Chapter Thirteen
Armed with Kingsley's permission to explore the Ministry Archives herself, Hermione was tempted to go straight to the Archives when she arrived Tuesday and not leave until she had all of the answers she needed about the mysterious 'Operation Moonlight'. Only Pius' repeated warnings about the danger she could find herself in if the wrong person found out about her research project kept her from doing just that. Despite doubts from both Fenrir and Robert about his trustworthiness, Hermione had no reason to doubt his sincerity. It would be best for all involved if she just waited until all of the clerks in the Archives had gone home for the evening before she made her initial search.
Waiting for the Archives to close made for an exceptionally long day. Hermione tried her best to keep herself occupied to make the time pass faster, but it was difficult. There was only so much that a person could do. All of her current cases were up-to-date. She had all of the information required to complete her weekly and even monthly reports. Each time she offered to help Robert with whatever he was working on, he'd sigh and hand something over with great reluctance. She knew she was annoying him. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to stop.
"Are you really going to wait here until everyone leaves so you can sneak into the Archives alone?"
By half-past seven in the evening Robert could no longer stay another minute. Several times throughout the long day he did what he could to try to persuade her against her plan.
"You have no sense of adventure, Robert. Clearly you never snuck out after curfew at Hogwarts."
The dramatic way he rolled his eyes made Hermione laugh. Even when he wasn't trying, he had a talent for being funny. Those who never got to see past his shy, quiet exterior were missing out on a great deal. It made her sad that so few really knew him.
"No, I never did. It seemed rather foolish to do so in a castle with moving stairs and warnings from the Headmaster that not following the rules could result in a painful death."
He stood up and reached for his cloak.
"Are you absolutely sure that there is nothing I could say to persuade you not to go into the Archives alone?"
"Yes. Nothing."
"I don't know what sort of bewitchment you have him under, and I don't want to know, but I'm certain if anything were to happen to you, Fen would find some way to blame me for it. Accuse me of not keeping you from doing something stupid."
Hermione managed an impression of Robert's dramatic eyeroll from a few minutes earlier she was rather proud of. She didn't want to be reminded that Fenrir was also not a fan of her plan. Did no one in her life trust her to keep herself safe? Why were they so quick to forget all of the times she could've been killed as Harry's best friend but wasn't? She was no damsel in perpetual distress. Just as she told Iain the day before, she could take care of herself.
"You could tell Fenrir yourself that you had no part in this and even tried to stop me if you really wanted. He's probably already outside waiting in the shadows to follow me home."
"I'll never understand the relationship you two have."
Nor would Hermione, she was almost positive. After yet another request that she not go through with her reckless plan, Robert wished her a good night. The waiting became even more unbearable when she was alone. She allowed the concerns of both Fenrir and Robert to get inside her head. Was there a reason she shouldn't trust Pius? Their worries about his less-than-honest past and his tendency to act only in his best interest were valid. If she didn't know the former Minister very well, she would likely even agree, but her instincts told her that he was a good man. How could she in good conscience trust Fenrir knowing about his dark past and not trust Pius?
At half-past eight she could no longer sit still. Rarely was anyone still lingering in the Ministry Archives after eight, but she wanted to make certain it wasn't one of those rare nights one or more of the clerks worked later. While she had an acceptable excuse to be in the Archives even at that late hour, it would be better to not be seen at all.
Just as his letter stated, the door to the Archives was indeed left unlocked. Hermione carefully pushed it open, half-expecting some sort of obnoxious alarm to sound. When she was met with nothing but silence, she exhaled a deep breath and relaxed slightly. Each subsequent step she took inside the familiar department that wasn't met with a disturbance further calmed her nerves. The incessant waiting for that moment to arrive put her on edge. She was fine. When she teased Robert about never sneaking out after curfew, she had been partially serious. It did indeed feel like she was being a naughty Gryffindor out after bedtime again. She chuckled. If she could go back in time to when she was younger knowing what she knew at her age, she would do it in a second. Perhaps school would've been much easier on her overwrought emotional nerves.
It was eerie walking back into the aisles and aisles of records. Over a thousand years of records were housed in that room of varying importance. She was once offered a rather thorough tour of the space by the current Head of the Archives Edgar Bletchley when she first started at the Ministry. Old enough to be her father and indeed already a father to a wizard older than she, he did his best to 'turn on the charm' as her mother would say. Whether he thought she was attractive or he merely wanted to attempt to get some sort of influence being so close to one who was so close to both the Minister for Magic and the 'Chosen One' was never made clear. She politely, yet firmly informed him that she was not interested in pursuing any sort of romantic relationship. His pride had been hurt in the short-term, but his quick recovery from her rebuffs made her think she was right that he just wanted to use her for influence.
Even with the records filed in an impeccable manner of organization, Hermione didn't know where to begin her search. It seemed pointless to go straight to 'O' and look for something titled with the ridiculous name of the operation. If it was indeed as dangerous to poke about and ask questions as Pius claimed, surely it wouldn't be filed out in the open like that. Instead, she began searching in a section she knew held a number of records about werewolves. In her current position, she'd been given the chance to search those records herself, but of course that was in the middle of the day when the Archives was full of clerks and well-lit lamps. Slowly walking around in the dark with only the end of her wand for light was quite different.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been scanning the titles of the files when she first felt that inexplicable sensation that she was being watched. Long enough, she supposed, that she'd allowed herself to get too comfortable. What she was doing wasn't exactly illegal. While she didn't have a fear of being arrested, she did fear some sort of ethical reprimand. At times to her ego that seemed even more disturbing. She knew that her campaign for the freeing of the house-elves tarnished her reputation in the eyes of many Ministry officials. A large number thought her ridiculous, a waste of talent. Moving immediately to the defense of werewolves hadn't helped matters either. A war was fought against evil, but every day, she knew it still existed in the hearts of some of the people she was around. There would always be those who saw werewolves as sub-human 'half-breeds'. It was horrible and the very reason she would continue her crusade to tear down the restrictions that made even just simply living their lives difficult. If that meant she wouldn't be invited to every social event or she was whispered about, that was a sacrifice she could live with. There really were worse things in life than not being in the society pages.
But she couldn't ignore the eerie feeling that she wasn't alone. Was this all some sort of trap to catch her in the act? If it was, she hated to think how Fenrir and Robert would chastise her afterwards. As tempting as it was to rush out of the space without any answers, she wasn't going to allow the unnerving feeling that there might be someone else in the dark keep her from her task. She needed answers, and if it came to the frightening reality that she would have to fight, she wasn't scared. Too many people in her life underestimated her abilities.
It was a quarter past nine when Hermione feared she'd made a mistake. There had been nothing in the section dedicated to werewolves about 'Operation Moonlight', no clue that it had ever even existed. Imagining the possibility that she would have to leave empty-handed was too depressing. Right before she was ready to call it a night, she returned to the 'O' section. Not expecting to find a file marked with the name of the mysterious operation, when her wand light passed over a folder inscribed just so, she had to roll her eyes. So much wasted time when she could've just started there to begin with.
A slight movement of air a few steps away startled Hermione at the very moment she pulled the thin folder off the shelf. Any question as to whether or not she was alone had been answered in her mind. It would be best if she got the answers she was looking for as quickly as possible and went home. Ignoring the heavy beating of her heart and the tremble in her hands, she opened the 'Operation Moonlight' folder.
Only a single scrap of parchment could be found within explaining that the contents of that file had been moved to the 'Restricted Section' of the Archives. Special permission would have to be provided for her to be able to access it. When Kingsley gave her the form to search the Archives, it didn't include the highest classified documents. She scribbled down the reference number. The next morning she would just have to go straight to the top again to get the required permission. Based on the way he seemed interested in the program, she didn't anticipate it would be hard to convince Kingsley.
It was a big relief when she made it out of the Archives and then up to the Atrium without being stopped. If she was being watched, they were satisfied to leave her alone once she left the Archives. A further sense of relief washed over her entire body when she felt the prickling of the skin on the back of her neck indicating that Fenrir was near. She had no doubt that if anyone was foolish enough to try to attack her when he was nearby, they would be dead before they even knew what hit them.
Another pleasant evening passed where they discussed what she'd learned while Fenrir prepared them a late dinner. Not wishing to worry him unnecessarily, she left out the part where she could've sworn she was being followed in the Archives. All she needed was him being even more insistent that she stop searching for answers on his behalf. Once he was certain the wards protecting her house were still intact, they bid each other a goodnight outside the doors to their respective bedrooms.
Early Wednesday morning before she knew that he would get too busy, Hermione headed for Kingsley's office. If he was serious about her not needing an appointment to see him, she would take him up on that offer. Knowing it irked his assistant just a tiny bit certainly helped. The annoyed expression on Gemma Farley's face when she stepped out of his office brightened up Hermione's day immensely.
"The Minister is finishing his breakfast now, but I've been informed that he will gladly see you."
"Thank you, Gemma."
She had to laugh to herself at the witch's upturned nose as she pulled the heavy door closed. Just as promised, Kingsley sat behind his desk devouring the last warm blueberry scone on his plate. A man of habit, he often had the same breakfast. With his mouth full, he gestured to the empty chair across his desk with his hand. She patiently waited until he swallowed to speak.
"Please forgive my intrusion, Kingsley."
"I didn't expect to see you again so soon after our meeting on Monday. Is everything all right? Were you able to find what you needed in the Archives?"
"Not exactly. I found a file about 'Operation Moonlight', but it was nothing more than a note stating the original file has been removed to the Restricted Section and I would require special permission to view it."
Kingsley's forehead wrinkled as his face morphed into a bemused expression. Usually quite diplomatic, he kept his face as neutral as possible when he was in public. Alone with his friends, however, his face could be very expressive. It often made Hermione laugh, but not that morning. She was still too much on edge.
"That's very odd. I thought I was familiar with all of the confidential files deemed highly classified."
He sighed as he reached into his desk for a piece of parchment.
"But I suppose even I am unable to know everything. Do you have the reference number?"
Hermione nodded and handed over her notes from the night before. In just a stroke of his quill, he was able to to give her the required access to view the documents. Never was she more thankful for her close friendship with the Minister. Perhaps she would finally get the answers to her questions in just a few short minutes.
"I know I don't really have to ask you this, Hermione, but procedure requires me to make certain you aren't going to share the restricted files and the information contained within with anyone who doesn't need to know. Is that understood?"
"Of course."
"And the files are not allowed to leave the Archives."
Any hope that she would be able to resume her search quietly was dashed. Once she promised again she would treat the knowledge carefully, Hermione thanked Kingsley for his help and rushed out of his office. She was eager to get started. If 'Operation Moonlight' was deemed 'classified', it made her wonder if her theories about a top-secret serum were accurate. Or maybe it would all be so much worse than she ever imagined. Someone went to great lengths to hide the truth in the Restricted Section. That had to mean something.
Pius was not pleased to see her walk through the door of the Archives. It was unnerving to have the man stare at her with such obvious hostility when he'd always been kind to her in the past. Was he really that frustrated with her for not dropping the research when he told her to?
"Good morning, Pius. There's a file in the Restricted Section that I would like to review please."
Even if he wanted to, he couldn't argue with her or refuse her request once she slid the permission form from Kingsley across the counter. As soon as he recognized it was legitimate, he practically barked at her to follow him. He led her through the aisles she'd looked through the evening before all the way to the back of the Archives. A door she hadn't noticed before appeared on the wall after Pius tapped it with his wand. If he hadn't been so antagonistic, she would've liked to ask him several questions.
Inside the Restricted Section, Hermione had to admit her expectations were let down. She thought she would be ushered into a fascinating room filled with unique and dangerous artifacts or something else that would've given some indication she was in the presence of the biggest secrets of the wizarding world. A sterile white room with boring filing cabinets lining the walls was as far from her fantasy as it was possible to be.
"Sit there. You're not allowed to touch anything but the file I give you."
The wizard went straight to the drawer he needed, knocked three times on the outside with his wand, and muttered an incantation she couldn't quite make out. He carried the file over to the table he ordered her to sit and slammed it down in front of her.
"You are allowed to study this file as long as you would like inside this room. If you try to touch anything else, an alarm will sound and you will be removed from the premises. Is that understood?"
"Yes."
He glared once more at her before turning towards the door.
"Have I done something to upset you, Pius?"
It was a ridiculous question with an obvious answer, but Hermione had to know what he was thinking. The side he was showing her was one she hadn't seen before, one she definitely didn't like. Why was he being so difficult? What was it about her research that made him angry? She was almost too scared to find out.
"Hermione…"
Pius' hand dropped from the doorknob as he released a heavy sigh. The anger was gone from his face when he turned around. In its place was a weary sadness.
"You're asking for trouble. I realize you're young and you've already lived through more than most so you've gotten this idea in your head that you're somehow invincible, but you're not. You Know Who wasn't the only evil in this world. There are nasty people who would kill you to protect their secrets."
"If there's still evil in this world, especially in this Ministry, it's better that it be uncovered. Untended wounds don't always heal on their own. Often they fester and become more deadly."
Realizing he wasn't going to dissuade her from opening up the file on the table, Pius gave up. He reminded her that she couldn't remove a single piece of parchment from the room. If she needed him, he would be outside. His warning hung in the air for a long time after he left her alone. She stared at the file without touching it. Was she making a mistake opening up the past?
Only the reminder of the cartons and cartons of dead werewolves still sitting in the corner of her office gave her the courage to open the folder. It wasn't right that their lives were taken from them when they'd already been forced to endure so much because of their affliction. Even putting her indescribable feelings for Fenrir aside, she felt that she owed it to those men and women who no longer had a voice to find out what they were a part of. She took a deep breath to prepare herself for the onslaught of information she knew she was about to receive.
Rarely in her nearly thirty years of life had she ever been so severely disappointed. Each time she thought she was getting closer, she felt further away. There was hardly anything of any value inside the folder. Just like the cartons, there was only enough information to keep her guessing. She was tempted to throw the damned file across the room.
There was a single piece of parchment inside with only the barest description of what 'Operation Moonlight' was about. Using lots of big words that meant nothing, it only spoke of a program that operated from 1955 through 1966 under the supervision of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The mission statement claimed it was to designed to improve the quality of life for 'those poor souls stricken with lycanthropy', but even that sounded like a load of tosh. Someone worked very hard to cover up the true purpose. If 'Operation Moonlight' was indeed about improving werewolf lives, why were so many dead? She was disgusted.
A list of Ministry officials involved in the project was written at the bottom of the parchment. No more than a dozen, she highly doubted that any of them were still alive. The names didn't sound familiar and she knew just about everyone who worked in that Department thanks to her work with both the house-elves and werewolves. Likely they were long-dead or retired for years. Despite knowing it was likely another dead-end, Hermione scribbled down their names on her own parchment. Pius never said anything about not being able to take notes.
One name at the very bottom of the list did stand out: Lyall Lupin. Remus never spoke about his father when he was alive. Any time the subject of parents was brought up, she got the impression that it was a sore subject for the poor man. She didn't want to push. All she knew for certain was his mother was a Muggle who died before the end of the first wizarding war. When Remus offered her that much information one night over tea at Number Twelve, she didn't ask for details. She could tell just by the sadness in his eyes that it was a pain he would likely never entirely recover from. His father, however, was spoken about even less than his mother. It was likely that he was dead too.
When she read through the file at least a dozen times and was certain there was nothing left to learn from it, Hermione sighed and closed the folder. There was no sense sitting in the cold, unfriendly room if she wasn't going to get any further. A stray thought crossed her mind that maybe Pius wasn't being truthful about an alarm sounding if she touched one of the cabinets, but she decided not to test it. That was hardly an act that would go unnoticed. She didn't want Kingsley to regret giving her the permission she needed to be in the Restricted Section to begin with. Gathering her notes, really just a list of names, she pushed open the door to the main section of the Archives. Just as he promised, the clerk wasn't far.
"Thank you, Pius. That was rather educational."
She didn't stop to share with him what she found. Let him think that she now knew everything there was to know about 'Operation Moonlight'. Giving him no indication at all that she was still as confused as before, Hermione rushed out of the Archives and down the long corridor to her office.
"Well, you seem to be in one piece after your little adventure last night. That's good. Even with me telling Fen last night that I tried to stop you, I didn't feel all that confident he wouldn't end me painfully if something were to happen to you."
"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine."
As Robert spoke, her mind travelled elsewhere. What was her next step? The Ministry Archives had been a disappointing failure. None of the cartons that Edgar parted with were of any help. There had to be somewhere else that she could get more information about the damned operation.
"Did you find anything last night?"
Hermione wasn't sure why she was reluctant to tell Robert what she found. Maybe because she thought he would just tell her that she was wasting her time. The werewolves, except for Fenrir, involved in 'Operation Moonlight' were all dead. Didn't she have enough living werewolves with modern-day problems? He would be right, of course.
"There was a file in the Restricted Section, but Kingsley gave me permission to view it this morning. That's why I was late."
When she didn't immediately offer him any information about what was in the file, Robert knew not to ask. They'd been working with each other long enough to know how to read the other. She hoped that there would come a time when she would have more to share with him, but for the present, she was going to keep it as much to herself as possible. Besides, if it was as dangerous as Pius seemed to believe, she didn't want to drag another innocent person into the crossfire.
It was another long day. When Hermione would try to focus on her actual work, her mind would wander back to 'Operation Moonlight' and what steps she could take next to learn more. She locked the list of Ministry officials involved in the top drawer of her desk. If they were indeed all dead as she suspected, it was useless information anyway. When she bid Robert a good evening that night, she had half-convinced herself to stop searching.
Exhausted at seven, she didn't see any reason to stick around much longer after her assistant left. She waited until he was gone to look through the most current directory of the Ministry of Magic for any of the names on her list. It only took a few minutes to confirm her suspicions that none of them were still employed with the Ministry. Wanting little more than a hot bath and maybe a big glass of wine before an early bed, she slipped the list back into her desk drawer and grabbed her cloak.
She wasn't even one foot out of the office door when she was annoyed to find Iain standing in the doorway. How many times would she have to tell the tenacious man that she wasn't interested? He was one of the most frustrating people she'd ever known in her entire life. Once it was charming. Once a long, long time ago.
"What, Iain? I'm on my way home."
"I just need a second."
It took all of her self-control to not give into the childish urge to roll her eyes and heave a big sigh. Each second that ticked by with her ex-boyfriend hovering nearby only made her even more exhausted. Iain handed her a small rolled parchment.
"What's this?"
"It's the Muggle-repelling ward you asked me about weeks ago. The night we…"
"Oh, yes, I remember. Thank you."
So much had happened since that night they drank too much wine and snogged like teenagers at her front door that she'd almost forgotten she'd asked him about additional wards. He started to turn to leave, but couldn't make it all the way around before he pivoted back. She knew him well enough to know that he was worried just by the expression on his face.
"Are you sure that the Muggle who attacked you just did so randomly?"
"What?"
"You said you were just walking home from the shops and a random Muggle saw an opportunity. Was that true?"
"Iain, I don't understand. Did you think I was lying to you?"
Just as she knew him, he knew her just as well. He could tell she was lying no matter how skilled and deliberate she was in her deception. Part of it was his years of training as an auror. Most of it was the time they spent together deeply in love with the other. The fire between them long ago fizzled out, but they didn't stop knowing each other.
"Yes, Hermione, I know you're lying to me. You claimed he was random, but why would you have asked me for such a specific ward weeks earlier? It wasn't because Margaret was worried about burglars, was it?"
She couldn't deny the truth, not when she was caught in such a blatant lie. Careful with her words, she had to give him some sort of version of the truth that wouldn't reveal it all. No matter what, she had to keep Fenrir protected. It was imperative that no one even suspect he might still be alive. She owed him that much at least.
"I've seen that same Muggle before when I was shopping. He stared at me, followed me around the market one evening. I didn't have a good feeling about him. Since then, I've seen him a few other times watching me. I was scared that he knew where I lived, that he might've followed me home one night when I didn't notice."
"Oh, love, why didn't you tell me that before?"
"Because I didn't want you to worry or to insist that you needed to come over to my house to make sure I was safe."
Iain raised both of his hands, palms out. There was a flash of hurt across his face that he quickly hid behind his usual emotionless auror mask. She wished she'd been more careful with her words. It wasn't her intention to make him feel yet again like he wasn't needed or wanted. Why could she never just have a simple conversation with him without insulting him or making herself feel guilty? He lowered his hands before backing out of the office.
"I was promised that ward would work to block all Muggles except the ones you allow. If it doesn't, talk to Auror Savage. He'll know where it went wrong."
The wizard was halfway down the corridor before Hermione could say a word to stop him. Not that she even knew what was the right thing to say. Lately all she'd done where he was concerned was make a bigger mess of it all. Sighing, she pulled her cloak on and waited another minute to give him the chance to get all the way to the stairs first. Meeting him at the lifts on the above level would be too awkward.
Feeling Fenrir's gaze on her just a short time later helped calm her nerves. She took a deep breath, thankful for the cold wintery air. When they were both inside the warmth of her kitchen, Hermione could almost forget the unpleasant encounter she'd just had. As they ate their dinner, she filled him in on the disappointing truth that she'd found nothing of any value even in the Restricted Section.
"Maybe you should stop looking."
"Not likely. You still don't know me very well, do you?"
It was meant as an innocent tease, but by the heat in his eyes when he spoke next, she knew he didn't take it that way. Mesmerized by his amused gaze, she couldn't look away.
"Not nearly as well as I would like."
Feeling her stomach twist in what could only be described as pleasant anticipation, Hermione forced her eyes down to her empty plate. How was she supposed to respond to that? Could he tell the effect he had on her? She felt like a nervous teenager all over again. Needing something to distract her mind from moving down dark and dangerous paths, she reached for the parchment still in the pocket of her robes. Pushing it across the table, she nearly jumped when the tips of his fingers brushed over hers as he took it. The corner of his mouth curled into a smirk. Evidently he'd noticed.
"It's a Muggle-repelling ward that will allow for certain Muggles to come through. Solves all of our problems. Repels Muggles, but Margaret can still come by."
She knew she was rambling, but she couldn't help it. He made her very nervous in a delightful way it was best not to dwell on for too long. Wanting nothing more than to dunk her flushed head in a sink full of freezing cold water, Hermione banished their dirty dishes to the sink and made her excuses to go to bed earlier than usual.
"Are you sure you don't want to try to add this ward? It's fascinating. I've never seen one quite like this."
It almost seemed as if the fearsome werewolf was trying in his own way to keep her from leaving him without actually asking her to stay. Did she make him nervous too? Surely that wasn't possible. The thought of that sort of power, however, did make her smile and nearly reconsider.
"Thank you, but I really am rather tired. I think I'm going to take a bath and go to bed. Have a good night."
As she all but ran out of the kitchen, she could've sworn she heard him softly mutter a question asking if she needed any help with her hard to reach places. Her cheeks burned even hotter. Did she hear him correctly or was she just hoping that's what he said? She was tempted for half a second to turn back around, draw on her infamous Gryffindor courage, and request that he speak again loud enough for her to understand. The temptation flickered out quickly.
Somehow she was able to finally fall asleep that night, but she wasn't sure how it was possible. All the bath did was remind her of the night she stripped in front of the window while he watched. Knowing he was just across the corridor didn't help matters. She didn't find the bath nearly as relaxing as they usually were. When she was dressed again and under the covers, she tossed and turned for a long time replaying every single word he said over and over again in her mind. It seemed to take forever to turn her mind off long enough to drift off.
A heavy weight across her hips and a choking pain in her throat woke Hermione up out of a deep sleep. Hours after she'd fallen asleep, the house was silent and dark. Not understanding the pain at first and thinking it was just a dream, when she opened her eyes to see the Muggle's face hovering over hers, she was terrified. Never, not even in her worst nightmares, had she been that afraid.
"Not so brave without your big mate keeping watch outside, are you?"
She couldn't scream. Whether it was just from fear or the tight grip on her throat, no sound came out as she tried. His grip only got stronger. He wasn't going to stop until he killed her. The strange, glazed look in his eyes told her that. What was wrong with him? Was he on drugs? She tried to scream again.
Her bedroom door slammed open. The Muggle's hand was ripped off her throat as he was thrown backwards across the bedroom. His head slammed against her bedroom wall. If her bruised throat hadn't been so sore, Hermione might've been able to scream as she watched the bastard's lifeless body slide down the wall, leaving behind a heavy red streak of blood as it fell. He was dead before he hit the carpet.