AN: Sorry for the massive delay. Been working hard to stay in the Go Global Exchange Program my university has so I can go to England in January.
Anywho, this takes place about two weeks after "Family." Enjoy!
Bill Weasley was simply not in the mood for this.
It had been a pleasant day, altogether, until his youngest brother had shown up at his and the Roberts' lab, undoubtedly trying to weasel him back to Dumbledore's side, not that Bill was interested; hell, the work he did on an hourly basis was more rewarding than playing vigilante.
Looking over at his rambling brother, as well as at the brunette genius that had accompanied him, Bill revised his judgment. While his brother was grating his nerves, Hermione seemed like a child in a candy shop. Everywhere around her, gadgets and machines seem to be having a life of their own as they performed complex operations that, without the magical power that Bill and the Roberts' had instilled in them, would be impossible. They had simply done this, in lieu of getting more personnel, simply because it cut down on costs and time.
Finally, however, Bill had enough of his brother's ramblings. Lifting his hand in a halting motion, Bill cut right into his brother's latest tirade—for once glad that his superiors weren't in the lab, since this whole event was rather embarrassing to Bill on a personal level.
"Look, Ron," he started, annoyed. "How many times do I need to tell you people? I don't care," he enunciated each word slowly and carefully, so as to make sure his audience fully comprehended the meaning in his words—that he really didn't care.
"Oh, come on, Bill—" Ron started to protest, but Bill quickly cut through his incoming tirade.
"No, Ron. I don't want to hear it," he stated sternly. "I want no part in Dumbledore's little clique. It's boring and misguided, and frankly, obsolete. The work I do here is far more rewarding than working for Dumbledore would ever be."
"Since when have you cared about money so much? What are they paying you?" demanded Ron, obviously misinterpreting Bill's words, although Bill guessed it wasn't on purpose—his brother was just that dense.
Bill sighed. "It's not the money, Ron," he told his hot-headed younger brother as he scratched some observations on the pad he'd been carrying around. The project before him was a potentially new energy source—a more efficient version of the Magical Energy Generator technology. Unfortunately, it was months—perhaps even years away from viable usage outside the laboratory.
The next project in his rounds was not as far-fetched. With a flick of his wand, ignoring his brother's every word as he moved around the lab, he had the prototype new rifle for the Army lift from it's place and aim at a designated target. With another flick, it fired, loudly, giving Bill a brief recess from hearing his brother rant about the evils of the Empire. Instead, Bill scratched down some notes regarding the apparent lack of real power in the prototype shells. A pity, he realized, since the Armed Forces were really hoping to have the Hybrid version of a shotgun ready for deployment in the next offensive. Bill sighed—he was certain Maximilian would get reproached for the delay, but there was little they could do—with so many projects already under way, and very little people understanding the physics and magical theory behind Hybrid technology, there was very little room for acceleration of project development.
Eyeing Hermione from the corner of his eye—the girl seemed completely absorbed by the sheer wealth of knowledge around her—Bill wished that she hadn't been so deeply rooted into Dumbledore's camp; they could use her brilliant mind in the lab.
The project after the failed prototype shotgun, however, silenced Ron as they advanced towards it. It was Bill's own personal pet project—a suit. Namely, a battle suit. Decades from actual usage, some of the parts had already actually been built already, but none functioned the way he had designed them to. The next generation in warfare, he was nonetheless incapable of getting the hybrid technology to adapt to the circumstances he demanded of it. He hadn't lost hope, however, and so now prepared to try one of the most recent parts he'd ordered made—the hand-imbedded, Reductor-spell-shooting firing mechanism. He just hoped that it worked. A catastrophic failure could very well mean levelling his corner of the lab.
"You might want to step away for a second," he warned Ron and Hermione as he put down his notepad and donned the skeletal-looking piece of armour.
For the first time in what was maybe an hour, Hermione snapped out of her ecstasy-induced absentmindedness and looked at Bill concernedly. "Why?" she asked. "That device does work, right?"
"Oh, sure, it works," assured Bill. "…most of the time."
"Most of the time?" asked Ron in a high-pitched voice.
"Well, it worked last time and took out the assigned target," he told them impatiently. He then paused for a moment and hurriedly whispered, "…andthewholeeastwall."
Both Ron and Hermione quickly retreated behind something solid-looking, leaving Bill alone with his highly-dangerous and fallible weapon strapped to his arm.
Shrugging—and slightly congratulating himself for getting Ron to shut up—Bill slowly raised his arm, now weighed down by the exoskeleton firing device, and aimed it at the assigned target. It wasn't far—he hadn't designed this test for range capability, but for actual viability—and when he was certain he had the target in his sights, Bill brought out a handheld recording device and turned it on.
"Sunday, September seventh, Two-thousand-seven; Bill Weasley recording test findings for the X-Three-oh-Three project's firing mechanism. Target is in sight, and power output has been reduced to one percent, in light of previous attempt's destruction of the east wall at ten percent."
Bill was sweating now—half due to the weight of the actual device, half due to his nervousness. Nonetheless, he continued with his vocal report. "Pre-test calibrations were within range, and none of the last attempt's fallacies could be detected. Firing begins in ten seconds."
Leaving the recorder on, he put it down on the desk as he used his now-free arm to support the heavier one. Counting down slowly, aware that Hermione and Ron were peeking from their hiding place, Bill closed his eyes and looked away as he reached the end of his countdown, just as the firing device began to audibly power up.
"Here goes nothing," he mumbled as he heard the device audibly reach its peak. "Firing the device!"
With a loud bang that also jerked his arm almost out of its socket as it rocketed back from the recoil, the device launched a massive Reductor energy bolt at the target, literally decimating it, until nothing—not even visible dust—remained of it. To Bill's relief, the wall behind the target was intact, but the recoil of the device worried him—so much so that he failed to notice that the massive blast had covered his front in soot and put his hair on end. Still, as far as tests went with any part of his armoured suit, this was a huge success—if only by virtue of not ending in catastrophic failure.
Coughing slightly as the stench of the soot finally registered in his mind, Bill updated the situation verbally on his recorder. "Test…cough…a success," he coughed again. "Recoil needs—cough—more revision, and power output still too high—target has been completely decimated."
The latter was the biggest problem in his mind, since it meant that the power source they were using was simply overkill in the suit. Then again, they should have seen it coming, considering that they were using one of the MEG's power crystals, which was about as full of fission-induced energy as it was full of raw magical power.
Coughing a bit more as he took off the device, he barely registered Ron and Hermione marching down on him, both seemingly shaken with the devastating demonstration of power he'd just performed—all of which was completely lost on the eldest Weasley brother, since he was used to exploding things by now.
"What was that?" demanded Ron, just as Hermione shrieked out, "Are you insane?"
Bill grinned. "That, little brother, was the X-Three-oh-Three's firing mechanism," he told him proudly, before absently responding to Hermione. "And no, I'm not insane."
Hermione raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Are you sure? Do you have any idea what you've just done?" she asked impatiently.
Bill nodded absently as he checked off the test on his notepad. "I've just successfully tested a weapon that could revolutionize the way we compartmentalize magical and normal energy," he stated matter-of-factly. "Why? What do you think I've done?"
Hermione's eyes widened with indignant fury as she misinterpreted Bill's lack of reaction for condescension. "Beyond breaking a few of the rules of physics, you've created a monstrosity of death!" she shrieked.
Bill looked at Hermione worryingly for a moment. He was slightly revisiting his opinion of the intelligent brunette, as she seemed to be rashly interpreting the experiment. "First of all, I did not break, as you say, the laws of physics," he told her calmly. "The target hasn't been erased from existence…it's just…in very small pieces." Here, Bill coughed in embarrassment as he admitted that the power output might have been still too high. "Besides, this is why I was hired."
"To create weapons of mass destruction?!" shrieked Hermione.
"To push the borders of the human understanding of the world around us," calmly corrected Bill. "What that suit single-handedly tells us is the power of a fraction of a milligram of a plutonium shell within which is a concentrated Reductor spell."
Hermione's eyes bulged. "That's what's powering that machine of death?!"
Bill shrugged. "Any bigger and the island wouldn't exist."
Ron seemed about ready to faint away, realizing the meaning of his brother's words. Bill, however, paid no attention and with a flick of his wand had all the soot vanished. Checking his itinerary, he rose a surprised eyebrow at the next item on the list.
"Sorry, guys, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave now," he told them formally. Sure, he was glad to see them go, but he had been willing to tolerate their presence for a while longer. Work, however, called.
"Why's that, Bill?" asked Ron, suspicious.
Bill rolled his eyes and looked at the duo impatiently. "Look, I've been nice until now. I've let you see things other people would probably kill to see. Now, however, I've got something important to do. So, please leave."
Ron seemed about to protest, but something in Bill's tone made Hermione realize how serious Bill felt about this next assignment, and so she stopped her significant other from opening his mouth with a light touch to the arm. "Ron, come on. Dumbledore's waiting for us," she told him softly, but with a tone of finality.
Ron still seemed reluctant to obey, but gave in eventually, leading the way out. Just as Hermione was about to follow him out, however, she turned to look Bill straight in the eye. "I hope you don't regret what you've chosen to do, Bill," she told him seriously, before leaving and closing the door.
Bill sighed in relief as the duo left. He chuckled as he made his way to a door on the far end of the lab. "Regret it?" he mused as he opened the door and went down the stairs to the heavily guarded lab underground. "Why should I regret it?"
After showing his ID to the heavily armed guards at the bottom of the stairs, he entered the underground lab and smiled at the experiment going underway. Three large, liquid-filled, cylindrical containers took up the middle of the room, and people in front of computers surrounded the three containers. Inside the containers, shadowy figures could be seen.
"Sir, Project Valkyrie is performing beyond expectations," reported one of the scientists. Bill smiled.
"Don't you worry, Hermione," he spoke to himself softly as he lay a hand on the central tube. "I don't regret it at all."
Bill looked up at the figure within the tube and smiled. Flowing, red hair floated within the clear liquid, attached to the naked body of a woman.
"This is all for his vision," he spoke softly. "There is nothing to regret at all."