Once again, My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.
Chapter 52: The Reconnaissance Mission
Black Lake, Scotland, January 11th, 2006
"The Russians will expect us," Ron pointed out.
"Indeed, they will be prepared for us," Dumbledore replied. "They have been tightening their border security ever since their last attack on British soil - incidentally, they cited the fact that 'so many criminals managed to leave the country without being noticed' as a reason for the increased security. I've no doubt that President Putin has also significantly increased the Kremlin's security, though I've not yet acquired proof of that. However, it goes without saying that we should assume the worst."
"They don't know our real capabilities, though," Hermione said. "They won't know that we can use Veritaserum and alter memories."
"I fear that won't matter as much as you hope, Dr Granger." Dumbledore shook his head. "The Russian government has a long tradition of paranoia. They've been expecting traitors to appear in their ranks for decades." He sighed. "Unfortunately, in a reversal of our own situation, we were never able to insert as many spies and turn as many officials, not by far, as they assumed we had. But we can be assured that any official involved in the portal affair will be closely monitored by FSB guards."
"Or already dead and buried," Grindelwald added with a sneer. "That's how the Russians work."
"That's how most governments would work if they didn't have to at least pay lip service to public opinion and their own propaganda," Luna interjected. "Like when the French sank the Rainbow Warrior."
"Well, that was quite a blunder for our French colleagues," Dumbledore said. "I was quite surprised that the affair came to light."
Grindelwald sniffed and probably muttered something uncomplimentary about the French under his breath. Ron couldn't make out the words, but by now, he was quite familiar with the man's attitude and views.
"That is quite informative, but it doesn't help us plan how to deal with Putin," Harry said.
"Knowing what to expect and that we cannot afford to underestimate Putin is quite helpful, I'd say," Dumbledore retorted. "But I take your point. As a matter of fact, I have some thoughts about how we can leverage magic to gather more information." His polite smile twisted slightly, almost turning into a smirk.
Black Lake, Scotland, January 13th, 2006
Wizarding Harry and Ron didn't look very happy when they arrived through the portal, followed by Hermione, Ron noticed. So she had managed to convince them but not without some friction. If Ron had been with her, perhaps… no, that would have made things more awkward.
"So this is the other world," Ron's counterpart said, looking around.
"Welcome," Ron told him with a tight smile. "And thank you for helping us."
The wizard snorted. "We wouldn't have to do this if you'd stuck with your original plan. Hiring an untrustworthy Healer…" He shook his head.
"He isn't exactly untrustworthy," Hermione said. "As I explained, we merely want some… safeguards while we're dealing with an urgent problem."
"If he were trustworthy, you wouldn't need our help," wizarding Harry retorted.
"Let's agree that he's unlikely to betray us, but it never hurts to take more precautions?" Ron suggested with a smile that he didn't quite mean.
The way both wizards frowned at him told Ron that, yes, his presence at Hermione's side would have made things more awkward. And that they could see through his act. Well, the other Ron was his counterpart, so that was to be expected.
"And we should go with you to deal with whatever problem you have," wizarding Harry told Hermione.
"You can come - once we're doing more than just some information gathering," she replied. "In fact, we're counting on your help. But right now, we need you here, making sure that the portal is safe."
Her two friends nodded, though Ron could see that they did so grudgingly. Well, that wasn't his problem. He had a recon mission deep in the heart of Russia to prepare for.
North of Hoilola, Eastern Finland, January 16th, 2006
Ron looked around. They were in a small clearing, surrounded by dense forest - apart from the cove leading to a small lake. He couldn't see any witnesses. Or threats. The snow would hide a lot, though.
"Ah, the memories!"
Dumbledore sighed loudly as he stepped out of the SUV that had brought him here. 'Here' being a pretty deserted spot of land in Eastern Finland with nothing to recommend it to a tourist other than being close to the border with Russia. Well, that was why they had spent close to a day travelling here.
The old spymaster turned to face the rest of the group as they left the two cars as well. "The last time I was here … well, I wouldn't call them innocent times, but they were different times. Very different."
Ron nodded. The middle of the Cold War.
"I still say that your previous visit means this area might be under special surveillance." Hermione was still trying to win the argument she had lost in Britain. Stubborn to a fault.
"On the contrary!" And Dumbledore obliged her every time. "President Putin won't expect us to cross the border here. Not that expecting it would help him, anyway."
Ron wasn't quite certain that this particular gambit would work as Dumbledore expected it to, but he couldn't disagree with the fact that the odds of even a prepared border guard being able to stop them were very low.
Dumbledore rolled his shoulders and sighed again. "This takes me back fifty years!" The black turtleneck the old man was wearing, matching his black pants, certainly looked like vintage clothes.
Ron couldn't help feeling that Dumbledore was more motivated by his desire to relive his newly found, well, middle age would probably be correct, rather than by a real need to be on this mission. But Rosengarten had given the old man a clean bill of health, and Dumbledore had managed to keep up with the Lunas during one of their morning runs. In addition, the old spymaster wasn't just trusted not to be a traitor, but also the most experienced among them when it came to Russia. And a good shot with both pistol and rifle as well.
Still, if he weren't paying for this, didn't speak Russian like a native and had assets in place in the country, Dumbledore wouldn't be here. The mission was to gather intel and, if possible, get Putin - not to recapture Dumbledore's youth.
"We still have a few hours until night falls," Dumbledore said. "Shall we rest a little before we brave the border?"
Ron had spent most of the few hours until night had fallen with Hermione inside the tent. January in Finland wasn't exactly a good time to spend outdoors. Not even if you were bundled up with the best cold-weather gear money could buy. To think people had fought wars in this weather…
Ron shivered as he climbed out of the trunk and then climbed out of the boot of the SUV in which they had placed it. Yes, too damn cold. Even Scotland wasn't this bad.
"I think we should've prepared a miniature helicopter," Luna said with a pout.
"We have to assume that the Russians are aware of our use of drones," Dumbledore, who didn't seem to mind the cold at all, told her. "They will have improved their defences, and while they couldn't possibly have upgraded their radar stations at every point along their borders, they will have prioritised their western borders."
"Not to mention that we'd have had to build a helicopter which could be piloted by shrunken people," Sirius pointed out. "That wouldn't have been a small task."
Luna pouted even more, though Ron couldn't say whether it was at not having gotten a helicopter to pilot, or at Sirius's rather inelegant wordplay. "What about a shrunken flying tank?"
"No," Hermione said when Sirius perked up.
"It would be safer than a broom," the older man protested.
"Only if we've actually been spotted, and even then, we'd have trouble evading the response by the Russian air force," Ron retorted. "Shrunken tanks have shrunken armour as well." He shook his head - they had gone over this before. Several times. "Let's do this," he said.
"Yes," wizarding Luna agreed. "Before we attract the attention of the ice fairies. They love to play pranks on humans in winter."
"There aren't any ice fairies in this world," Hermione pointed out.
"We can't know that," the other witch replied. "If magic is possible here, they could exist. Some noted Magizoologists theorised that elemental creatures could spontaneously come into being in an area that was particularly attuned to their chosen element." She smiled. "And without wizards to check, they would remain undetected in this world. After all, the stories about magic in this world are the same or close to the same as in our world. And isn't that telling?"
"It is a mystery, but I doubt that there are magical creatures in this world. And if there were, they would soon be discovered by muggles," Hermione retorted.
Wizarding Luna shook her head. "That depends on the species."
"In any case," Hermione said, a little sharply, "we are on a time table and should cross the border now. We can discuss magical creatures once we're safely in the Russian countryside."
"Words I would never have sincerely spoken in my youth," Dumbledore said. "Nor would I have ever expected to infiltrate a hostile country in a quite so luxurious a manner."
Ron pressed his lips together. It might be comfortable to travel inside the enchanted trunk, but they would be travelling blind as well. And without a way to even talk to Hermione, who would be flying on brooms with wizarding Luna.
He hated it. But there was no other way - or, rather, there was no better way. Shipping themselves into Russia? The FIS might intercept the shipment because the addresses used as a cover were compromised, and then they would have to try and fight their way out of an FIS base. Having Hermione and Luna disillusion everyone and use brooms to cross the border? A recipe for disaster since Ron and the other muggles wouldn't be able to see each other. And flying tanks or cars? He snorted. They couldn't wait the weeks to months enchanting one would take.
No, it was best to trust Hermione and wizarding Luna to handle this without problems. And the odds that they would mess up were slim, anyway - they only had to fly low to avoid the radar and follow the roads.
He still couldn't help worrying as he kissed Hermione before returning to the tent inside the trunk.
Republic of Karelia, Russia, January 16th, 2006
It took about two hours until a familiar soft chime alerted Ron to the fact that someone had opened the trunk. He stepped out of the tent, pistol ready. Just in case.
But instead of some burly Russia border guard, there was no one. Wait… "Hermione?"
"She's still setting up the Muggle-Repelling Charms," a voice answered him - wizarding Luna. "Don't go outside, by the way - the charms might make you leave us. They're not very discerning. And since you're not disillusioned, you would be seen by any muggles in the area, too."
"Or satellites," Luna, standing behind him, added.
"Those, too, yes." Wizarding Luna faded into view, holding a broom and her wand. "To think muggles can spy on us from so far away…" She shook her head. "They didn't tell us that in Muggle Studies."
"That's because the course books were written before mankind reached orbit."
That was Hermione! She, too, turned visible behind wizarding Luna, on the stairs. She flicked her wand, and the lid slid closed.
"I've concealed and protected the area outside. As Luna said, don't go outside without one of us - you might find yourself walking straight into a border patrol while making up reasons why you cannot come back to us."
That was a rather disturbing notion. Ron would've preferred a way to hide that didn't run the danger of accidentally mind-controlling themselves, but it sounded far more effective than a simple invisibility zone. "Let's talk inside," he said, stepping into the tent. The trunk's interior was too damn cold - if the Russians had a satellite pointed at the area that allowed them to look into the infrared spectrum, they would notice warm air escaping, charms or no charms.
"I need to finish a spell that acts as an air barrier," Hermione said as she followed him.
"Yes," wizarding Luna agreed. "With that, we could shelter ice fairies inside here in the summer. Once we spot a few, I mean."
"I hope we won't be in Russia in the summer," Ron told her. That would mean their surveillance hadn't been successful. Or they had been captured by the Russians and imprisoned. Although that would also mean that Hermione's friends had failed to save them, which Ron thought would be unlikely. His and Harry's counterparts didn't have Ron's experience with these sort of operations, much less Dumbledore's, but with Grindelwald's help, they would certainly have a good go at it.
Not that Ron was planning on needing them to come to the rescue, ever. He might not be a wizard, but he could take care of himself and his friends.
And as far as Ron could tell, Dumbledore hadn't gotten up - the old spymaster was still sitting at the table. Harry and Sirius, though, were just putting their pistols away, and Ron saw that an M4 carbine was leaning against the part of the couch Ginny was sharing with Harry.
"I trust that we're safe," Dumbledore said with a smile. Did he honestly trust them to have picked a good place to hide for the night? Or was this another act, like his vintage spy act? And what was his goal?
Ron didn't know.
"Yes," Hermione told him. "We're currently in the middle of a forest, east of the main road to Moscow. There aren't any hiking trails or roads nearby."
"And not many wolves, I think," wizarding Luna added. "Even though this would be perfect territory for a pack of dire wolves."
"Perfect." Dumbledore nodded with a smile.
"Yes, perfect, as I said," wizarding Luna repeated herself with a matching smile.
Ron couldn't tell if she had really misunderstood Dumbledore's comment or not.
"So, we managed the first step of our mission - we've successfully infiltrated Russia," Dumbledore told them as he spread a map on the table. "Since we're now well behind the border, we shouldn't have any trouble making our way into the Moscow region using the same method of transportation."
"As planned," Hermione said.
"Yes." The old man nodded. "Once we are near Moscow, however, we'll have to take the Russians' security into account. They will expect us, even though I doubt that they will be prepared for our actual methods." He grinned. "Although I doubt that putting up a tent in one of Moscow's parks would be a good idea."
Ron rolled his eyes even as the Lunas giggled. They had gone over this in Scotland.
And while Ron wasn't fully on board with the plan, he at least wouldn't whine about it during the mission. Unless he discovered a flaw in the plan, of course.
Outskirts of Moscow, Russia, January 18th, 2006
Ron hadn't expected a luxury hotel suite - the Russians would be checking every tourist and all other visitors to Moscow, and fake IDs only went so far - and he understood that they shouldn't leave a paper trail, but… "A shed?"
"It's perfect for our needs," Dumbledore said, his breath fogging up in the cold air. "It hides us from view, the roof will block and diffuse our heat signature enough to fool thermographic sensors, and the owners of this plot of land obviously won't need it over winter since it was empty except for a few gardening tools. Which means they won't be inconvenienced by Dr Granger's SEP field."
Ron stared at the old man with his mouth slightly open. Had Dumbledore just…
"He was one of my favourite authors," Dumbledore confirmed with a soft smile. "Passed away far too young, alas."
"Ah." Ron didn't quite know what to make of that. Douglas Admas had been a great author. Some of his books were among Ron's all-time favourites. But to find out that Dumbledore liked them as well? That didn't feel right. "It also limits us to magical travel, though," he pointed out. "We can't exactly enter and leave a farm without arousing suspicion."
"We would have been faced with the same problem in Moscow proper," the old man countered. "And with far more scrutiny by people who are actively looking for us - and are aware we might be able to turn invisible." He smiled again. "Not to mention that finding a spot where we could place an enchanted trunk without risking discovery could have been a little tricky."
The old man had, as he usually did, a point. Even though setting up a spy base on a floor of a high-rise that everyone would avoid and ignore would have been great. The possibilities…
"Besides, I doubt that we would have found discreet accommodations that could rival the rooms in the tent."
Ron disagreed - the space inside the tent was limited, even though it was a generous limit, and the furniture had seen better days - but he nodded anyway. No point in arguing. Not in this blasted cold. How did the Russians survive in this hellhole?
A popping sound next to him made him whirl round and almost draw his gun before he recognised Hermione. "Everything's set up," she announced. "We should be safe from any Russian visitors, benevolent or otherwise."
Dumbledore snorted in return. "Gellert would surely say something about Russians never being benevolent, but I agree with you."
Hermione nodded curtly and entered the trunk, rubbing her gloved hands together.
As before, the temperature in the trunk was almost as cold as outside - no need to take unnecessary risks - but as soon as they stepped into the tent that changed and all three of them quickly shed their thick jackets, gloves and headgear.
"Oh, good, you're finally back!" Ginny greeted them in the living room, then turned back towards the kitchen. "Harry! We can start dinner!"
"Another advantage," Dumbledore commented as they sat down at the table. "We don't have to fear being poisoned by the hotel restaurant staff."
"Did the Russians actually do that?" Ron asked.
"Let's just say their attempt to use a chemical agent in the Moscow Theatre Hostage Crisis in 2002 was based upon earlier operations - although operations on a much, much smaller scale," Dumbledore said. "But what worked against a single agent or a small team couldn't safely be used against hundreds of people of all ages and genders, and the results, as we know, were tragic."
And they were about to spy on the same people who had run that operation.
Great.
Outskirts of Moscow, Russia, January 19th, 2006
"...and our preliminary reconnaissance flight showed that while they have increased the security around the Kremlin, there are still several gaps we can use," Dumbledore said as he spread out several pictures on the table.
"Did they install radar on the Kremlin?" Sirius asked, pointing at a barely concealed dish. "Wait… Missiles?"
"According to the newspaper we acquired, the official story is that there are credible terrorist threats against the Kremlin," the old spymaster explained. "While they do not go into details, the association with the attack on the World Trade Centre was clearly desired."
"Those are MANPADS - they wouldn't stop a crashing aircraft," Sirius said, shaking his head.
"The average civilian isn't aware of that," Dumbledore retorted. "And it serves as an explanation for the presence of radar."
"And the radar didn't pick you up?" Sirius asked. "According to what I've heard, the newer missiles should be able to lock on to man-sized flying drones."
"We were quite a bit smaller," Hermione replied with a smile. "They would pick up a pigeon before they found us."
"Oh." Sirius blinked. "Great. We won't have to worry about Russian anti-aircraft fire. But we'll be in danger from Russian birds of prey…"
"Unless avians suddenly develop radar senses, we'll be safe from them as well," Hermione retorted. "And we're too large to be hunted by bats."
"Ah."
Sirius didn't sound very reassured. Ron could understand it, of course - he still had the occasional nightmare about giant spiders hunting him.
But it was certainly a good way to avoid the Kremlin's security. At least for reconnaissance.
Kremlin, Moscow, Russia, January 20th, 2006
They were disillusioned, had been shrunk and were now flying a few yards above the heads of the people below. Far too small to be detected by the radar the Russians had installed as anything but a bird. Too small to trip any other sensors that might have been installed in the Kremlin - well, there might be some hermetically sealed rooms further inside where even a shrunken person might trigger an alert.
And they were disillusioned, so no hungry spider or bird should attempt to prey on them. Should - Ron couldn't help feeling as if he was about to be attacked whenever he saw a bird flying nearby. Or resting on one of the windowsills. His rifle - a heavier calibre, again, than the assault rifle he preferred - should deal with most small animals, but if the Kremlin's guards examined a dead bird or other animal and found miniature bullet holes… Or if they caught sight of the bullets suddenly expanding once the spell ended…
He blinked. Letting someone ingest a shrunken rock or something and then cancelling the spell would be a rather gruesome way to kill them. It wouldn't be detected as poison, either, would it? Magically, that was.
He'd have to ask Hermione. Once they weren't flying a few yards above two guards and headed towards a half-open window.
He managed not to hold on more tightly to her as she lined up their broom, and they slipped through the gap and into an office. "Next time, I want to fly the broom," he mumbled as they came to a stop on top of an old-style filing cabinet, "and you can be the gunner. Or the caster."
He heard her huff in response. "I already agreed that you'd pilot once you know the layout."
"It bears repeating."
Another huff followed. "It's not as if I want to pilot," she complained.
"Don't let Luna and Ginny hear that."
Both chuckled at that. Ginny still wanted to play Quidditch, even though they had no way to play it without the MI6 agents noticing. They couldn't exactly disillusion everyone as well as all the balls. It was difficult enough to talk to empty air when he and Hermione were both invisible, especially as he was unable to use a spell to see where she was.
"Let's proceed with the mission," Hermione told him. She inched their broom forward so they could study the Russian man sitting behind an oversized desk below.
A bit too young for a high-ranking official - Putin might not be a democrat, but while he was more than flirting with despotism, nepotism wasn't quite as endemic as in many open dictatorships. But the man also didn't seem to be a typical clerk. Too muscular. Too sharp - at this time of the day, the middle of the afternoon, most office workers tended to be a little less focused. Especially with the heating going at full blast. That was why they were doing this now, after all - people were tired and prone to opening the windows for some fresh air. But the man was a little too diligent. Too focused. "Bait, I think," Ron said.
"Ah. Yes, I think you're right," Hermione replied. "He looks like a soldier rather than a clerk."
Or a thug, Ron thought. "So… skip this office?"
"Hm. A bug won't do any harm, I think," she replied.
He made an agreeing noise. He doubted that the Russians would discuss anything sensitive in the office here, but people might slip up. "But be careful."
"Always."
That was a lie, of course. But she did pick the wall right behind the filing cabinet for their bug.
If you could call an enchanted sphere the size of a small beach ball containing a 'Dictaquill' and a never-ending scroll of parchment with a Protean Charm, as Hermione had explained, a bug. Well, as Hermione had shrunk it - before putting it in her pockets so the spell wouldn't break when she returned to her normal size - it didn't look like a bug. More like some animal's droppings. Which might fool the Russians, should they stumble upon it.
The odds were low, though - Hermione had already opened a hole in the wall's stucco. After putting the sphere inside, Ron heard her mutter 'Reparo' and the broken stucco fixed itself.
"That should be good for a few days at least," she said.
"Yes." One office down, a dozen left.
And the hermetically sealed rooms Ron knew the paranoid Russians would have installed.
Outskirts of Moscow, Russia, January 22nd, 2006
"Say, Hermione… Is it possible to create a portal from here to Scotland?" Ginny asked. "We wouldn't have to sit around in a tent that way." She stretched her arms over her head. "It's really cutting into my training."
"You haven't actually trained on a court in months," Ron pointed out.
His sister frowned at him. "I know. And I really need to start training seriously again." With a smile, she turned to Hermione. "So?"
Hermione put down her notes and sighed. "Unfortunately, my portal only works for dimensional travel."
"What about the Floo?" Harry asked as he entered the living room from the kitchen, still drying his hands with a towel.
"That requires a central hub," Hermione replied, drawing her wand.
Harry held out the towel, and she cast a cleaning charm on it. "Thanks," he said and turned around to return the freshly cleaned towel to the kitchen.
"I think Harry's overdoing it with the cleaning charms," Ron commented.
Now Hermione frowned at him. "I don't think so, and I'm the one casting the charms."
"Yes," Ginny chimed in. "I certainly like having clean towels around."
He rolled his eyes at the implied insult. "That was one camping trip, and I was twelve." He spotted Hermione's raised eyebrows - so his counterpart hadn't done that, had he? He sighed. "I had just read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," he explained. "And I was carrying my towel everywhere."
"Into mud, rain, the lake…" Ginny shook her head, then slid a little to the side so Harry, who had returned, could sit next to her. "Mum wasn't pleased."
Hermione giggled. "I can imagine that."
"I was twelve," Ron repeated himself. "Ginny did worse."
"I'm not the one complaining about clean towels," she retorted. "It's one of the few luxuries we're allowed here."
"Like hot water that never runs out, a giant bathroom and a pantry stocked with delicacies and magical beds," Ron added.
"I've got all that normally," Ginny said. "And Harry would have it, too, if he could convince Sirius to remodel the house."
Ron rolled his eyes again. She didn't have to rub in her wealth. And Harry's.
"Well, enjoy it while we're here - I'm not going to make a career out of cleaning towels," Hermione said.
"But could you enchant them?" Ginny asked.
"I would have to adjust the charms. It's not as easy as it looks," Hermione said.
"Ah." Ginny glanced at Ron. "Like tennis isn't just hitting a ball over a net."
He could point out that he had been thirteen, and terribly jealous of Ginny winning her first tournaments and their parents driving her all over England for her matches. But he wasn't a teenager any more. "Ginny's right, though," he said instead, "a way to travel back and forth easily would be great."
Hermione winced a little. "I know. But it's too far for Apparition, and neither I nor Luna ever learned how to create Portkeys or a Floo Network hub." His surprise must have shown on his face since she frowned and added: "The Floo Network was never feasible; we were moving too much and it would have rendered our safe houses more vulnerable. And creating Portkeys is difficult - and we were staying in Britain, so Apparition was more useful; faster travel and less disorientation."
"Less disorientation?" Ginny blurted out. "Just how bad are 'Portkeys'?"
"It feels like a hook around your navel pulling you towards your destination," Hermione explained. "But that's just the official description. It actually feels like you're being spun around at high speed for the duration of the trip - and it's not instantaneous. When they were used to transport students to Hogwarts, the infirmary was filled for days with dizzy and nauseous students. St Mungo's recommends that the elderly don't use them."
Ron grimaced. "Why would anyone use them at all?" Apart from some wizards being gluttons for punishment.
"Because not everyone can apparate, or disillusion themselves so they can use a broom during the day, and the Floo Network doesn't cover everywhere. And it's a handy way to transport large numbers of people, especially in staggered groups."
Harry shook his head. "If Sirius were here, he would once more ask for an invisible flying tank."
Ron snorted, and he wasn't the only one. Sirius was currently busy helping Dumbledore sort through yesterday's parchments. He didn't speak Russian, but he could read enough Russian to be of some use to the old spymaster - who spoke Russian perfectly, of course. Still, they would probably not finish until dinner, at which point the next batch would be ready. And the Lunas were adding more bugs already.
Damn, he was thinking of them. And he didn't want to. They were alone in the Kremlin, shrunken, flying around. If anything went wrong…
He shook his head. He had to trust them. Just as he had to trust his friends and family. And Dumbledore, even if he didn't want to.
The Lunas returned a little later than expected, but hale and whole. "We did it!" Luna announced with a wide smile.
"Great," Ron told her with a smile that, or so he hoped, wouldn't show how relieved he was to see them back. "Any trouble?"
"Yes," wizarding Luna replied at once. "Unfortunately, the Russians aren't as uncaring about the environment as we thought - it took a while to find an open window. I could've blown a hole in a window and repaired it afterwards, but Luna said that would be noticed because there are wires in the windows."
"Ah." Yes, that would have been dangerous. Ron nodded. "We'll have to take that into account."
"A Drying Charm directed at someone's head might make them open the window, but the size difference is so huge when we're shrunk, I don't think the average Russian would notice any spell I cast."
Ron made a mental note that spell effects shrank with their caster. That meant attacking while shrunk wasn't advisable. Pity - Putin felled by people smaller than a mouse would've been a riot.
"Is Albus still working?" Luna asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"Yes."
Luna frowned. "He shouldn't push himself like that."
"He's the only one who can read and speak Russian," Ron retorted.
"And he likes going over the transcripts," wizarding Luna added.
Ron could believe that. Having records straight from the Kremlin? It must be a dream come true for Dumbledore. It certainly was for Luna. "Well, let's inform him that he'll have more transcripts," he said, "and remind him that it'll soon be time for dinner." Once Harry finished it - as much as he loved the towel cleaning charm, he hadn't let Hermione use magic to keep a meal hot and fresh for hours.
"Yes."
Dumbledore's room, which also served as his office, was at the end of the hallway lined with doors. Ron knocked, waited for the old man's "enter", and opened the door.
The old spymaster was seated behind one of two desks Hermione had conjured for him, surrounded by chests and shelves, conjured as well, both almost buried in parchment. "Ah," he said, nodding at them with a wry smile. "You installed more listening devices, I gather?"
"Yes!" Luna announced. "Some of them should already have started transcribing."
"Thank you, my dear." He picked up a stack of parchment from a corner and put it down on his desk, moving three other stacks a little to make room. "It's fortunate that I am a quick reader, or the amount of information to sift through would quickly outpace my efforts."
"Instead, you're slowly getting outpaced?" Ron asked.
Dumbledore laughed. "Oh, I'm quite familiar with this situation. Back when I was in Her Majesty's Secret Service, I could've spent my whole day in Analysis without making a dent into the amount of information that arrived daily. I had good analysts, of course, who sorted through our raw intel, but… part of me always wanted to check every source myself."
Well, the old man had gotten his wish.
"We'd help, but… I never learned Russian," wizarding Luna said. "I wouldn't ever have expected it to be as useful as Mermish or Gaelic."
"Or programming languages," Luna added.
The old man nodded. "Understandable, though… Gaelic?"
"To talk to the Fae," wizarding Luna told him. "In case I ever met them."
"The Fae are real?" Ron blurted out. That was… disturbing. "What are they doing?"
"Well… it's hard to say, what with them hiding Underhill," Luna said. "No one has seen any Fae since before the Statute of Secrecy was implemented, and what records we have don't add up. If only the goblins would stop pretending that they have no ties to the Unseelie Court!"
Ah. Ron would have to ask Hermione about that. But first… "It'll soon be time for dinner," he told Dumbledore, even though the old man was already aware of that, in Ron's opinion.
He didn't miss much, after all.
"I've got news," Dumbledore announced at dinner. "I've been able to confirm our suspicion that President Putin is using a sealed room - a command centre, deep below the Kremlin, built during the Cold War."
"Wait," Sirius interrupted him. "The Kremlin would've been nuked in the first volley if the Cold War had turned hot. And they would've used enough bombs to take out any bunker."
"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "I assume that the bunker also has an underground escape tunnel, so the leaders of the USSR would've evacuated first underground, then out of Moscow. While I trust our American allies would have used enough nuclear bombs to have a ninety-five per cent chance of destroying such a bunker, it would've taken them some time - enough for the Soviet leadership to get away."
Oh. "And do you think the escape tunnel still exists?" Ron asked.
"I would be very surprised if the Russians had filled it in. Especially under Putin. He would know the value of a safe evacuation route."
Well, so did Ron and everyone else present.
"That means the escape route will be guarded and possibly trapped," Harry pointed out. "Not to mention secret."
"Indeed. It's still a weak spot compared to the, ah, direct approach," Dumbledore said.
"But do we actually need it? We can just go after Putin once he's not in the bunker," Ginny said.
"I don't think he'll be leaving the bunker any time soon. I fear doubles will be replacing him in public," Dumbledore told her. "He is a former KGB officer, after all, and he would be aware of the danger 'advanced technology' poses for him."
"But he won't expect magic. We could impersonate his guards or assistants," Hermione said.
"If you manage to learn how to speak Russian well enough to pass simple checks," Dumbledore pointed out. "I do think the direct approach is our best bet, but we need more information."
"We'll do more recon," Ron said, looking at Hermione.
She nodded.
"And? Is it Nott's manor?" Harry asked.
"That would be 'Nott Manor'", she corrected him without taking her eyes off the building in the distance. "And I can't tell, not yet." It wasn't as if wizarding manors had mailboxes with their name on it.
"We've been here for hours," Harry complained.
"And we'll be here for a little longer," Ron said.
"We could set fire to it, see who rushes out," Harry suggested. She knew what kind of fire he meant.
"And what if it's not a Death Eater family?" Ron protested.
"How many non-Death Eater families own such a manor?" Harry shot back.
"Longbottom. Bones. Smith," Ron told him.
"Well, it's not Neville's or Susan's," Harry retorted. "And Smith is a pillock."
"That's not reason enough to set his home on fire," she told him sharply.
Harry huffed, then sighed. "I know. I just…" He shrugged. "I just want to do something. Something useful."
Instead of waiting for more information about their actual mission. She knew that - and felt the same.
But they wouldn't start burning down houses without knowing whether they were valid targets.