Disclaimer: I still own nothing, Harry Potter still belongs to JKR.
A/N: Hi guys! I've updated quickly to make up for such a long absence and the rather lackluster chapter 6 but I promise that the plot really gets underway from here on in. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 7: The Best Laid Plans…
Hermione sat cross-legged on the hard stone platform with her notes spread out in front of her. Sitting this close to the Veil she could hear indistinguishable voices whispering like the rustling of dead leaves floating out of the curtain-like miasma.
The runes magically inscribed into the Veil's stony arch were faded and worn but she had still managed to identify the majority of them. Each rune brought her closer to a solution and a fluttering of excitement and impatience tickled at her insides. She could feel how she teetered on the edge of a breakthrough, unable to quite grasp an elusive resolution.
With a frustrated huff of breath Hermione picked up her mug and sipped at the freshly refilled coffee. Her head still pounded after waking up to Teddy's wailing as Remus dragged him out of Grimmauld Place that morning. Steeling herself against the niggling headache, she let the caffeine work its magic on her concentration and turned back to her work.
Hermione had deduced that the runes had to be maintained regularly to keep their form in the stone and it was apparent that this had not happened for some time. There were layers of ancient wandwork covering the archway.
Hermione reached out to touch the groove of a faint rune tentatively. The shape of a backwards seven was etched deeply into the stone, gleaming with centuries of spells. As her finger brushed over end of the rune she noticed another shallower line that turned the rune into a backwards 'Z'. She frowned at the discrepancy in depth and cast a trace spell on the marking. The deeply engraved part of the rune had thick layers of charm residue unlike the lower line, which had only two.
Before she could properly examine her results a paper airplane flew into the side of her head and tangled in her messy bun. With a groan of irritation as her spell faded she plucked the parchment from her hair and opened it up.
Miss Granger,
You are required to attend a crisis meeting in the Minister of Magic's private conference room immediately.
Yours sincerely,
Grizel Clutterbuck
Senior Undersecretary to Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt.
Hermione furrowed her brow at the note and gathered up her papers before leaving the Death Chamber. As she strode through the Department's many corridors and up to the lift that would take her to the meeting, she considered the summons.
The only reason for a crisis meeting would be related to Griffiths' murder but the suddenness of the summons made her stomach lurch. If Kingsley had wanted to discuss the circumstances around the break-in and murder then he would have arranged the meeting yesterday. Hermione paused and readjusted her notes to press the button on the lift.
The only thing that would make Kingsley call an emergency meeting would be if new and disturbing evidence had been uncovered. Hermione stepped into the lift with a sense of foreboding and clutched onto the handrail as she hurtled up to the Minister's level.
Hermione arrived in front of the meeting room door and knocked lightly. "Enter," came Kingsley's deep baritone through the wooden door. She stepped into the room to see ministry workers from various departments sat around the minister at a round table. She sat herself down in a chair next to a woman from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"I came as soon as I got the message, Minister," Hermione said as she settled into her seat.
"Excellent," Kingsley replied. "I think that's everyone. Dedworth?" He enquired to the Head of Aurors who sat on his left. "You can begin."
Dedworth, the auror stood up and cleared his throat. "Now, I am sure that you are all aware about the circumstances surrounding the murder of a ministry employee following the break-in at the Department of Mysteries on Sunday night?" There was a murmur of ascent from all around the table. "This afternoon we were contacted by the group we believe orchestrated said crime," Dedworth paused to let the information sink in.
Hermione felt a shiver of dread in the silence. "We received a note, written once again in blood, that demanded certain things of the ministry."
"What demands?" Interjected a bald man with a German accent from the International Magical Office of Law.
Dedworth sent the man a hard glance. "I was getting to it Dehoff!" He snapped irritably. "This group has demanded that the Minister resign due to his close relationship with Harry Potter and 'obvious favouritism', that it is in the best interests of the magic community for the Ministry to keep track and police each witch and wizard's blood status –"
"Outrageous!" Cried the woman next to Hermione. Hermione had to agree with her.
"They also say that it is a suppression of their freedom of speech to outlaw pureblood supremacist groups, and that if the ministry does not allow them to practice openly then they will make themselves known to the public through any means necessary –"
"Presumably violence," muttered Scott Eastchurch, a young auror.
"This must have taken a lot of blood to write..." a spokesman from the International Confederation of Wizards said queasily.
"And finally, they demand that objects in the Department of Mysteries be available to the general population, provided they pass a blood status check –"
Hermione couldn't contain herself anymore. "That is possibly the most ludicrous demand of the lot! Any object in the Department is dangerous and not fully explained! What makes them think that we will take any notice of this blatant attempt at intimidation?" Ordinarily Hermione would have been scandalised at the suggestion of interrupting the Head of Aurors but the fear and rage the news had left her with had overridden any manners.
"The letter was not the only thing they sent, Miss Granger," Kingsley answered wearily.
"Indeed," concurred Dedworth. "They also sent this," he said flinging a dismembered hand down on the table.
Someone in the room let out a little squeak of horror and the spokesman from the International Confederation fell into a dead faint. The grizzly present lay in the middle of the table, the corpse-pale flesh making the golden ring on the middle finger stand out all the more. Hermione peered at the ring and felt horrid stab of recognition.
"Is that...?" She began.
"This hand belongs to Director Gawain Robards of the Department of Mysteries. He did not turn up for work this morning and there are signs of a struggle at his house," Dedworth said grimly.
"Oh Merlin," Hermione breathed as she wracked her brains for the last time she saw Robards. It had been yesterday with Harry, she hadn't seen him all morning.
"What course of action do you suggest Dedworth?" Kingsley asked as the auror removed the hand from the table.
"Firstly, everyone in this room is expected to keep the news to themselves – we simply cannot allow the press to get hold of this information it would be a public relations nightmare. Secondly, we must allow this group to see that we take their actions seriously, if we learnt anything from Minster Fudge it is that pretending something isn't there doesn't make it go away," Dedworth said as he sat down.
"You can't be suggesting that we give them what they want?" Hermione exclaimed.
"No, Granger, but in hostage situations we must tread very carefully," Dedworth said with a sigh.
There was a brief silence in the room, Hermione could almost hear the news sinking in to peoples' heads.
"Sir?" She asked Dedworth nervously.
"Granger?" He replied.
"What are this group calling themselves?" She swallowed against a sensation of anxious nausea.
Dedworth took a deep breath and rubbed his wrinkled brow. "I am afraid it's a name we're all rather familiar with: the Death Eaters."
o0o
Hermione walked back to the Death Chamber, the disturbing meeting still playing in her head. How could the Death Eaters believe that they would be able to achieve anything without the fear and warped genius of Voldemort? Surely they would make a mistake without the totalitarian rule of Voldemort and his wealth of dark knowledge?
Suddenly, a connection snapped together in her head and all thoughts of Death Eaters dropped. "How could I have been so stupid?" She exclaimed to herself as she raced up to the Veil.
It was all so clear. Someone in the Veil's long history had made a mistake when retracing the runes onto the stone! Instead of the rune Laguz, which stood for renewal and return, someone had inscribed Eihwaz and as a result had strengthened the pull of the Veil making it impossible for one to return.
Hermione pulled her wand out and erased the faded rune she had been examining before the summons to the meeting. She then carefully engraved the shape of a backwards seven and watched as the runes around the Veil shimmered as though filled with molten silver. It was so simple! How could she have missed it?
If her research was correct then she could step through the Veil and return safely, hopefully with Sirius in tow. It was a big risk; she could still end up trapped there. There was no telling whether the ancient and neglected structure would withstand her intrusion. With the events of the day ringing in her mind and her concern for Harry only growing, she closed her eyes, summoned all of her Gryffindor courage, and took the plunge through the archway.
Hermione felt like she had been drenched in cold water, as though someone had cast a disillusionment charm on her. When she opened her eyes she was stood in a place that existed only in shades of grey, with a strangely substantial mist fogging her vision. Dark shapes seemed to loom in the distance as the mist moved in lazy waves.
This was it.
Hermione took several steps forward and readied herself to begin her search. However triumph and excitement turned to icy cold fear as a pair of wraith-like arms wrapped themselves tightly across her face.
Kicking desperately against her assailant Hermione tried to scream and draw breath with no avail against the vice-like grip and felt a wave of dizziness begin to fog her mind...
A/N: Please review – I love to hear what you think :D