Thank you to everyone that is still with this story. Things are starting to move forward now - the body count will start to rise from here...
Apologies for just posting the last two chapters on Monday without an author's note - I like to put something, but work has been an absolute mare this week and I was a bit bogged down. Why do people go on about August being a quiet month? My boss doesn't seem to have got the memo... but she's on holiday next week, so maybe I'll get a bit of peace.
Thank you very much for reading. Please drop me a line and let me know what you think.
Merrick x
Hermione stood in the Great Hall of Asgard. Around her was only ruin and destruction. Decorated gold pillars lay in heaps of rubble. Bodies lay tangled on the ornate floor. Odin was there talking urgently to Thor, huddled in a corner. Sif and the Warriors Three were helping with the clear up. There was no sign of Loki, of Jane or Frigga. She passed faces she knew well, but their eyes slid past her, oblivious to her presence.
Following her instinct Hermione followed a small set of steep stairs out of the Hall, finding herself in a long room with cells on either side. The dungeons. Only one cell was lit. She approached cautiously. The cell had obviously been furnished for the occupant's comfort, but the contents were now destroyed, furniture, glass and books broken and scattered across the floor. There was a figure huddled in the corner, bare feet bleeding from the glass, long matted black hair tangled around his face.
Hermione's stomach knotted in horror. This couldn't be. How could Loki be here, and in this state? The utter grief and abandonment in his eyes broke her heart – a hundred times worse than the picture from New York. He crouched in the corner of his cell, the picture of misery, arms wrapped around his knees.
No matter how much she tried, Hermione couldn't get through the shield that contained him, couldn't make him hear her. She screamed his name, burning her hands on the shield, but he remained inside, isolated, alone, locked in his misery.
Someone was calling her name, and Loki was receding. She tried to cling to the vision, wanted to stay with him, not leave him in that dreadful place alone, but the voice was becoming more insistent.
"Hermione!"
"Harry?" For a hideous, disorientated few seconds, Hermione couldn't remember where she was. Why was Harry here? Was she back at Hogwarts? Had Loki, Asgard, all been a dream?
"Loki!" It all came back to her in a rush. The wreckage, the prison, the blood and grief...
It all came out, in a flood of tears all over Harry's shoulder. It wasn't the first time she had sobbed her griefs out in his arms, but it had been a while... She desperately tried to get herself together. "I'm sorry Harry."
That familiar lopsided grin. "Don't worry about it." Moments later, a concerned frown appeared between his brows. "Do you have these nightmares often?"
She shook her head. "Hardly ever. But I rarely sleep alone these days. I think that makes a difference. What time is it?"
"7.30 – actually nearer 8 now. We've had a message from Kingsley. He needs to see us as early as possible. Apparently there have been "developments". Tom's getting breakfast for us. I knocked on your door but you didn't answer, and I could hear you calling out. In the end I used alohomora. I'm sorry, I didn't want to intrude."
She smiled, still a little wanly. "No, I'm grateful. It was horrible" she drew in a shaky breath. "I wish Loki were here. I don't think I'll really relax now until he's back... I'm sorry. That sounded really pathetic and needy didn't it. I just can't get the dream out of my head."
Harry kissed her on the top of the head as he got up. "I'll leave you to dress and come downstairs. And don't worry. That handsome husband of yours is probably still snoring in your bed back home if I know him..."
ooo0ooo
Half an hour later Hermione joined Harry for breakfast. He noted with concern that she was still pale, the signs of her disturbed night clear on her face. They consumed their toast and coffee quickly, before flooing directly to the Ministry. An aide was waiting in the lobby to take them straight up to Kingsley's office.
Kingsley Shacklebolt had his nose in a huge sheaf of parchment when they arrived. Seeing them he rose quickly to greet them. "Hello Hermione – Harry, it's great to see you. It's been how many years?"
Harry chuckled. "Too long Kingsley, too long. How are you my friend?"
Kingsley rolled his eyes. "Getting older and greyer by the minute. You're looking good Harry. No glasses I notice. Can I offer you some tea, coffee, pumpkin juice?"
After he had arranged coffee for them, Kingsley returned with a small stocky sandy haired man. "Can I introduce Mr Atticus Jones, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Atticus, can I introduce Mr Harry Potter, and the lady formerly known as Hermione Granger, now Princess Hermione of Asgard".
Jones' eyebrows shot up at Hermione's title. "Hermione will be fine" she smiled, shaking his hand. "My husband, will be joining us later today, he is occupied with a matter of state business for his brother the King, at home today."
Harry smiled to himself. Listening to Hermione, Jones would undoubtedly expect Loki to turn up in state robes, or at the very least a Savile Row suit. It would probably be a real disappointment when he turned up in jeans tomorrow.
Hermione briefed Kingsley and Jones quickly on what they had discovered so far. When they started talking about nine realms, convergences and dark matter she could see Jones eyes start to glaze over. Quickly changing tack she focused instead on what they needed from MLE.
"We are fairly confident that Malekith himself didn't carry out the break into the vault. If he had, he would have the Aether and all hell would be breaking loose. It is likely that one of his agents has coerced someone to carry it out on his behalf. They will almost certainly have no idea what they have got, or the appalling danger they are in." She stopped, seeing the expression on Jones' face. "What?"
Jones, Harry noticed - was as white as a sheet. "There has been - a development." said Jones. "Well to be precise – there has been a murder."
"The Aurors get murders quite regularly. Not as often as the muggle police, but they're not uncommon. Why is this one different?". Harry was starting to think like an Auror again.
Jones looked grim. "Follow me"
Harry, and Hermione followed Jones through Kingsley's floo to a grim little street not far from Knockturn Alley. They were led up three narrow flights of stairs to a dark little attic room. If whoever lived here had carried out the Gringotts break in, they had clearly not profited financially from the transaction.
The stench as they entered the room was overpowering. Clearly there had been a struggle, the room was destroyed, and there was blood everywhere. Hermione's eyes were wide, and Harry got the distinct impression that she was fighting the urge to be violently sick. "Hermione are you alright. Look, I'm used to this – although I don't think you ever get used to the smell. Do you want to wait outside?"
"No." She snapped. "I'm fine. Let's get on shall we."
Looking at the crime scene, it was obvious why they had been brought here. Generally, wizarding murders ranged from the clean – avada kedavra , to the downright gruesome - sadly sectumsempra had become all too common after the war, to the utterly bizarre – hexes and jinxes gone very wrong. You got the odd poisoning of course, but this was – well – visceral in a way that was rarely seen in the wizarding world.
"Do we have a murder weapon?" One of the Aurors on duty, a man that Harry vaguely remembered from his time with the force, beckoned them over.
"Never seen anything like this sir. Don't really know what to make of it. The knife is strange. More ceremonial than practical."
The body, which lay in a crumpled heap in a pool of blood, was a scruffy looking male, probably in his late forties - maybe a little older. The knife, which lay beside him, its blade in two pieces, had been used to slit his throat so deeply that it had nearly decapitated him. The expression of horror on the victim's face was something that Harry suspected neither he nor Hermione would forget in a hurry.
Looking up, Harry realised that Jones had disappeared from the scene. He turned to the Aurors that were still examining the room. "Do we know who he is?"
The older Auror nodded. "Landlady found the body – poor old dear, the healers are with her now. Unsurprisingly, she isn't in very good shape at the moment. Identified him as one Straxius Smith, he's been known to us for years, done a few years in Azkaban, but just for petty theft and stuff. Do you really think he broke into Gringotts? He doesn't seem the type. His kind are mostly into minor stuff."
Hermione was examining the knife carefully. "Harry, this knife – it isn't metal. I'm not 100% sure, but I think it's obsidian. Volcanic glass. Mind your fingers, it's wickedly sharp. The Mayan's used to use them for human sacrifices thousands of years ago."
Harry picked the knife up gingerly. It was like nothing he had ever seen before either. "Hermione, there's no iron in this blade – glass blade, horn handle, leather binding to keep it all together..."
Hermione looked very serious. "From what Loki's told me, and what I've read, Svartalfheim is a lot like bits of the most northerly parts of Europe. Dry, cold, inhospitable - and volcanic. And you need volcanic activity to make obsidian. And Svartalfheim is the ancestral home of the..."
"Dark elves" finished Harry. "Who incidentally, along with most of their kind, have a profound aversion to all things iron."
The two friends looked at one another in concern. "We're on the right track."
"The question is.." said Harry, "..has the casket ever been here?" He looked to the Jones and the Aurors. "Gentlemen, would you mind giving us the room? We need to scan for magical signatures, and there are far too many wandering around at this point. Could you please canvas the area, to see whether anyone saw or heard anything."
Once the room was quiet and empty, he turned back to Hermione. "You've felt this thing before – any sign?"
Hermione closed her eyes and tried to focus, remembering the sensation she had picked up near Bor's vault, but there was nothing. She sighed. "I'm sorry Harry, but there's nothing. Loki might be able to pick something up when he gets here – he's more tuned in than I am. You have to bear in mind though, the Aether had been in Bor's vault for five thousand years. That's long enough to leave a serious imprint. Even at best, it couldn't have been here for more than a few days."
They spent some considerable time, carefully going over the room in detail, but despite their best efforts, they had been unable to pick up anything further of use. Hermione was beginning to feel distinctly queasy again, it must be the smell, which was really beginning to get to her.
Harry was busy examining the confusing melee of footprints around the body. "There were at least two of them, possibly three from what I can see, but it's all very mixed up. The poor devil never stood a chance." He broke off, reaching for his wand as footsteps came charging up the stairs, relaxing as the younger Auror came crashing through the door...
"Mr Potter sir... you need to come, we've just had a message. They've found another one..."
ooo0ooo
In a laboratory on the 52nd floor of Stark Tower, Jane and Eric were briefing the others. On one of Stark Enterprises virtual screens, Eric was busy drawing diagrams. Out of respect for his hosts, and the fact that Jane was a Queen these days, he had agreed to at least put a pair of shorts on - after all, he thought, he couldn't reasonably be expected to work in long pants...
"So I think that Malekith is going to fire the Aether into the space where the Nine Reams are connected."
Stark peered at the sketches over Selvig's shoulder. "Would that work?"
"Oh yes. The alignment will only serve to amplify the effects of the Aether. For each world that it passes through the effect would increase exponentially, ultimately, the effects would be universal."
Jane spoke up. "But the effects of the Convergence are only temporary – he would need to be in exactly the right place at the right time. We need to find out where."
Bruce put his tea down, joining the conversation for the first time, his face intent. "Eric and I are already studying the gravitational effects of what we now know to be the Convergence. We should be able to use the data to plot the focal point. Plus we can't forget that this has happened before. There may be historical signs we need to look for."
Jane's face was serious. "Remember. If we can't control this the effects could be catastrophic. The walls between worlds will be almost nonexistent, Physics is going to go ballistic, increases and decreases in gravity, spatial extrusions. The very fabric of reality could be torn apart.
Eric looked smug. "Ah. Now I may have the answer to THAT particular problem..."
ooo0ooo
The second body was found in a side street, about a mile from the first. The wound was very similar, but this time there was no sign of a murder weapon. The shop keeper that found the body was very shocked, but able to give a statement to the Aurors. He had occasionally seen the victim in the area, but had no idea who he was or where he came from...
Harry however, took one look at the blood soaked body and turned away.
"I know this man. I brought him in at least half a dozen times. He was originally from North Wales I think, name of Gryflyn Llewellyn. Like Smith he was a petty thief..."
Hermione was startled by the look on his face... "What is it Harry?"
"He didn't work alone. He had an accomplice that he often operated with... Mundungus Fletcher..."
Hermione sat heavily down on a wooden crate as her knees gave beneath her. The Norns knew she had no great fondness for the slippery little criminal, but Dung had been on the edges of the fight against Voldemort from the very start, and had been one of the first that Dumbledore had named when the Order had re-formed following Voldemort's return. "How on earth are we going to find him? He could be anywhere by now."
Harry shook his head. "Dung was well known to the Aurors, we must have a list of his known hideouts back at base. Jones. Would you be able to get a couple of Aurors out to each address? But be careful. You're not only looking for Dark Elves. If by any chance the greasy little git has opened the box he may have absorbed the Aether. We have no idea what he's capable of in that case."
Jones nodded in agreement, taking two of the Aurors to one side, to give them their instructions.
Hermione looked anxiously at her watch. She rubbed her eyes wearily. It was later than she expected, and despite the fresh air, she was still feeling tired and off colour. "Harry, I need to head back to the Cauldron to meet up with Loki. Are you going to stay here, or will you come back?"
Harry looked around the crime scene. "If you don't mind Hermione, I'll stay here for a while. Knowing you two you'll want a few minutes together anyway. Much as I love you both, the urge to vomit when you two have one of your touching reunions is overwhelming."
Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "We'll see you back at the Cauldron then. If anything comes up, send us a patronus if you can." She turned on the spot and disappeared.
Jones was behind his left shoulder. "Is everything alright – she seems in a hurry."
Harry turned smiling. "She's meeting her husband at the Cauldron soon." He shook his head "They're besotted – decapitated... no, under the circumstances, let me rephrase that. My sensible, level headed friend lost her heart and never looked back."
"To a Prince no less... alright for some" Jones scowled. "A matter of state indeed. No doubt swanning around his palace getting his nails done or the like."
Harry could have taken offence on Loki's behalf, but chose to laugh it off instead, shaking his head. "Loki is many things. A mage, a warrior, a genius – a political manipulator without equal, but the one thing he is not is a pampered prince. You'll meet him very soon. And be very careful. He's sharp, very sharp. I love him like a brother, but he doesn't suffer fools gladly...
Now, let's have a good look at this crime scene."