Chapter 20 - Deliberate
The morning of the vote Neville was in the kitchen when he heard a nervous voice from behind him ask, "So. How do I look?"
He turned and smiled at the sight of Hermione in her dress robes. She had attempted to wrangle her hair into a bun and was anxiously trying to smooth an almost nonexistent wrinkle out of her sleeve.
"You look like a woman that's about to change the world."
"Really?"
"Really."
After breakfast they made their way to the Ministry where they were met by Harry, Ron, Ernie, Terry, Seamus and Kingsley. Right before the proceedings were scheduled to commence, Neville gave Hermione a hug and slipped a chocolate bar into the pocket of her robe.
"For luck," he whispered. "Open it after you win."
"Thank you," she replied, daring to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before crossing the floor to take her seat. She settled in and gave Neville an anxious look. He gave her an encouraging nod as he stepped back into the crowd.
The debate between the two sides was spirited but mostly civil. After both parties made their final appeals it was time to take the vote.
It was close but to Hermione's relief the legislation passed. Once the official count was announced she found herself surrounded by her friends, hugging and congratulating her while at the same time quickly and efficiently propelling her down the hall to Kingsley's private office. She thanked them for their support then peered around in confusion.
"Harry? Where's Neville?"
The atmosphere in the room changed instantly as everyone went deathly silent.
"Harry?" Hermione asked again, this time with the slightest strain in her voice.
"Check your pocket," said Harry.
"What?"
He quietly repeated, "Check your pocket."
She pulled out the candy bar that Neville had given her earlier.
"Unwrap the paper," he said.
Hermione was utterly lost but did as she was told. When she removed the outer paper she noticed that it had been folded and there was writing on the other side. She opened it and began reading to herself.
My Dear Hermione -
It's 3 am and I'm sitting at the table across the room watching you sleep. Forgive my handwriting as I'm trying to keep the candlelight as faint as possible so as not to disturb you. It doesn't help that I also keep getting distracted by your face. You look so peaceful and all I want to do is curl up next to you and hold you close so you never have to worry about anything ever again.
I'd like to go into far more detail about what I'd do after that but if you are where I hope you are then Seamus is nearby and he has a terrible habit of reading over peoples shoulders when he thinks they aren't looking.
She cut her eyes sideways and caught the redhead blushing and darting his gaze upwards as if he suddenly found the pattern of the ceiling tiles incredibly fascinating. She fought a smile and turned her attention back to the letter.
Don't worry. He'll be too embarrassed to try again for a while. I hope that made you smile. I love it when you smile, especially if I somehow had a hand in making it happen.
I'm rambling now and I know it. I want to stay on this bit - where I talk about how much I love you and thoughts of you being happy because once I write the next part well...that's when I'm afraid everything changes. That's when you're going to be angry with me. Very angry. You may possibly even hate me but if what I'm doing keeps you safe then I hope it is a long and healthy hate.
You see, I've made some alterations to the plan. Like I said, if you are where you're supposed to be then the group that is with you will fill you in on the details. Don't blame them for any of this. I promised that I would do whatever it took to keep you safe and that's what I'm going to do. Everyone in that room with you understands what I mean. Please listen to what they have to say and, above all else, remember what I said the night of the gala. Stay alive. It really is all I ask.
I'm getting back in bed now to enjoy a little more time with you. Sweet Merlin, you're beautiful.
All my love,
Neville
P.S. Congratulations on the vote. Even though its hours away, I know you convinced them to see your side and I am so incredibly proud of you and what you've accomplished. Carry that same determination on to whatever you choose to do next. Whatever it is, you'll be brilliant at it.
The final two sentences caused Hermione's stomach to twist. "Harry? What does this mean?"
"It means that Neville asked us to implement an "Impera" protocol," Harry said.
"A what?"
"Impera. Nev said it was short for a latin phrase meaning 'divide and conquer'.
Terry spoke up. "It's something Nev and a few of the Ravenclaw DA members came up with our last year at school. When we became Aurors we started using it in hostage situations."
"Hostage?" Hermione's head snapped around at that word. "What are you talking about?"
"It's like this, Hermione." Ron stepped forward. "Say Seamus is a bad guy and he has it in for a particular person - Harry for instance. If he grabs Harry and I come along and try to stop him, I'm at a disadvantage."
Seamus moved behind Harry, holding his wand at his friend's throat to demonstrate.
"See?" Ron said, "He already has the person he wants under his control. I have no leverage. But if we manipulate the situation to where Seamus has to grab someone else to get to Harry..."
Seamus then pretended to hold Terry hostage while Harry stepped next to Ron.
"...Then we've divided the bad guy's attention and given us a distraction we can potentially use to our advantage. Seamus can't fully focus on the target," Ron pointed at Harry. "And the agnes at the same time."
"Agnes?" she asked.
Terry nodded. "It's not a girl's name. It's a term we used for the other person in the situation. Latin or French or something. Neville said it meant..."
"Lamb," Hermione whispered. "Like a sacrificial lamb. Something offered up in place of something else. You're trying to tell me that Neville's offering himself up in place of me. That wasn't the plan. That wasn't the plan at all, Harry. The plan was for me to show up alone outside the coffee shop later today and hope that Lyssa would try for me there while the rest of you kept watch nearby."
"I know that's what you wanted, Hermione but that was never going to work. It left you totally exposed. Too many things could go wrong too quickly with no chance for us to intervene. Someone as devious as Lyssa was going to spot that set up a mile away. Besides, look at our history. When have any of the plans we cooked up ever worked the way we thought they would in the first place?"
"This is different and you know it, Harry!" She turned on Kingsley. "You! You're his boss! Why didn't you stop him?!"
The large man held up a note and sighed. "I'm not his boss anymore, Hermione. Neville sent me his resignation yesterday. Effective immediately. He knew what he was doing."
She balled her fists in frustration and rounded on Harry and Ron. "You! You said you were his friends! Why didn't you do something to stop him?!"
"He didn't ask our permission, Hermione," said Ron. "He slipped a note in my pocket before we left the other night asking if Harry and I would back him if it looked like an Impera might become necessary. He sent word early yesterday morning saying it was a go. We've been under the protocol ever since."
"So what, exactly, does this protocol involve?"
Harry guided her into one of the office chairs then sat beside her.
"In this case? Yesterday afternoon we 'leaked' a photo of Neville at the coffee shop that we'd managed to grab before it got published the first time around. Made sure a story got circulated about how he stops by there to buy you a coffee whenever you had something to celebrate. Then early this morning Rita Skeeter reported that her 'sources' indicated that anyone involved in the today's vote were under round the clock Auror protection and would be for the foreseeable future. As soon as it became apparent that the vote was going your way, Neville slipped out and went to the coffee shop. The hope was that Lyssa would feel like she had no other option but to grab him to lure you out."
Hermione felt sick. "Did - did she? I mean, has he been…taken?"
There was another long pause before Ron knelt in front of her and took her hand. "If he's not here by now then…yeah. She has him, Hermione. Now we just wait for you to receive instructions from her."
The next few minutes were some of the longest of Hermione's life. She only half listened as the others went over various scenarios and plans of attack while Seamus and Ernie placed a hidden tracking device in one of her shoes. She about ready to crawl out of her skin when there was a knock at the door and Kingsley's secretary appeared wearing protective gloves and holding a small package.
"Minister? This just arrived by owl for Miss Granger. I followed all the precautions you gave and brought it straight here," she said, placing the object on his desk with great care.
"Thank you, Venetia. Please leave, incinerate those gloves, clear the outer office and cast a few protective wards just to be on the safe side, okay?"
As the woman hurried from the room, Harry gave Hermione a hug then stepped back and assured her, "It'll be all right. We've got you. Both of you."
She gave him a nod as Kingsley tapped the parcel lightly with his wand. It floated a fraction of an inch over the desk then slowly opened to reveal an envelope and a silver quill feather. The envelope opened like a howler but instead of a scream they heard Neville's calm, sure voice saying, "Hermione? It's me. It's okay, love. I'm fine. Don't…"
He was cut short by the sound of a muffled blow and a thud, causing Hermione to flinch. The next voice was now unaltered but just as malevolent as the last time she'd heard it in Kew Gardens.
"If you ever want to see him alive again then take hold of the quill. It's a portkey. Come alone. The key will self-destruct as soon as it is used so no one will be able to follow you. You have two minutes to comply after this message ends. If you aren't here by then I'll kill him and deliver his corpse to you one piece at a time."
Hermione didn't hesitate. Harry tried to grab hold of her but she was too quick for him. She grasped the feather and felt the familiar, unpleasant hook sensation in her stomach before finding herself roughly thrown onto the cold, stone ground in what appeared to be the atrium of an abandoned building.
As she struggled to her feet and fought back the waves of portkey nausea, she wasn't sure exactly where she was but she didn't care. She only had one goal.
Save Neville.
Whatever the cost.