Disclaimer: Not mine.

The Chasm

Chapter 5

The Journey Begins

June 22, 2008

Hermione opened the door, almost closing it again when Ronald tried to walk in. Pushing her weight against the inside of the door she looked down at his foot, now wedged between the edge of the door and the frame.

"You aren't going to invite me in?"

"No, to do that I would have to open the door. As you can plainly see, that is not happening."

"You cut your hair again," he said inanely, not able to think of anything else.

"Flattery will not get you in."

"I didn't say I liked it," he grumbled.

"I noticed, I was joking," she said flatly.

"I am going home tomorrow."

Hermione's eyes snapped up to his, she swallowed hard and only nodded. "It was good to see you, Ronald. I am glad you came with us, truly."

"Not glad enough to let me in?"

"No, it's not a good time."

"I see," he said coldly, removing his foot and standing up to his full height. "You have company."

"Yes," she said, chewing her lip and looking back over her shoulder.

He reached forward without thinking and wiped sweat off her brow, remembering how she would perspire, beads of sweat on her forehead, the muscles in her neck taunt, her head pushed back on the pillow as he would lower his head and kiss her while his hand….

"Ronald? I asked you if there anything else you wanted?"

"No," he choked. "I will see you in the fall."

"September, the fifteenth."

"Right."

"You can clear your calendar?"

"I said…yes."

"You've said that before. I need to know for sure. I have to plan the supplies."

"I 'll be there," he answered tersely.

She nodded and closed the door, leaning her head against the cool inside surface, still not accustom to seeing him wind burned and darker from his time in the sun and sand of Africa. She took a deep breath, and not for the first time wondered when he had changed, or if it were she.

"We work," Ivan's voice called out to her.

"I know, I'm coming," she whined, every muscle sore, wondering why she had thought this was such a good idea.

"You, concentrate. You too easy distracted."

"It was the door, I had to answer it."

"Next time you not hear. You see only staff. You hear only sound of battle."

"Ready," she sighed, holding the staff in front of her, hands wrapped over the staff, not holding it in her palms as she had before, but in a more prepared stance.

Ivan's staff moved so quickly she barely had time to counter. Releasing her left hand she rotated her right wrist the way he had shown her, at the same time loosening her grip, allowing the staff to swing up and out in a perfect arc as she fell into a squat, the staff finishing the circle above her head. The only problem with her technique was soon apparent when Ivan's staff thudded into her left side, while she had protected her right.

"Fuck," she winced. "I thought you were…"

"You not think. You do."

"Yes, Grasshopper," she muttered, lifting up her tee and seeing a red angry welt forming.

"You not think, you fight. You see but not watch. You…"

"I know," she sighed. "Listen…I …"

"Listen to staff, to sword, listen how it bites air. It tells where it go."

Hermione again took the beginning stance, determined she could do this. They practiced together that day and the next and the next after that, until she could lock her eyes on his and not look at the staff in his hands, or the tilt of his head, anticipating by the way his eyes flickered which direction his blow would take. She learned that she could hear if he slid his foot forward to slash, or if he stepped cleanly to the side planning to knock her own staff out of the way. Discovering she could see the slight flex where the muscle of his neck disappeared under his collar she soon learned which hand would control the blow, and began to counter his every move. By the end of the week, she thought she had accomplished a lot until he tossed her a rod half the size of the one she had been trying to master.

"This better for you. Size for a woman," he smiled widely. "We do again."

"It's heavier at one end," Hermione mused.

"Next we learn blade. This teach," he said solemnly. "You practice night, I teach mornings."

Hermione copied his two handed grip and planted her feet apart, grinning at the thought of being on sabbatical from work while learning how to fight. She didn't smile for long as the short heavy rod cracked into her shoulder then with a crippling force to her back and sent her sprawling.

"You think," Ivan scowled. "Blade only strikes once not like staff."

"Then why did you hit me twice?" She moaned as she used the sofa to pull herself up.

"Husband should teach," he looked at her questioningly.

"Yeah, well…Listen, Ivan," Hermione said, sitting on the sofa and inspecting her side. "I really do appreciate this, and I hate to mislead you, but Ronald and I are divorced...at least it will be final in a couple of months."

"No," he said, frowning at her and shaking his head. "You fight."

Hermione looked up at him, confused if he meant with the rod or in the future for Ronald. Seeing a dark scowl cover his face, she stood and renewed her stance, not wanting to get into a conversation about her domestic life.

.

.

September 15, 2008

It was still dark, when Hermione laid out the supplies on the floor, next to the things Harry had dropped off and then upended Ronald's sack, dumping his plethora of items on the floor. She carefully make rows of personal items, team supplies, and what they each thought they may need although none could hazard a guess on how long the trip would take.

Ronald had taken her shopping, picking out clothing that she found disgusting and full of connotations she didn't like. Dragon-skin pants, with straps and buckles holding down a mired of pocket flaps, a jacket made of the same hide, tight and form fitting with no loose fabric to get caught on protruding rocks or branches.

He had scoffed at her boots, yanking them off her feet and explaining the texture of the sole needed to be deeply grooved and rough.

"You almost landed on you arse once. What if no one is there to catch you next time," he had spat at her protests, his eyes laced with concern.

Now, she looked at the other items he had sent and knew he had chosen them with the eyes of a Curse Breaker, just as Harry had made sure they each had and extra wand, a packet of floo powder, and a port key she knew wouldn't work. She frowned, knowing she could never divide and pack away this amount into the pockets and backpacks of only the three of them.

She started with the personal items, tossing the unnecessary bulk to a pile of discarded luxuries. Ron's shaving gear, Harry's deodorant. Idiots, she thought. She left enough for them to share, thinking she would come back and reconsider even this. Running her hand over her own short-cropped hair, she was glad at the number of things she no longer needed. She threw everything of her own, save a small comb and toothbrush, into the growing pile of unneeded luxuries. Leaning back on her knees she reached out and tossed the shaving gear away as well. It would do no good to be clean and neat if they starved in the process.

She allowed them each a blanket, but no pillow. Hesitating over the waterproof tarps, she flung two aside, along with towels, allowing them each only one flannel. She pushed aside all reading material, smirking to see Quidditch Monthly in the stack, but paused before getting rid of a survival handbook, at the last minute tossing it up on the sofa. Seeing the evidence that she no longer slept in her bed, she levitated the quilt and pillow she had used and hid them between the sofa and the wall, not wanting to give Ron the satisfaction of knowing she still had trouble sleeping even on non-storm ridden nights.

This would not be a camping trip, warding themselves from view, able to make a stealth trip into town for supplies. They had agreed there would be no tent, no staying in one spot, no waiting. This was to be a fact-finding mission, short and simple. Hermione shoved her digital camera and two memory cards in one of her side pockets, uncertain if they would work, before Harry could see what she was taking. Then smirking, she shrunk one solar charger and a walkie-talkie for each of them, knowing that Harry may understand but Ronald would only laugh.

She piled the extra wands, staffs, and a cache of hooks, ropes and clamps, none of which she understood, together in the middle of the room. These would wait until Ron and Harry arrived to sort through. Done, she looked out the window and judged the time by the sun that was just now coming up. It was time.

She dressed with care after a long shower. Hearing Harry in the sitting room, she opened the door a crack and yelled out for him to put on a pot of tea, suddenly unsure if she had packed everything they would need, or if the tin cups were sturdy enough for the constant transfigurations of size they would go through. .

"I thought Ron would be here already," Harry yelled from the kitchen. "I told him six figuring he would be here by seven."

"No, I thought so too," she said walking out, pulling the last strap through its buckle.

"Wow," Harry ginned.

"Not bad yourself," she smiled back, feeling suddenly stupid. "What the fuck are we doing?"

"Are you changing you mind?"

"Not about that you git," she giggled. "Look at me…I let Ronald pick out my clothes. I've never done that before. Not even when we were together."

"You'll be glad you have those if it is anything like the tundra we were on. You fall on that scree and you feel it," Ron said as he walked into the kitchen, setting down a grocery sack and digging out pastries, and sweets. "What? It's the last time we may get to eat this stuff."

"He's right you know," Hermione pushed him aside and peered into the bag. "Umm…so much to eat so little time."

"I don't think you better eat that," Harry laughed, bumping her hip with his, jockeying for position in front of the bag. "One ounce on those hips and your trousers will split."

"No, she's lost weight. Used to be a lot more…" Ronald lowered the pastry and looked at her sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Thanks, so now you think I was fat?"

"Did I say that? Harry, did I say that?"

"If we are going to make it, you guys have to do better." Harry looked from one to the other, signalling Ronald to apologise.

"What?" Ronald said looking at him strangely, seeing him flaying his arms around. "Blimey, you okay?"

"He is telling you, in a not to subtle way, that you just made an arse…."

"Mione! I did not!" Harry stood up and raked his hands through his hair. "Okay, listen. That's it. It's over. Until we get back don't talk to each other, don't look at each other, bloody hell…I sound like my mother in law."

"Nah, Mum doesn't wear Goth," Ronald snorted, "and she would have said dears. Like, okay, listen dears."

Hermione bit her lip and turned away, trying not to laugh.

"Come on you two," Harry said exasperated. "At least try."

"He talks without thinking and it irritates the shite out of me." Hermione admitted.

"Me? You… you don't say a word until you have made one of your famous lists."

"And you just spout off whatever is on the top of your head not caring who you hurt," she shouted back. "You didn't talk to me for over a year now you won't shut up!"

"It wouldn't hurt if it wasn't true," he muttered.

"What? Do you even know how you hurt me?"

"Whatever I said. You know, that you didn't like."

"See, Harry? He doesn't even know."

Harry opened his mouth then closed it, shrugging his shoulders, he looked a Ronald hopelessly. "I… I don't know Ron. I have one at home."

"Don't you start too. If we are doing this we do it now." She picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "There are two more, filled with food by the front door. Harry, did you bring the potions?"

"Yup." He patted his pockets. "All I could fit."

"Ron, did you get everything on your list? The one I made, not that thing you did."

"Water filter, matches, mosquito netting, umm… yeah, raided mums medicine closet for the rest."

"Netting?" Harry ginned as he lifted his own backpack.

"Mr. Wilderness Weasley's idea," Hermione muttered sarcastically.

"We don't know where we're going. If these things are as old as you say, we may wind up in Africa. It has the oldest civilizations in the world." Ronald hoisted up his pack and easily flipped it over his arm. "You got that Harry? I think I can get some more in this one if it's too…"

"No, I'm fine," Harry readjusted the weight, not wanting to admit how heavy it was. "Hermione?"

"We are a sight, aren't we?" she sniggered, eyeing their attire.

"If we make it down to the Ministry like this we are doing good."Ronald grumbled. "I was reading about these terrorists the Muggles are always on the look out for. I think it's our pictures they are using."

"Ummm, yeah," Hermione checked her boots, making sure they were tied correctly. "I'd like to know why I had to dress in this damned outfit and Mr. Know-it-all wears khaki."

Harry muttered giving Hermione a glare. "You didn't tell him?"

"Tell me what?"

"We are going a different way."

Hermione heard footfalls and opened the door as Ivan strode up.

"Hermione," he nodded curtly, then leaned down and kissed her cheek. "You not go alone."

"She's not. What the bloody hell do you think we are doing here?" Ronald spat. "Why is he here?"

"Mr. Potter," Ivan nodded at Harry and jerked his head towards Ronald. "I have port key to chamber."

He handed Harry a metal disk before turning back to Hermione. "I will be sad if you do not return."

"You and me both," she joked. "I'll be fine."

"You will contact upon returning?" He said quietly.

"She will not, she is…"

"Ronald! Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Harry said, clenching his teeth.

"How did that git get hold of a portkey to the Ministry?"

"Your Minister Shacklebolt is most accommodating." Ivan bowed, turned on his heel, and left the three to look after him.

"How'd he do that?" Ron said, still in awe.

"Sex." Hermione slammed the door closed. "Kingsley and ...his sister have an…arrangement they want to keep out of the press. Don't worry about it, and if you want that stuff on the table, you shrink it and carry it."

"Are you shagging him?"

The room suddenly got quiet as Hermione turned slowly to look at him. Harry rolled his eyes and hurried to stand between them, holding his arms out in front of Ronald as I protecting him. "Now, Hermione, he didn't mean it that way."

"Really? What way did he mean it?"

"You know what I mean."

"Harry, you tell him that if he dares, just once, for any reason, to talk to me like that again, I will, by help me Merlin, rip off his…"

"You don't have to act that way," Ronald shoved down Harry's arm and glowered at her. "Let's get out of here. I want to be done with this, and her."

Ronald saw the extra wands, shoved his up his sleeve and tossed the other two to Harry. Picking up the staff, he snorted and set it down.

"I'll take that," Hermione said. "If it gets heavy I can dump it along the way."

"Right," Ronald spat, watching her shrink the staff and put it in her breast pocket, then turned to inspect the rest of gear. "Nothing we can't transfigure I guess. If we need to climb, I am sure brains over there will have a better way."

"Thought so, wouldn't want to leave any food behind," she muttered, stood next to Harry and took hold of the disk. "Ron?"

As Ronald touched the disk, their transportation began. Hermione was surprised at the suddenness and looking at Ronald saw the same expression on his face.

Moments later, they were in the Chamber, walking up the ramp to the giant stone structure that Hermione now saw clearly as a rune. Stepping up to it, she craned her neck to see the top as she ran her hand gently over the rough hewed surface.

"It has to be a rune," she said reverently. "just think of how old…how truly magical this is."

"So, you think he could still be in there?" Ronald said, his voice matching Hermione's, as he gazed at it.

She spun around and shot Ronald a glare before turning on Harry. "Is that how you convinced him to come? Telling him you can ….you can…save Sirius? I don't believe you did that."

"You don't know we can't," Harry spat. "You act like you are the only one that has a reason to be here."

"Umm, guys…we can't stick around here. The wards are already going off."

"He's right." Harry stood at the entrance of the arch, holding his hand out to Hermione. "It's time. We have to hurry."

She took his hand, looking at the shimmering liquidness inside the veil, shutting her eyes as Ronald stood next to her, encouraging Harry to hurry. They stepped forward together, Hermione clutching Harry's hand, feeling a wash of magic sweep over her as a strong wind seemed to lift her up and toss her further into the void.

She fell to her hands and knees, vomiting on the ground. Spitting out the taste of bile, she looked under her arm, hoping to see the others, too weak to move and fighting to fill her lungs.

"Here," Ronald saw her trying to breathe evenly, and helped her sit, squatted down and handed her a bottle of water he had taken from his pack. "Harry is down too."

"What…what…was that?"

"It felt like a curse, some sort of final safe guard. It was weak though, it let us in. It's old magic."

"Weak?" She asked, then tipped up the bottle and spitting out a mouthful of water.

"I've felt worse," he grinned and swivelled to see Harry getting to his feet. "Hey, Potter, over here."

"Feels like the Hogwarts express just ran through me." He smiled weakly and started toward Ron. "Umm, you two should really move."

Ron laughed and pulled his wand, pointing at the ground and muttered a cleaning spell. Pulling his brows together in a frown, he tried again before standing and offering a hand to Hermione. "Magic is off. Happens sometimes until the curse lifts. Come on, Harry's right…it stinks here."

The three moved to a spot, further down the hill, Ronald looking at the sky, while Hermione pulled against his hand, wanting to examine the ground.

"Bloody hell," Harry whispered. "There it is."

Ronald looked with him to the valley floor that lay below them and the circle of oddly shaped monoliths, each jutting out of the ground at a different angle, each a different hue than the one next to it.

"Move," Hermione whispered, holding camera up to capture the sight.

"Bloody hell," Ronald muttered. "You're nutters."

"It may work here. I want to record it."

"Mione," Harry said softy. "It's not working, try looking at the picture."

She clicked on the view button, and then hit the repeat, frustrated she dropped it to the ground in disgust. "I have to take back proof."

"It is huge," Ron said, staring at the circle.

"Stonehenge would fit in the middle," Hermione said smiling widely. "Come on, I want to go down there."

"Hold on," Harry said turning in a circle, looking at the rest of the site. "Something's off."

"It's the sky," Ronald said evenly. "There isn't a sun. We can't be sure what direction we are going in."

"Or the time, did you wear a watch?" Hermione went down on one knee, plucking a piece of grass. "No roots, look at this. It seemed off before…almost like that Astroturf stuff, but softer, more real…but not… not real at all."

"That's impossible," Harry said, keeling down with her. "Blimey…Ron, come here."

"It's like we are under a bowel," Ronald said in awe. "Every where we look is flat, everything the same…expect down there."

Harry sat back on his heels and pushed his glasses up on his nose, grinning. "Something like the room we just left…just a big empty space and … that."

"Only this time we have …sixteen…" Hermione bit her lip, and scowled. "Why not twelve? Like a clock…or a calendar. Sixteen is…odd."

"I thought there were forty-eight, with the new ones I mean."

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and let him pull her up again. "I hoped to find all of them, you know, the number of runes we know about now. But this…this doesn't seem right…some we know…but they are mixed with the new ones."

"Well, we know two of these." Ron nodded to the circle. "So at least we can get out of here."

"There are three between them," Hermione chewed her lip, and squatted down, drew a circle in the ground, marked off sixteen intervals, like the face of a clock, and frowned.

"So, two down. I sure as bloody hell don't want to go to Durmstrang, and the Ministry will be crawling with Aurors right now…that leaves…"

Hermione looked up at him and grinned. "Go on, that leaves what? There is no way to know which one we want from here and remember what I saw on the tapestry…three of them may not even work."

"That would leave the question…as I was saying…only no one was listening at the time…as to why would Shacklebolt give anyone a portkey to see the veil?"

"What? Ronald you are wandering."

"No, he has a point." Harry turned back to them. "I don't care how hot she is, why would he?"

"Right, it's not like he is trying to get in her knickers, you said yourself. He's already done that. The hunt is over. And the story about the press doesn't cut it, unless she has a record, and I don't think she does, Kingsley wouldn't care who knows," Ron agreed.

"Good." Hermione dusted her hands off. "He does us a favour and you question it?"

"Damned right," Harry shot back at her.

"He has never done anything that we should question," she said, clenching her teeth together. "You should not even ask…"

"I don't believe Hermione Granger thinks we shouldn't question someone," Ronald guffawed.

"He's right, Hermione…think about it."

"Fine…it's not his sister."

"Who isn't?"

"Who do you think, idiot," she muttered, looking every place but at them.

"Kingsley and …and Ivan?" Harry breathed incredulously.

"Yes," she spat.

"Oh," Harry grinned and started to laugh before seeing the look on Hermione's face. "I'm sorry, Mione, I know you thought he was in London for you."

Ronald chuckled, ducking his chin and looking up at Hermione from under his brows. "I love saying this. You've been had."

"I have not. He is a good man, Ronald. He can't help it if Durmstrang is so fucking prejudiced he could lose his position. Kingsley asked me to invite him when he heard we would be there so I made a deal. So shut up about it, Ronald, I don't want to listen to your bull shite." She pressed her lips together and hoisted her backpack higher on her back. "Harry, you identify the monoliths on the print outs. I put them in the outside left side pocket of your backpack. Ron, you try to stay out of the way."

"You blackmailed him?" Harry said incredulously.

"I did not! I…he said if he could ever do something for me all I had to do was ask."

"What are you going to do? Find more ways to irritate the bloody hell out of me?" Ronald said flatly, ignoring Harry's groan. "I don't care if he's gay or not. I would even believe it was you that put him off women, but blackmail?"

"No, Ronald," Hermione said sweetly as she strode down the slope, "I have a long list of things I can do to you I haven't even started on yet, and it is you that should give up women. You are not very good in the sack anyway."

Ronald stopped walking watching her back as she kept going, opening his mouth only to close it again. Harry walked up behind him and slapped him on the back, ginning widely. "It's good to be out again, just the three of us. Like old times. Right?"