AN: Dear all, thank you for your support and showing so much love for my writing! I am happy to share with you all that my story 'The Sun, The Moon and The Star' has become one of the 2018 Mischief Managed Awards Finalists! If you haven't read it yet and you like the Marauders, please check it out and if you think you'd like to give it a vote, please see the voting link below (just remove all the *):
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I hope you enjoy this chapter, though Hermione probably thought her days as a wanted woman were over. Or are they?
Always,
Sybilla
Bill looked at the clock inside their suite and saw it was nearly two in the morning. He exhaled the herbal smoke from his lungs and observed the street below their balcony, hidden from the view of the people still awake at this hour by notice-me-not charms.
It took Charlie about an hour until he had everything sorted and flooed into their hotel. Hermione had changed into a pair of jeans and a thick sweater to not waste any time while they waited for him, her calls made and someone awaiting her at the technical university. She quickly signed the chain of evidence and took it with her for everyone else who will be handling the samples, and looked in at all the samples to make sure they would have enough for testing. With a few more words to them both she disappeared into the night, her taxi awaiting outside the hotel. Charlie looked like would pass out soon so Bill sent him back home to get some rest now that his shift was over, and returned to the research they already had. Maybe if he read through it one more time, he would spot something they've missed.
He was just taking a break when he saw a muggle taxi stop near the hotel and after a few moments Hermione stepped out, carrying a thick file and the travel cooler. She looked up toward their suite and her eyes narrowed for a moment until Bill lowered the spells and waved to her to let her know he was up and waiting for her. She looked tired but offered a smile nonetheless as she disappeared into the building and soon was unlocking the door to their suite.
"Hey, you didn't have to wait up," she said, locking the door after herself and setting everything down.
"Of course I did," he said and motioned at the glass of elderflower wine he just refilled for her.
"Thank you," she accepted it readily and sunk into the seat next to him, drinking half of the glass in a gulp.
Bill chuckled at her tired antics. "You were longer than I thought you would be," he admitted, taking another toke before offering her the cigarillo.
"Eucalyptus, right?" she asked, accepting it and taking a deep toke as well, closing her eyes while she let the smoke whirl around her mouth before releasing it contentedly. "This reminds me of uni. Two of the guys in my Arithmetic lab always had us around for shisha and clove cigarillos. Haven't tasted any in years," she admitted.
"It's something I picked up in Egypt, helps me settle down sometimes," He looked up at the filling moon.
Hermione closed her eyes a moment, the headache pounding in her temples loudly. She took another sip of her wine and rolled her neck, hearing the cracks of stiffened joints and feeling muscles loosen. "Thank Merlin, today has been a long day."
"Agreed. Do you want to discuss the findings tonight or should we get some sleep?" he asked, seeing how tired she was.
Hermione shook her head. "Tomorrow, definitely. There's something…off about them. I can't put my finger on it but there's something not quite right about the results. But one thing we managed to determine, it's bacterial for sure. We were able to grow a culture, so we know what it looks like but we don't know what it is or how it spreads yet," she said tiredly, clearly worried.
"Hey," Bill got her attention and waited until she looked at him. "We'll figure it out. Right now we need some sleep and we can review everything in the morning at breakfast. How about we lie in until 7 or 8?" he suggested. To most that wouldn't be much of a lie in but he could tell she was an early riser and he himself rarely slept past five in the morning.
Hermione nodded and finished her glass in another large gulp, ready to be done for the day. "I'll set my alarm for 7 so we can get some breakfast from the bakery you mentioned?" she suggested as they headed inside, locking up the balcony securely and raising wards around their abode for the night. Bill readily agreed and they said good night before heading to their respective bedrooms.
Their humble cottage smelled of the dried lavender and nettle hanging near the fireplace, the scent comforting as she stretched and wondered what brought her awake.
Little fingers were reaching up to for her chin, trying to reach for her in that gentle, uncoordinated way. She looked down at her beautiful daughter who was moving around and softly babbling to herself, looking for milk to feed her hungry tummy. Slowly, to not awaken her husband, she untied the top of her shirt and pulled the baby girl closer on her side, offering her one of the milk-heavy breasts to suckle, encouraging her quietly. She smiled lovingly at the babe, their first child, one they have been praying for.
The arm resting on her still soft belly tightened a little and coarse beard hair tickled her neck before lips pressed to the freckled skin there sleepily. "Hûmeta ûser dohtor, lêoflic mæcca?" he whispered in her ear gently.
Hermione gasped for air as she sat up in bed, the smell of lavender and nettle still in her nose. Her hand reached for her breast but it was just as always, not as full and heavy as they felt a moment ago. What the hell was wrong with her? And why was she dreaming in Old English?
French National Archives have been helpful, and not. They found three of the tomes on their original research list, and were able to fairly quickly determine that none of them contained mention of this disease. They were lucky that the tomes were newer and written in a version of the French language they had no trouble translating. They may not have found what they were looking for but at least they were able to tick those three off their list and focus on the older tomes.
"So the herbal components indicated in the analysis is the salve they've been applying on top of the infection," Bill summarised once more.
"Yes, and the infection underneath the salve is of bacterial origin. See, this is the control sample," she pointed to a graph on the previous page, "and this is the early stage of the disease. The bacteria multiply and eat through the tissue or make it rot somehow, causing infection, hence the puss. So we know it's some sort of flesh eating or scale-eating or rotting bacteria. The two issues with that are one, we have no idea where it comes from, and how it travels, and two, we have named this 'bacteria' but we are modern. The term 'bacteria' only came into use in the 19th and 20th century. Ancient texts will refer to it by a variety of other names, so we will have to look very carefully for a term to associate with bacteria," she explained before putting the report into her bag and making sure Apollo was settled in her handbag as they took the international floo to Brussels.
They spun through the network and landed on their feet in the Magical Ministry of Belgium, greeted by a helpful guide form their Department of Magical Creature Care. As they walked through the long hallways and took turns around corners, Bill looked around curiously. His travels and work have never taken him to Belgium before but the contrast between the British and the Belgian Mistry was vast. The architecture of the building itself was Romanesque however he could see neat rows of offices with modern features, muggle telephones and magical memos alike. Workers in robes and muggle dresses and suits both. It was an interesting blend between the ancient and modern, magical and influenced by muggle technology and customs.
They stopped outside an ornate door and their guide briefly poked his head inside the office before holding the door open for them. Inside, walking towards them was a tall, handsome man of Bill's build however in his fifties, his salt-and-pepper hair cropped short and styled neatly.
"Mademoiselle Granger, it is a pleasure as always," he picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles.
"Monsieur Willems," she greeted graciously with a smile and stepped aside for the men to introduce themselves.
Lucas Willems was an incredibly charismatic man. She has met him several times in the past at Ministry functions as part of international relations and he never failed to try and charm Hermione off her feet. He was also a shrewd business man and never failed to utilise an opportunity for good press. This could play into their hand.
"Please do sit down," he invited them to the chairs in front of his desk and a moment later their tea arrived. "What do we owe this wonderful visit?" he asked, sensing their purpose.
Before they went in that morning, Hermione and Bill agreed to let her do the majority of the talking and Bill could see why. The Head of the Belgian Department of Magical Creature Care was a bit of a sleaze by his unobtrusive appreciation of Hermione's décolletage in the periwinkle blouse she wore this morning.
Hermione handed him over a letter from the Romanian Ministry of Magic which Charlie provided for them earlier that morning, stating that they were now acting on behalf of the country and the welfare of dragon kind in the whole of Europe. "We are conducting research into a malignant disease spreading amongst the dragons at the Romanian dragon reserve. So far we have had no further cases in the rest of Europe, however there have been new cases amongst the dragons at the reserve in the past 24 hours despite the strict quarantine imposed. We fear that dragon welfare in the whole continent is at risk. We would like to request the co-operation of your department in sourcing research materials and providing us with a space to conduct out research at your premises," she explained, her expression somber but tone warm towards him.
He read the letter, listening to their request and nodded in an agreeable fashion. "Of course, we will be happy to provide all you need. And what research materials would you like to request?" he asked.
Hermione handed over the amended list she prepared specifically for him. The majority of the aged tomes they wanted to consult were here, in Switzerland and in Czech Republic. Belgian archives and national library was connected to the Ministry, built underground next to the Ministry building in order to withstand any wizarding or muggle wars. If they got access to the Ministry, they would have access to the libraries.
"These should be available in our archives. I will assign my deputy to source them for you while you set up in one of our conference rooms. Please follow me," Willems got up and led them down the hall to a spacious conference room with some beautifully carved cabinets and a large polished table that would suit them well. "I hope this will be suitable for your needs?" he asked.
"Merci, Monsieur Willems," she thanked him with an appreciative smile.
"Always a pleasure, Mademoiselle Granger. My deputy will be along shortly with your materials and some refreshments," he kissed her knuckles again before leaving the room.
Bill looked like he was busy with folding his coat but really was casting a few charms that confirmed there was some surveillance and nodded to Hermione to indicate they should be careful in their phrasing, confirming her own suspicions about the choice of room. She had enough experience in politics to occasionally foreign dignitaries and diplomats were observed or listened in on, but it was not a common practice an there was always a reason behind it. The fact that they were in a conference room indicates that they were not trusted. She was glad they were both cautious and agreed to be careful about their wording.
"I hope we find the answers today, the Belgian archives are one of the eldest ones in the whole of Europe," she said conversationally while folding her coat for Apollo to curl up on.
She felt Bill's presence very close and turned around, nearly bumping into him. "Are you alright?" he asked very softly in barely a whisper to not be overheard nonetheless.
Hermione nodded, noticing the sweet freckles on his nose. "He's duplicitous but useful in this case. I just look forward to getting out of here, hopefully with the information we need," she whispered softly. "The room is somehow bugged for sure. Let's keep any big revelations to ourselves or on paper where they can't hear it," she suggested.
"No problem," he agreed readily, hoping they won't be long here. "Oh, I could have sworn you had something in your hair," he said in his usual tone before stepping away from her and into his seat, looking over their notes.
"So this one," he pointed to the graph they were discussing earlier in the analysis of the diseased flesh. "We cannot confirm the way this is spreading?" he asked, looking at the list of ingredients they found applied to the scales.
"No. If it was viral and airborne, I would understand why even quarantined dragons were suddenly falling ill. This seems like something that would be spread via direct contact. A worker who doesn't wash hands, or their equipment… something of the sort," she mused but really wrote down a question for Bill on the paper. Did Charlie confirmed that that was not the case? We need to be able to rule out human factor.
"Hmm.." Bill sounded as if he was in deep thought. "Perhaps a review of the quarantine procedures and how they were implemented? We could suggest that as part of the investigation," he commented while picking up the ball-point pen and scribbling his response in his tall, loopy handwriting. Equipment is sterilised after each use, the staff is vetted and only specified handlers are looking after the sick dragons. There should be no cross-contamination but I can double-check with Char.
Hermione nodded. "That sounds reasonable," she replied neutrally but clearly nodding towards the suggestion on the parchment.
She covered the parchment up inconspicuously by placing another report on top of it as they heard the book cart nearing their door. Hermione took out her personal vinyl gloves and cleared up a section of the table for the stand that some of the older tomes will be placed onto. And she was not disappointed. The cart held a few tomes from the past 400 years and three gems from the 12th, 14th and 15th century. She could not wait to leaf through those.
"Mademoiselle," the deputy greeted with a slight bow and handed back her list along with the index cards for each book that held information about the book title, author, language, and any notes on the condition that will indicate how the books need to be handled.
"Merci," she accepted them gratefully and pulled on her gloves, looking at the books first to determine what would be the best course of action. "I think it would be wise to divide them by older and newer," she suggested and looked at the index cards. "Lucking the four newer ones are in Modern French. Are you happy to look into those?" she asked Bill.
He nodded and picked up his book pile before settling back in his seat. He opened the first book but his gaze was still on Hermione, observing her in her element. She gently carried the first book onto the stand and once again read through the index card to see if there was anything she needed to be careful about in particular. Once she looked satisfied, she summoned a pouch of tools from her handbag that she unwrapped and laid out. He could see more gloves, tweezers, some vials with differently coloured liquids and powders, and an interesting looking pair of glasses. Hermione put them on and spoke a soft latin spell. In a moment the glasses cast a brighter, blue-tinted light on the page below, allowing her to see greater detail and any notes that were made in faint pencil if need be. Bill guessed it was not damaging to the tomes like regular light, he's rarely used blue lighting himself. He had never before seen someone from her field at work but she was just as he imagined, moving carefully but with precision.
He was done with two books by the time Hermione gently closed the first one. It was time consuming gently going through a thick tome with small letters and in a foreign tongue. This particular book was in Middle French, a historical division of the French language that covered the period from the 14th to the early 17th centuries, and required close attention as this time was very changeable and the language had particular nuances in each of the centuries. She rolled and flexed her shoulders and gratefully accepted a cup of tea from Bill who was very much aware that their research options were narrowing down.
If they were unsuccessful here, there were only two more destinations that could hold the answer. What if they could not find it? What if this wasn't something old but very much new, a mutation of an old disease that was now attacking in a new form? They've thought about that but still would have to find the original in order to trace a mutation... It was maddening.
Hermione huffed in frustration when the second book was so fragile it would take her forever to leaf through it. Apollo perked at the sound from his human and padded over, careful as he jumped into her lap to keep his tail away from the precious books. Hermione leaned down and kissed the top of his head in silent thanks for his affection and support, unable to stroke him with the gloves she was wearing. She looked at the index card and frowned slightly before gently leafing through to a particular section of the book. She carefully translated the first ten pages of the chapter and began making copies with an unobtrusive spell onto a fresh roll of parchment. She made sure to read all that was pertinent to the chapter before gently closing the book and stretching.
She got Bill's attention as she got up, signalling she has something to discuss and stretched her shoulders for the possible audience they had. "We should get some lunch, I'm quite hungry," she suggested. "Let me quickly clean up this mess and we con come back to it. I have half of the book to go," she shuffled some parchments as if tidying but really making sure the one parchment she needed to take with her as on the edge of the pile.
"Sure, I could definitely use a bite," Bill offered and watched as she took her handbag, set it down on the table and began packing up her tools. She dropped her scarf as if accidentally and picked it back up, the scroll she had copied hidden within and a spare clean roll of parchment in its place to not leave any evidence behind. "Come on, sweetie," she placed Apollo into her bag as well to guard the scroll and carried her handbag with her out of the room as they discussed what food they were in the mood for.
