed to calm down and smile back at her before returning his attention to Hermione. There wasn't anything else he could do but guard her. And wait.

A few minutes later, he felt his throat starting to itch. Damn. He checked Hermione - her gills seemed fine. But he felt the urge to cough growing. He was running out of time.

He released her harness, then pulled her with him as he made for the surface. He reached it in time to cough and expel the water in his throat - and in his lungs, or so it felt. And it hurt. But he could - and had to - breathe air again when he recovered. And Hermione… Damn, her gills vanished in front of his eyes.

He pulled her head out of the water and opened her mouth. Water ran out, but she wasn't coughing. Or breathing. No!

He slid behind her and wrapped his arms around her, trying to squeeze the water out of her and make her breathe again. It didn't work - not entirely. Damn. Time was running out! "Harry! Help me!" he yelled.

His friend swam over.

"She's not breathing. Help me hold her up so the water can run out!"

Together, they managed to lift her up and tilt her. Ron saw more water flow out of her mouth. But she still wasn't breathing. She still had a pulse, though.

He grabbed her head and started mouth to mouth. "Get a boat we can drop her in!" he yelled in between breathing air into her. He barely noticed Harry and Luna inflating a small zodiac - an inflatable toy meant for the beach more than a real boat - while he kept blowing air into her lungs.

Finally, after several frantic minutes, he heard her cough and felt her chest move. And then she drew a shuddering breath. And another. And yet another.

He closed his eyes, crying with relief.

When the yacht arrived ten minutes later, Hermione was inside the boat, still unconscious. But she was alive. Ron didn't care about anything else.

Black Sea, September 30th, 2005

Ron woke up with a start. Where was he? What had happened? Then he remembered. The yacht had arrived. He and Harry had lifted Hermione on board, he had carried her to their cabin, had the medic examine her, then…

"You're early."

Hermione! He turned his head. She was lying next to him, a few books and notebooks spread out on her side of the bed.

"Early?" he managed to say.

"I expected you to sleep a little longer," she replied. With a frown, she added: "It seems my calculations and estimates are off lately."

Oh. "You said that the duration couldn't be predicted very precisely," he told her, reaching out to grab her hand.

"But I should have at least gotten the safety margins correct," she said. "I almost…" She trailed off, shuddering.

"Almost but not quite," he told her, rolling over and sitting up to hug her. She didn't start to relax until a few seconds later, though. He held her for a while, then withdrew. "So… I fell asleep instead of collapsing?"

"I assume so, yes. But I was still unconscious, so I can't be sure."

So his memory wasn't faulty. "And we're safe?"

"We've spent half a day sailing away from the Russian coast," she told him. "And we haven't been attacked."

He wanted to ask whether the crew had taken measures to ensure that there would be witnesses around, in case the Russians decided to ignore both international law and caution, but they were still afloat - alive - and Dumbledore had picked the crew. He had to trust them. Even though he didn't like it. "What about the others?"

"Luna and Ginny will be asleep by now - it's almost midnight. Harry and Sirius are still asleep, or should be."

"Good." Everyone was alright then. He closed his eyes and hugged her again.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"It wasn't your fault," he replied. "Just bad luck." And not enough planning and intel. They had messed up.

"I should have predicted this eventuality and planned for it. At least this time, I only endangered myself."

"Everyone knew the risks." He released her again and looked at her. She had told them that the duration could vary a lot.

"I should have known better."

"You can't blame yourself for everything that went wrong. Well, you can, but it'd be wrong," Ron told her with a grin.

She scowled at him, which was a step up from blaming herself, in his opinion.

Mission accomplished.

Black Lake, Scotland, Britain, October 4th, 2005

It had taken them a few days to return to base, so to speak. They couldn't be too obvious, though Ron didn't think that the Russians would be fooled for long. Even if they had to search the entirety of the Black Sea coast and did know their identities.

But Dumbledore's men had come through, and after a few days spent in Bulgaria, two flights with private jets brought them first to Germany and then to Scotland, where two SUVs awaited them for the last leg of their journey back to Hermione's lab.

And to Dumbledore, Ron added with a sigh as he saw the building appear in front of them. Who would certainly have some words to say about the mission.

The cars passed the guards and a quick inspection, then drove straight into the subterranean garage. Filch was waiting for them, as usual. The wide smile he wore was unusual, though. Unusual, but not unexpected.

"I see operational security isn't the best," Sirius said as they left the cars. "Standards must be slipping."

"Mr Dumbledore trusts me," Filch retorted.

Sirius sniffed in return. "Nobody's perfect. Now make yourself useful and handle the baggage, will you?"

"You've got a big mouth for someone who failed his mission," Filch shot back through clenched teeth - Ron could spot the clenched muscles in the man's face as they walked past him.

"Shows what you know," Sirius said, baring his teeth at the man.

As soon as they were in the lift, though, Sirius rolled his eyes. "What a despicable, odious little man," he muttered.

"Careful, your upper-class bias is showing," Harry told him with a snort.

"It's not bias if it's the truth. That man was an enlisted soldier. Probably in the rear. And discharged for dereliction of duty. No, some minor crime." Sirius scoffed. "And now, petty as he is, he tries to get one up over his betters after a perfectly understandable minor setback."

Ron coughed, which earned him a glance and a frown from the older man.

Luna didn't show as much restraint. "What would have been a major setback or a complete failure, then?"

"A major setback would have been failing to acquire any intel at all. And a complete failure would have been our deaths," Sirius replied.

Well, Ron couldn't say he was wrong. But he wouldn't say they had been successful, either.

Dumbledore didn't show up before it was dinner time and Ron had to fetch Hermione from her lab. He didn't know whether this was due to travel schedules or planning, but he bet on the latter - the old man would have known when they would arrive days in advance. But did Dumbledore want them to stew a little longer about their mistakes before rubbing it in or did he want them to settle in and relax a little - decompress - after their hairy mission? Probably a little bit of both, Ron thought with a snort as he knocked and entered the lab. "Hermione! Dinner time!" he yelled - after checking that she wasn't in the midst of fiddling with high-powered machinery.

"Already?" she asked, frowning, as she looked up from her desk.

"Well, taking the time needed to get presentable into account, yes, already," he told her. "You wouldn't want to meet Dumbledore all scruffy-looking, would you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, and her frown deepened. "I'm not scruffy-looking, you nerf herder!"

He laughed at her comeback. "Not if you freshen up a little," he replied, looking pointedly at her hair, which was straying more than a little from her ponytail.

He turned to look at her equipment to hide his smirk as she grumbled and fixed her hair, or at least made a valiant attempt at doing so. "So… nothing broke down in our absence?"

"Why would anything break down?" she replied. "Machines don't spontaneously break down after a few days of inactivity. At least not if they are constructed and stored properly," she quickly added before he could point out any of the exceptions - like cars that were left parked for too long.

"Well… you never know when quantum physics is involved, right?" he replied instead.

She rolled her eyes in return, muttering something about science fiction having a lot to answer for as she got up from desk and headed towards him. "Let's go, then."

He smiled and held the door open for her.

"How are the others doing?" she asked in the hallway.

He shrugged. "Everyone but you spent the afternoon in bed." Travelling was tiring, even if you had private jets and luxury SUVs at your disposal. She blushed a little, and he blinked. Oh. "We needed the rest," he added, lest she think he was criticising her decision to get back to work because he had wanted to fool around instead.

That caused her to press her lips together. "I'm fine."

Avoid one accidental insult, only to blunder into another… He chuckled. Which, of course, made her even more annoyed. "I know."

She looked confused for a moment, then frowned.

"Come on," he told her. "I bet Dumbledore is already waiting to debrief us over an excellent meal. And no blaming yourself!" he added, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Okay?"

He didn't think she would listen to him, but at least they weren't arguing any more.

Dumbledore was indeed already waiting for them when they entered the lounge for dinner. "Good evening, Dr Granger, Mr Weasley. I took the liberty of inviting myself to dinner."

"Good evening." Ron nodded at him. So the old man wasn't pretending to ask to join them, not tonight. That wasn't a good sign, even though he seemed as friendly as always. "It's your house, anyway, and we're your guests."

Hermione nodded, a little more sharply, "Good evening, sir."

"Good evening, Mr Dumbledore!"

"Hello! Oh, that looks scrumptious!"

Sirius followed by Luna entered the lounge, the latter heading straight to the table where a basket containing several different kinds of bread had been placed.

"Good evening." Dumbledore's smile didn't change at all. "Please have a seat." He made a little show out of craning his neck to look down the hallway. "I trust Mr Potter and Miss Weasley will not be long?"

"They shouldn't," Ron replied. He had woken them up before he had fetched Hermione, after all.

"Indeed, here they are!"

Another round of 'good evenings' followed before everyone was seated and the meal began. The old man smiled and was pleasant, making small talk while they enjoyed an excellent selection of tapas, followed by a potato soup and a salad, both with quite expensive mushrooms, before the main course of veal tenderloin in cream sauce - that, in Ron's opinion, even Mum couldn't have done better.

He had just finished when Dumbledore finally dropped the pretence, if not his smile. "Now, I believe we have a mission to discuss, do we not?"

Ron sighed silently. This wouldn't be pretty.

"Please tell me, in your own words, how the mission went," Dumbledore said in a mild voice.

Sirius took it upon himself to answer, as they had agreed on the way back from the Black Sea: "We successfully made landfall on schedule using the yacht's zodiac, hid the supplies we couldn't carry with us, then took cover in a cave while we studied the target compound. Harry, Ron, Hermione and myself then infiltrated the compound. Unfortunately, due to bad luck, Hermione was discovered while hiding by Yaxley and another British traitor. She killed the traitor, who had apparently murdered her counterpart, but was captured by Yaxley. He brought her to Kirikov, but Ron managed to follow them without being spotted while Harry and I prepared a distraction in the form of an attack on the garage and house. When Ron jumped them, we attacked and destroyed the garage, pinning the guards down and covering Hermione and Ron's retreat. Yaxley was killed, but Kirikov escaped, although not before his base caught fire. The yacht could have intercepted him, but the Russian navy intervened, and they had to withdraw. We moved out and rejoined Luna and Ginny, then, using a drone as a distraction, entered the sea and swam, underwater, to the yacht."

"A succinct summary," Dumbledore told him, smiling widely. Ron felt relieved - it looked like their story would be accepted. "And how would you judge the mission's success?" the old man went on.

Sirius grinned in response. "We confirmed that it was Kirikov behind the attacks, and we discovered why he was trying to kidnap Hermione: One of the scum he turned traitor during the Cold War murdered her counterpart."

Dumbledore slowly nodded. "You are, of course, correct, though there is also the fact that the mission's objective wasn't merely to gather information."

"We also destroyed his base and deprived him of a significant number of men," Sirius said, baring his teeth.

"Yet Kirikov escaped, and - according to your own information and observations - we have to assume that he has informed the Russian government." Dumbledore sounded as if he was talking about the weather. "I fear that, on balance, the resources our enemies can direct at us have been increased by an order of magnitude. Perhaps two."

"For that, Putin would have to believe Kirikov," Harry retorted. "And the man has no proof for his story."

"None that we know of, now that Mr Grey has suffered his well-deserved fate," Dumbledore said. "But it would be rather reckless, almost blindly optimistic, to assume that President Putin will simply dismiss his old comrade as a lunatic."

"I don't think they were overly close," Ron pointed out, "otherwise, Kirikov would have boasted more about it. And I'm no former spy, but I doubt that Putin will blindly trust Kirikov - especially since both are former KGB officers."

"I concur," Dumbledore replied. "Russian paranoia was rampant during the Cold War. Even, or especially, within the KGB. However, I fear that President Putin will order a quite thorough investigation - including an exhaustive and quite possibly enhanced interrogation of Mr Kirikov."

Ron drew a breath through clenched teeth. That was true, as far as he knew.

"So," the old man continued, "that leaves the question of what such an investigation might reveal."

"Nothing!" Harry snapped. "We didn't leave any traces."

Indeed - the fire had destroyed the blood Ron had left back in the house. Although… "They took blood samples from Hermione," he said, "and we don't know if they were destroyed with the house."

"So that's how they confirmed Dr Granger's presence," Dumbledore said, nodding in acknowledgement. "And then there are a few hundred bullets, residue from explosives, the odd small arm, wreckage from a remote-controlled toy..."

"Technically, it was a drone!" Luna piped up.

"A drone, then." The former spymaster chuckled, before growing serious again. "As well as whatever equipment you left behind when you exfiltrated."

"We left no DNA traces and no fingerprints," Ron told him. "And the fire will have destroyed a lot of evidence. No proof left."

"Spoken from experience, no doubt," Dumbledore acknowledged. "Albeit as a police officer. In the spy business, we're rarely concerned about the legal niceties, or proof beyond any reasonable doubt." He leaned forward, putting his hands on the table. "The Russians know - or will soon - about Dr Granger. The question is: What exactly do they know?"

"They suspect that I'm from another dimension," Hermione replied. "Unless Kirikov's opinions are dismissed as delusional, they will assume I can travel between dimensions."

And teleport, Ron added silently. Or apparate, as Hermione called it.

"Indeed. Though I don't think that this is all they will assume - or deduce." Dumbledore inclined his head. "The manner of your arrival within Kirikov's base, as well as the way you chose to leave Russia, both lead to interesting conclusions."

Ron glanced at Hermione. She was pressing her lips together - she must have also realised that Dumbledore wasn't just talking about the Russians' conclusions.

And so did the old man, judging by the way his smile twisted slightly. "I'm a very experienced spy, Dr Granger. In my time, I've gone on several missions few would have survived, and I have ordered even more. I'm well aware of the current state of the business, so to speak. And yet, I cannot fathom how you managed what you obviously achieved. Mr Weasley following Mr Yaxley without being spotted by the guards? Being able to surprise Kirikov? The man is a former KGB agent, and you were attacking him in his home. He wouldn't have started an interrogation if he hadn't felt secure and prepared for any eventuality." He looked directly at Ron. "And, while you are a remarkably talented young man, Mr Weasley, you've never been trained for this sort of work. Which means either Kirikov had hired inept guards or you were allowed to rescue Dr Granger and escape."

Damn. Ron cursed under his breath. The old man had seen through their story.

"But what would be the point of letting you escape? You wouldn't lead them to us; you checked for tracking devices, as did my men." Dumbledore shook his head. "And I doubt that Kirikov would have trusted his safety to guards so easily fooled. No, I believe there's a third explanation: You used Dr Granger's special assets. Heavily. And, unless I'm greatly mistaken, you left witnesses alive who saw everything."

"Only Kirikov," Sirius retorted. "And he already knew or suspected that Hermione was a dimensional traveller."

"Perhaps. But there is more. You managed to escape from Russia using the very method you dismissed as too dangerous to enter the country, which almost led to Dr Granger drowning. Yet none of the scuba gear you allegedly used was seen or recovered."

"We sank them with the underwater sledge," Ginny told him.

"You don't strike me as so wasteful, Miss Weasley." Dumbledore smiled at her. "Nor as careless as to divest yourself of equipment that might save your life, should the yacht fail to arrive. But that is just one part of the puzzle. There's more, of course." He turned to address Hermione. "That you, Dr Granger, were discovered, yet your friends couldn't intervene and save you even though Mr Weasley managed to follow you while remaining hidden. The way Mr Weasley and Dr Granger walked through fire and emerged unscathed. The way you managed to infiltrate the compound in the first place." His smile turned rather ominous. "The way you carefully avoid mentioning something in your conversations, a secret of which you are all aware."

Ron kept his face impassive. Dumbledore was building up to something. He glanced at Hermione. She was putting up a good front, but he wasn't sure if it would fool Dumbledore.

"Do you know the saying 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth'?" Dumbledore tilted his head slightly.

"Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote that for Sherlock Holmes," Hermione replied stiffly.

"Correct. And there's another quotation which I think is appropriate here," Dumbledore went on with a broad smile. "Or, rather, the reverse of it." After a moment of complete silence, he said: "'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'"

She was panting as she ran after Ron and Harry. They had to reach the Room of Requirement. Find the last Horcrux. And destroy it. Seventh floor - quite a way up. And the stairs were acting oddly. Not surprising, after almost a year of Death Eaters running things at Hogwarts.

She could hear screams and explosions from below. People were fighting. And dying. But they had their mission. They couldn't afford to stop to help their friends fight. This was too important.

If she told herself that enough times, she might even believe it.

They reached the sixth floor and stopped - there was a body in the middle of the floor. Hermione gasped - it was Lisa Turpin, a Ravenclaw from their year. And it was clear that she hadn't died from a quick Killing Curse - she had bled out.

"Someone's near!" Harry hissed.

She moved to the side, towards the wall, wand rising. Death Eaters.

"Harry? Harry Potter?" A sniffling voice asked.

That didn't sound like a Death Eater - but you could never be too careful. She kept her wand trained on the corner, where the voice came from.

Two - three - students came round the corner, clinging to each other. Ravenclaws. Probably fourth- or fifth-years. "They… they killed her. We couldn't do anything."

Oh.

Ron nodded at them. He even managed to smile, she noted. "Alright. We're here to help. Go to the kitchens. The elves will show you an escape tunnel. Can you cast a Disillusionment Charm?"

The tallest shook his head. "They took our wands. We only get them for lessons."

She could hear another explosion from below them and bit her lower lip. Sending them down there while they were helpless… But they couldn't take them with them. Shaking her head, she reached into her bag and pulled out their spare wands. "Take these, and be careful."

She looked at Ron and Harry after they'd sent the three Ravenclaws on their way. "I couldn't let them go down there defenceless," she said.

Ron nodded, as did Harry. And Hermione felt a little better about leaving the others to fight the Death Eaters.