Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or ideas which you recognise as being from JK Rowling's Harry Potter series or any other trademarked or copyrighted work. The plot of this story is my own, but I have no intention of making any money from it.
Chapter 19
On this particular Wednesday night, the Order of the Phoenix, plus Draco and Severus, was meeting at an obscure little club in Kensington, the sort of place where hiring a private room for eleven was not something to be remarked upon, particularly when the known football multi-millionaires Sam White and his best friend Jimmy Blunt were paying.
Of course, the problem with this was that they had to be photographed entering the place with their respective other halves, which meant that Hermione's favourite, the darling Clarisse, was once again on the guest list. The rest of the order had entered by various back doors and were waiting in the private room when the two couples, Harry and Draco and Ron and Clarisse, made their triumphal entrance.
Clarisse was a creature in a class of her own. A beehive of badly died blonde hair, at least a foot high, sat precariously atop her permanently oompa-loompa tanned face. She was a true WAG (in the worst sense of the phrase) in every way, from the ostentatiously thick fake eyelashes which were the crowning glory on a face which always seemed to have been made up with a trowel, to the half-inch long fake nails, painted a disgustingly lurid pink.
Clarisse was not the brightest button. On the rare occasions that they used this club for meetings, and she was a necessary accoutrement, she could never quite recall what had gone on, so presumed she had had a little too much to drink. The fact that Clarisse considered this nothing more than the sign of a good night out said, in Hermione's opinion, all that was necessary about her character. Hermione herself could not understand Clarisse's lack of compunction in losing control in such an obvious manner.
She flitted into the room in front of her boyfriend with an over-powerful waft of expensive yet still tasteless perfume.
"Daahling," said Clarisse to Hermione, who had risen to greet them, kissing her on both cheeks with clearly no idea who the other woman was. This was not a problem for Hermione – in fact, she preferred it that way.
"Clarisse, how lovely to see you again," said Hermione with a simpering smile, which made Severus, seated with her, snigger somewhat impolitely. She mock glared. "Behave. Sam, Jimmy, Clarisse, we were just having some drinks. What can I get you?"
Without waiting for a reply, Hermione picked up the brandy, firewhiskey and lurid pink cocktail which sat on the table in beside her in preparation for their arrival, and handed them out.
Clarisse took her glass but did not drink, instead fixating on Severus. "Who are you?"
Hermione intervened. "This is my partner, Severus Snape. He's Draco's uncle."
To Clarisse, Draco meant Malfoy which meant rich. She batted her eyelids a little on principle. "Hi!"
Hurriedly, Ron draped an arm around his girlfriend. "What shall we drink to?" he asked.
"To not needing an excuse!" said Clarisse with a giggle, downing her drink in one. The others went for more demure sips.
Within seconds, Clarisse's eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed into Ron's waiting arms. Giving his drink to Harry, he laid her out carefully across the chair. Severus nearly tripped over the rug in his haste to move out of the way of the perilously quivering beehive.
"Do you think," asked Ron, in one of his rare philosophical moments, as he looked down at her, prostrate on the green baize, "that I should feel more guilty that about three times a year, my friends and I drug my girlfriend with a Memory Draught and Sleeping Solution, so that she won't disturb our plans for an armed revolution against a mad dictator?"
Harry slapped him on the back. "Really mate, it's probably best not to ask that kind of question."
They were just sitting down to the meeting, when two red heads peeked around the door.
"Miss us?" said one.
"You know you have," said the other.
"Not to worry," said Fred.
"The Weasley Twins are back!" announced George.
And with much aplomb they were welcomed back into the fold. It transpired that before the battle, Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes had been set to open its first American branch, so after the Battle of Hogwarts, they had simply moved the owners out there with it. Hermione had not been privy to this part of Harry's plan – it turned out that they had been emailing him regularly with ideas for weapons to use against Voldemort, as well as news and views.
They had heard about Bill. They shared a look with Ron, who, when Seamus shared the news had gone suddenly pale. He'd lost one brother and a sister to this war already – Percy had died at Hogwarts, mere hours after finally reuniting with his family – and three siblings was a step too far. His expression hardened. "Two weeks til we can get the bastards for good."
"We'll get them," said Fred and George in unison. The room was filled with nods, and Severus clutched Hermione's hand tight, even as Harry held Draco's.
When all this had come out, the twins looked at one another as though suddenly remembering something. "Hermione," they said in unison.
"Not to worry about contacting the rest of the Order."
"Mum and Dad have been running their place in Italy as a sort of safehouse for all order members – it's gotten quite famous outside the UK, I think we've all dropped by at some point or another, and you know what Mum's like, insists on keeping in touch. Anyway, Lupin called them as soon as Seamus here had left."
"They said to tell you to forget whatever your France plan was, and that all the Order will be gathered at the safehouse on Election Night, ready to Portkey in as necessary. See, they know who's reliable and not, so best leave it up to them. Mum's already flooed McGonagall in Oz to let them know."
"We know that it messes with your plans."
"But you know what Mum's like. Best not to argue."
Hermione thought about this. She would have liked to be able to vet the returning Order members herself, but supposed that this was a more practicable solution, rather than having to hire and and ward an entire French hotel, as she'd been planning. And the twins had a point. Probably best not to cross Mrs. Weasley unless entirely necessary.
She shrugged expansively. "I leave it in her capable hands. Tell her that one of us will be there at five to midnight on the 6th of June, so be ready to go straight in then."
"Will do," said George.
"We have ways of communicating," said Fred.
"But that's not why we're here," said George.
"The major problem with your Election Night plan,-"
"-is that once you get all the Ice-cream Eaters together in one place, you really don't want them to be able to get out again."
"But simple apparition wards won't do, because we need the order to be able to get in."
"So we present to you, the Candyfloss Net! Ideal for catching anyone who enjoys Ice-cream." This last was said with a bitter twist of the lips.
Out of his pocket, Fred pulled an improbably large number of stones. They were white, and perfectly smooth and round. Carefully, he laid them in a circle on the floor.
"From the preliminary tests which we did with Draco at Harry's house, earlier this afternoon, we think that once an Eater is inside the circle, if the password is spoken, they will not be able to get out until the counterspell is released."
"Any person not carrying the Mark is not affected, and can walk out freely. But anyone with it cannot walk, run, apparate or portkey out."
Severus looked interested. "How?"
"The precise vibrational modes of the lodestones are attuned to the magic of the mark. Like calls to like, and therefore, the Ice-cream Eater in question is literally pulled by their mark back into the circle, so instantly that they can't actually leave."
"May we test it?"
"Of course. Hermione, Professor, Hannah, would you like to step inside?"
The three did so without hesitation, curious to see the circle's effects.
"In this case," pronounced George, "the password is 'fresh-picked toad.' "
As he spoke, a gleaming golden dome rose up, connecting the lodestones and almost obscuring those in the circle from view.
"It's beautiful," breathed Neville.
"Hannah, if you'd like to come out please," called Harry.
Hannah stepped through the golden haze with no difficulty. "Wow," she said, looking at the dome from which she had just escaped. "From the inside, it just looks like the world's gone really blurry beyond a certain point."
"Hermione, Severus, can you come out please?"
There was no response but silence. "As you can see," said Fred, "anyone with a Mark is prohibited from communicating in any way with the outside. Even if they had owls in there, any owl most recently touched by someone with the Mark is tainted and would just rebound on the inside of the dome. They can hear us, though."
"Ooh," said Fred, as though suddenly making a new discovery, though of course it was just for show, since they had clearly been planning the demonstration for a while. "And you can't get back in once you're out. See?" He raised a hand to the golden barrier, but it merely shimmered, and his hand remained on the surface. "That applies to everyone, so you won't have any Muggles wandering into the battlefield."
"And to take it down?" asked Ernie. "I mean, you can take it down, right?"
"Of course." George looked slightly affronted at the idea that they would have created something that they could not undo. "Simply speak the unlocking spell, either from inside the dome or out. Anyone can do that, which is why it's important that the word be kept secret. In this case, it's 'Weasley.' "
The dome collapsed, and Hermione and Severus stepped out, both looking slightly winded.
"Amazing," said Hermione. "We tried apparating, making a portkey, stepping out, then we just went for the option of blasting the thing. None of it worked."
"Even my Dark Curses couldn't get us out," said Severus. "Impressive."
Fred and George exchanged delighted looks. They'd never had quite that much praise from Snape in their lives!
"How long will the shield last if no-one unlocks it?" asked Seamus practically. "I mean, there must be a point when the batteries die out, right?"
Fred and George looked rather confused. "Batteries? Oh, the Muggle things. Yes. It takes around 48 hours for the magic stored in the lodestones to run its course. More than long enough for your battle."
And so, the final workings of the plan began to take shape.
X
As they ended that evening, Seamus, who had not been able to get to any of the recent meetings, stopped Hermione as she was leaving with a touch on her arm.
"Hermione, I just wondered... what was that letter that McGonagall gave me for you when I was in Australia? I know it's none of my business really, being personal and all, but she just seemed so worried over it. Is everything OK?"
Hermione laughed aloud. "Do you know, I'd quite forgotten about it? You'd just given it to me when I got called to the Dark Lord, and I never remembered it until now. I'll have a look tonight, but I'm sure it's nothing serious, or she would have told you."
In truth, Hermione was rather more worried about her oversight than she let on. She'd been forgetting things a lot lately, and it was very unlike her.