Many thanks go to thekingofsweden1, rpeh and brianna-xox for beta reading. Their work and diligence has improved the story a lot.
Chapter 15: Cracks
London, Ministry of Magic, September 18th, 1999, 16.35 hours
Wand-Leader Hermione appeared in the Apparition Area for the Corps. She was safe. Alive. Before she could say anything, she felt herself float away from the area, deposited not so gently a few yards away.
"Clear the spot! Get the wounded to St. Mungo's!"
She was panting, coughing and covered with sweat. Her lungs hurt with each breath. Too much smoke, she realised. Far too much. She blinked through eyes filled with tears - and not just due to the smoke she had flown in - and saw more Wands enter the area and disapparate. A lot more Wands. Entire Teams.
"That's Hermione!" someone shouted, and once more she was lifted into the air. She was getting sick of leaving the ground.
"Hermione!"
She turned her head. "Dean?"
Her friend nodded, smiling widely. "You're alive! What happened? Jane alerted the Corps, and our first wave ran into an ambush!"
"What?" No, her team had been ambushed… she shook her head. Of course! "It was a trap… they were ready for us, the entire forest was a trap." She had to pause to cough. "Enchanted strangling vines, and Fiendfyre. The field was trapped as well. Anti-Apparition Jinxes everywhere."
"We heard that, yes. And our vanguard was just ambushed right where they appeared," Dean said.
"That's Hermione?" another voice cut in. Wand-Leader Benjamin. "What happened to the Minister's son?"
"We flew through the forest, away from the Fiendfyre…" She coughed. "He was the first to get away. Haven't seen him since then." Hadn't he appeared in the Ministry as well? What about Cleo? Jane?
"Hermione!"
Dean and Benjamin jumped to attention. Hermione followed their example, but had to bend over as coughs wracked her.
"What happened? Where is Draco?"
She repeated her report. The Minister turned to Benjamin. "I want that forest secured and those Fanatics killed or driven away! Save my son!"
"Yes, sir!" Benjamin saluted, and disapparated, presumably to inform Jane. The Wand-Commander would be at the front, directing the Corps. The Minister turned away, then stopped. "Get her to a Healer," he added, almost as an afterthought.
Dean helped steady her. "Can you walk?"
She nodded, coughing again.
"We'll take the Floo then." He started leading her towards the next Floo connection.
"What about Jane? Cleo?"
"I don't know."
She closed her eyes. "They knew we'd call for reinforcements. They didn't want to just ambush us, they also used us as bait."
Dean muttered a curse. In the background, she heard the Minister shout again. "The whole Corps is deploying?" She asked, between coughs.
"Yes. All but the skeleton crew. The Minister's son is in danger…"
"That's what they are counting on. They know we have to attack, no matter the cost, for Draco." She spat out the last word. "I saw Laura and Jasmine die. Teresa and Mabel disappeared scouting the forest. They must be dead as well. But Cleo and Jane…"
They had reached the Floo connection. Dean grabbed some powder and threw it into the fire. He dragged her with him while she was coughing too much to say the destination.
"St. Mungo's!"
London, St. Mungo's, September 18th, 1999, 22.35 hours
Hermione woke up in a room in St. Mungo's. She recognised the the furniture at once. Dean was sitting on a chair next to her bed and Colin was dozing in a conjured armchair nearby.
She took a deep breath. Her lungs didn't hurt anymore. "Did you reach Antoine?" It felt great to be able to talk normally again.
Dean nodded. "I told him you were OK, but had to stay in St. Mungo's for a few hours, for observation. He wanted to come, but I told him it was a Corps operation."
"Thank you." She smiled. Ron wouldn't have had to worry over much. And Luna was on a trip to Sweden, looking for pygmy trolls. She wouldn't return until Monday. "Did you hear anything about the others?"
Dean drew a hissing breath, and she knew he had bad news. "Jane is dead. She never made it out of the forest, as far as I know. You already knew Jasmine and Laura were killed. They found Mabel and Teresa's remains - or so they think. Cleo's alive, but…"
"What?"
"She caught a nasty curse. She apparated directly to St. Mungo's, and they didn't recognise her."
Hermione winced. That sounded bad. But she was alive, at least.
"The worst is Draco, though." Dean's lips formed a thin line and she could almost see the anger boil up inside her friend.
"What happened to him?"
"He apparated to his home, but didn't think to inform the Corps right away. While we were charging a trapped, burning forest, he was already safe!" Dean ground his teeth. "If he had not wasted so much time changing his robes, we'd not have lost another half a dozen Wands in that ambush and that pointless battle!"
Hermione closed her eyes. "Merlin!"
"Yes. I heard Sarah was blamed for the losses, even though the Minister ordered her to charge in and save his son, no matter the cost." He shook his head. "I can't confirm that though, just a rumour."
Hermione nodded. But for the Corps, even a rumour like this was a bad sign. Or a good sign, depending on your view.
London, Diagon Alley, September 18th, 1999, 22.45 hours
Stepping out of the Floo connection, Minister for Magic Lucius Malfoy sighed at the sight of his wife. He had had better days. He had almost lost his only son and heir in an ambush by the Dark Lord. He had lost a dozen of his Wands, among them some of his best, in exchange for half that number of enemies. He had lost face in front of his Wands too, when he had lost his composure and ordered them to charge into an ambush to save his son.
"Good evening, husband," Narcissa greeted him with a clipped tone and a stone-faced expression. Only her eyes betrayed her fury.
And his wife was about to lose her temper. At least she was still controlling herself in front of their guards. Lucius couldn't afford to lose their confidence in him. That they didn't think much of Draco right now could be fixed, in time.
"Good evening, dear." He nodded at her, then at the two Wands guarding the Floo connection.
"I need to talk to you."
"Of course, dear."
He smiled, and followed Narcissa to the drawing room. His smile vanished, together with his wife's hold on her temper, as soon as the door was closed behind them.
"Draco almost died due to your stupid plotting! You put him against the Dark Lord, dared that monster to go after him, and he did!" Narcissa all but screamed at him.
He suddenly was very aware of just how much she resembled Bellatrix. For a moment he was tempted to cast a Shield Charm, even though his wife hadn't drawn her wand.
"You and your clever ploys and plots! Your oh so loyal mudbloods failed to protect Draco! If he wasn't such an exceptional flyer, he'd have been killed! Burned to death like your useless animals! They couldn't even spot a simple trap!"
He ground his teeth. No one had spotted that trap, even though in hindsight, it had been obvious. He couldn't even blame the Wands, much - they didn't know about the Dark Lord.
"They died for our son," he said.
"As they should!" Narcissa spat. "It's the only way they can atone for their failure!"
That was entering very dangerous ground. Was his wife not just losing her temper, but her sanity? Like her sister? "They were under his command." In hindsight, he should have told Jane that she could overrule Draco for his own safety.
"And they failed him! Failed us!" At least she wasn't banishing or wrecking the furniture. She stared at him. "And this disgusting ploy of yours ends! I will not have my son lay with mudbloods any longer!"
Lucius was quite certain that Draco was currently enjoying the company of a Wand in his room, but it wouldn't be smart to point this out. "As you wish," he nodded at her.
It wasn't a big concession. Hermione's loyalty was no longer a major concern, not after today's events. The entire Corps' loyalty towards Draco had suffered from his son's mistake. An understandable mistake, given that he had just barely escaped an ambush by the Dark Lord, and hadn't thought to return to the Ministry, but a mistake still.
"And he'll not take part in this war anymore. He'll stay safe until your mudbloods have killed the Dark Lord, or died trying!"
"That's not your decision, dear, but his, and his alone. Our son is a man now, and no longer a child to be ordered around." If Draco sat the war out, any chance of regaining the Wands' respect would be lost. He'd have to explain that to his son, if needed. Carefully worded, of course.
"His decision? You manipulated him! You made him think he should risk his life!" she hissed at him. "You encouraged him to fornicate with those sluts!"
"I did not," he lied.
"Of course you did! I'm not stupid!" She sneered at him.
He met her eyes. He wouldn't let her fear ruin his family. She trembled, then looked away.
"Curse you!" she said, sobbed. Then Narcissa started to cry. For real, not for show.
He felt a pang of guilt. He knew he was right, but he didn't want to hurt her. Stepping closer, he put his hand on her shoulder, feeling her flinch. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He was, but he'd not yield to her. He couldn't. Too much was at stake.
She didn't answer, but she didn't shrug his hand off, or pull away when he embraced her.
Beauxbatons, France, September 19th, 1999, 00.30 hours
Albus Dumbledore read the report from Severus again, frowning.
I informed the Dark Lord about Draco's task and suggested that the Dark Lord's forces ambush him. Sadly, he managed to survive, but the Ministry's forces were further weakened by the losses of some of their best Wands, even if a few of those with Draco escaped as well. I retain the Dark Lord's trust while Rabastan was punished for bungling the ambush.
He couldn't fault Severus. Draco's death would have hurt Lucius, maybe even driven a wedge between him and Narcissa, and the Dark Lord's trust in the spy would have greatly increased. Severus didn't know about Albus's other allies, especially not about Hermione.
No, if anyone was to blame, it was Albus himself, for not considering this when he had heard of Miss Hermione's new assignment. If he had told Severus not to take action against Draco the young witch wouldn't have been at risk.
It had worked out well enough though. The Wands' trust in the Malfoy family had been shaken, and Miss Hermione was alive and well. The deaths of the other Wands was tragic, but it would pit the others more firmly against Tom, and might even facilitate a peaceful solution once Lucius was killed.
He rubbed his beard. There was another opportunity thanks to Severus's action. Draco might have escaped, but he had lost the respect of the Wands. Severus should be able to convince the Dark Lord that this was a good time for Lucius to die.
London, St. Mungo's, September 19th, 1999, 09.30 hours
Wand-Leader Hermione and Wand Dean approached the room Cleo was recovering in at St. Mungo's. Wand-Leader Benjamin was standing outside, leaning against the door. He straightened when he saw them coming.
"Good morning Benjamin," Hermione said, nodding at her older colleague. Dean simply nodded his greeting.
"Hermione, Dean." Benjamin looked as if he hadn't slept at all. He looked her over. "I heard you were hurt as well."
Hermione shook her head. "Just some smoke poisoning."
"More than some," Dean added. "She was coughing so much, she had trouble talking." He ignored her glare.
Benjamin snorted. "You were lucky. Cleo caught a curse. A real bad one. Dozens of cuts, dark magic."
Hermione hissed. Every Wand knew what that meant. Scars at best. Wounds that never healed, at worst. If they lived.
"She almost died from blood loss, they poured Blood-Replenishing Potions in her while the Healers worked on her wounds. They didn't know how to close the wounds. No one knew the counter-curse, if any even existed. They finally managed to save her, but… it's not a pretty sight," Benjamin said while moving away from the door. "She's asleep, finally."
Hermione nodded, then entered the room. Cleo was in the single bed. An ugly knotted scar ran from the middle of her forehead down to her jaw, over where her left eye had been. Another was barely visible on her collarbone, disappearing under the blanket.
She knew this kind of scar.
Dean shook his head. "Merlin!"
"They must have used a scarring curse to treat her," Hermione said. "Dark magic." It was ingenious, in a way. Force the wounds closed with more dark magic. But while the curse saved Cleo's life, it would have left her with hideous scars.
She stepped closer, and and looked at her friend. Her hair had been cut, but that could be regrown. Unless it was dark magic as well. She was pale, which made the scar stand out even more, and looked far more frail than Hermione remembered her.
"Get well soon," she said, placing a card on the side board next to Cleo's bed. "We'll get whoever did this to you."
"Yes," Dean said.
Benjamin was leaning against the wall when they left the room again. He looked at them, but didn't say anything.
"I still have to write my report," she said. "They didn't demote Sarah, did they?"
"What? Of course not!" Benjamin said. "What happened?"
"Cleo and I were the only ones who escaped. By sheer luck, if you can call it that," Hermione said, glancing back at the door. "Us two, and Draco."
Benjamin sneered. "I heard he ran, left you all to face the Fanatics."
"Not exactly. We had lost Mabel, Teresa and Laura before Jane gave the order to retreat. Jasmine died while we got on our brooms. Fiendfyre. Draco had the fastest broom, and outpaced us," Hermione explained.
"But you wouldn't have been in that forest if not for him." Benjamin scoffed. "He wanted his harem of witches, and wanted to play at being a leader. That's why you and Cleo were pulled from us."
"He wouldn't have been able to create his 'harem' if the Minister hadn't supported it," Hermione pointed out.
Dean nodded. "I heard it wasn't Draco's idea either."
Benjamin's face grew hard. "Are you certain?"
"We're not certain, but when has Draco ever been active in chasing criminals?" Hermione pointed out.
"He's been chasing witches," Dean added.
"And even if it wasn't his idea, the Minister certainly didn't stop him," Hermione said.
Benjamin nodded. "Sarah's getting the blame, but he ordered her to press the attack against a prepared enemy. Even though we'd have been too late to save Draco.
"Is it true he was safely at home while the battle was still going on?"
The older Wand-Leader nodded. "Yes. Didn't think to tell anyone."
"Didn't ask about his team either," Dean added. "Or care."
Hermione thought she heard Benjamin mutter 'bloody idiot' under his breath, but she wasn't certain. She was certain though that he wouldn't keep his opinion to himself. He was too angry, he needed to talk to someone.
Rumours would spread. And hopefully, more Wands would question the Minister.
London, Diagon Alley, September 19th, 1999, 14.30 hours
"You're early," Ron Weasley said when Harry stepped out of the vanishing cabinet in his room in the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was supposed to search for the Dark Lord's current hideout with Dumbledore, but later in the day.
"Yes," his friend grinned. "I didn't want to leave you all alone and brooding, parted from your girlfriend for the day."
Ron sighed at his friend's antics. "Trouble with Ginny?"
Harry nodded. "Sort of. She wanted to come as well. 'Just to meet Ron's girlfriend', she said, but…"
"... we can't take people to Britain just for that." Ron shook his head. "But you know that she'll be even unhappier with you for going ahead of schedule, and leaving her."
"Yes." Harry looked around. "Do you have a drink here?"
Ron narrowed his eyes. "Harry, are you trying to make her mad at you?"
"What?" Harry looked startled.
"You look like when you were dumping Jacqueline, and wanted her to dump you," Ron said, remembering that short-lived relationship. If Harry was pulling the same stupid stunt on his sister… they were not 15-year-old idiots anymore.
Harry sighed. "I'm not trying to make her mad. Not really."
"But…?"
"You know… what we are doing is dangerous." Harry sat down at the table.
"I know. That's why my sister isn't coming to Britain until the war's over." Ron was wondering what Harry was talking about.
"We're closing in on the Dark Lord and on Malfoy. Anyone of us could die during the next missions. Even with Dumbledore at our side."
Ah. Ron thought he understood now what was eating his friend. "Yes." He summoned two butterbeers from the chest in his room and handed one to Harry. "It is dangerous. Percy and Tonks almost died. You and I were lucky." He still had some nightmares about tentacles, from time to time.
"Yes, we were lucky. Luck runs out sometime."
"It just has to last a bit longer," Ron said, opening his bottle. Then he sighed. "Hermione was attacked by the Dark Lord's followers yesterday."
"I know."
"Her friend said she was fine, but she spent the night at the hospital in London." He hadn't seen her since then.
"That kind of fine then." Harry nodded.
He would know about that, of course. Ron remembered how often his friend had claimed to be 'fine' after a Quidditch accident. "Yes. It was a close call, at the least. She was lucky."
Harry took a sip from his beer. "Don't you want to lock her up somewhere safe?"
Ron had felt that urge a number of times. "She'd kill me if I tried."
"What would you do if she died?"
Ron didn't really want to think about that, much less talk about it. "Do you want to know what I think Ginny will do should you die?"
"... yes."
Ron finished his bottle. "She'd go berserk and fly on her broom to Britain to take revenge if we don't let her join the mission."
"That's what I'm afraid of." Harry closed his eyes.
"Well, don't die then. Don't do anything stupidly brave, and you'll be fine. Dumbledore will handle the Dark Lord." Ron tried to sound as confident as he could.
His friend sighed though. "It's not that simple."
"What's eating you, Harry?" Ron was losing his patience with his friend. Before a mission, you were not supposed to talk like that. It was like Quidditch - if you went into a match thinking you'd lose, you'd likely lose.
"Dumbledore might not be able to handle the Dark Lord for me. Boy-Who-Lived and all, you know."
Ron stared at Harry's forehead, where the scar was hidden behind muggle makeup. "What do you mean?"
"We're kind of… connected. There is even a prophecy, that we'll fight each other." Harry looked past Ron, out of the window.
"Is that why you can sense his Horcruxes?"
"Yes. Dumbledore says I'm also protected by whatever my mother did before she died, but… he isn't certain it'll be enough."
"Dumbledore doesn't really put much faith in prophecies," Ron pointed out. The professor's arguments with Beauxbatons' Divination teacher were almost legendary.
"Let's just say there's a lot of facts backing this up." Harry stared at him. "I might have to die to kill him, Ron."
"Merde." Ron hadn't known about this. Harry had always had a devil may care attitude, taking risks on the pitch no one else did. And now this.
"Yes."
"Since when have you known?"
"Few years."
"Those special lessons with the professor."
"Yes."
"He has a plan though, right? He's had years to prepare." Dumbledore had to have a plan.
"Yes, he has a plan to kill Voldemort permanently and save me. But he's not certain it'll work." Harry winced.
"Well, then we simply kill him non-permanently, and take another twenty years to work on a better plan!"
His friend shook his head. "I told him to go for Voldemort's final death."
"What?" Ron stood up. "Are you bloody crazy?"
"I'm not. But I might go crazy if he survives. We have a connection." Harry pointed at his forehead. "A piece of his soul is stuck in there. Whatever mom did has been keeping me safe, but… I'm starting to feel him. His emotions. Sometimes I catch glimpses of what he sees. Despite my Occlumency. And it's getting worse."
"Merde." Ron was horrified. To imagine that sort of connection to the Dark Lord… to share his thoughts… he shuddered.
Harry sighed. "I don't want to become a danger, or lose my mind. So… if the plan doesn't work out, please… "
"You have to tell her."
"I can't."
"You have to. If you don't, and you die, she'll always wonder if you didn't trust her. If you didn't think she was strong enough to handle it. Not good enough." Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Trust me, if you care for her, you have to tell her this."
"She'll kill me."
"No, she won't. She loves you, mec."
She'd probably make him wish that she had killed him, a bit. But Harry deserved it, a bit. To hide something like this, from Ginny, and from him… Ron tried to feel angry about it, but he couldn't. Not when he imagined what his best friend was going through, and what he was facing.
Harry sighed, and stood up. "I guess I better get it over with, then."
Ron nodded. "That's the spirit, mec." He grinned. "If she kills you, do I get your broom?"
Harry stared at him, then chuckled. "You wish, mec," he said, before stepping into the cabinet.
Ron kept his grin up until the cabinet was closed.
Merde.
London, Diagon Alley, September 19th, 1999, 17.30 hours
Ron Weasley had his wand out when he heard the vanishing cabinet creak. He didn't expect trouble to arrive from France, but after more than a month as a spy in Britain, some habits were ingrained. And when the doors opened, he knew trouble had arrived.
"Did you know?" Ginny asked, in place of a greeting.
"No," Ron answered reflexively.
She glared at him, as if trying to decide if he was lying, while he pointed his wand away.
"What are you doing here?" he finally asked. "This is…"
"Too dangerous for a witch? Like your lover or Tonks?" Ginny said, putting her hands on her hip. "Too dangerous for a Weasley, like you, Fred and George and Percy?"
"Percy and Tonks almost died!"
"And you're still here." She tossed her hair back. "And Percy and Tonks are not available. Which means you need more people."
They did. But they didn't need his sister. "You know why you can't do this. You're too well-known in France."
She scoffed. "Hah! If Harry can disappear for an evening or two a week, so can I. Everyone will assume we're off in a love-nest." Before he could say anything, she sneered. "And don't give me that line about being the reason for Harry to come back, the reason he'll not do something reckless! He told me about the real prophecy! He told me he might have to die to kill Voldemort once and for all! Ce con!"
His little sister was shaking, and he could see tears in her eyes. He knew this revelation had to have hurt her greatly. To find out that your love might have to die, and that he had kept this from her… It wouldn't have helped that she had resented Ron and his brothers slightly overprotective attitude towards her for years.
He saw that she had her wand drawn. "He told me today. I told him to tell you." Ron didn't like to sacrifice his friend, but it was every wizard for themselves in such a situation.
Ginny conjured a couch and slammed herself on it more than she sat down. She took a few deep breaths to calm down. "He told me. And I told him I won't let him go off to die by himself."
"You didn't hex him, did you?" They had a mission tonight.
She sniffed. "Of course I didn't. I'm not a silly little girl who thinks she can solve her troubles with a hex, Ron!"
"Not anymore, you mean," he said, before he could catch himself.
She glared at him, but she couldn't exactly hex him now without proving her claim wrong.
"Where is Harry then?"
She shrugged. "He should be along in a while, with Dumbledore."
"And what did our parents say about this?"
She looked away. "They don't exactly know. Yet."
He closed his eyes. "So, you're doing the exact same thing you are mad at Harry for doing?"
"Yes."
Ron sighed. "Ma petite, that's not exactly mature."
Ginny shrugged. "I'll tell them after it's over."
He realised she'd not budge, and tried another argument. "You're not trained in combat, not to the level we are. You'd be a liability in battle."
"I'm not planning to fight side by side with you lot," she said. "I'm the best flyer of all of you, with the possible exception of Harry."
"Possible exception?" He raised his eyebrows.
She folded her arms. "I'm the better chaser."
"And that will matter in battle exactly how?"
Her grin made him regret his question at once.
"Did you know Fred and George have created many wonderful items that can be thrown at enemies?"
Ron was going to kill the twins, if they all survived this.
London, Diagon Alley, September 19th, 1999, 18.05 hours
Wand-Leader Hermione entered Ron's room at the Leaky Cauldron with a smile. She had spent the day filling out reports, and answering questions - from Sarah, and from other Wands. But the day was over now, finally! And if she was early enough, they might have enough time to…
The redhead sitting on a new couch next to Ron, waving at her made her drop that line of thought. Hermione recognised her from the Quidditch magazine covers at once. "Ginny Weasley, I presume."
"Hello. You must be Hermione."
"Yes."
She looked the girl over. Red hair, freckles, pale skin despite her occupation… she looked at Ron and back to his sister, realising she hadn't ever seen Ron without his muggle disguise.
Ginny had studied her as well. "You're not what I expected after hearing Ron talk about you."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, glancing at her lover. "Really?"
Ron stood up. "She's been dying to meet you, and took the first excuse to head over to Britain." He gathered her in a hug, and they kissed.
"Well, that explains a lot."
The redhead's comment made Hermione break off, and blink. "Explains?"
Ron was glaring at his sister.
"I've seen him with all his girlfriends so far." Ginny smirked.
Hermione was still confused. "I don't understand."
"I was curious why he was so hung up on a girl. Worse than when he had a crush on Fleur."
Was she insinuating…? Hermione wasn't certain if she should feel insulted or flattered.
Ron rolled his eyes. "She's just doing her annoying little sister thing."
"I'm just looking out for you. I was right about Estelle, wasn't I?"
"Estelle?" Hermione asked.
"A witch I had a very brief affair with at Beauxbatons"; Ron said.
"Long enough to meet her family," Ginny added.
"Ah." Hermione shouldn't be jealous of an ex-girlfriend of her boyfriend, but she was. The girl had had a family Ron could meet, contrary to herself.
"Three weeks is not long," Ron said.
"That's half the time we've known each other," Hermione pointed out.
Ginny made a dismissive gesture. "He never talked about her as he talked about you. It was all about her body."
"I was sixteen," Ron said through clenched teeth. "Now, Hermione just survived an ambush by the Dark Lord, or his forces, so could we stop talking about my teenage crushes as if they mattered?"
Hermione nodded. She looked at the witch. "I take it that you're replacing Tonks then?"
Ginny nodded, smiling widely.
Ron groaned.
Hermione knew she was missing something.
London, Diagon Alley, September 19th, 1999, 20.05 hours
Albus Dumbledore smiled despite the tension in the small room. The cause of said tension, Miss Weasley's presence, might not be appreciated that much by the others, but in his opinion, it was a good thing she was here, with them.
She was in danger, that much was obvious, but Albus knew that the idea that she would be safe if she stayed in France was an illusion. Should anything happen to Harry, or to her brother, she'd almost certainly do something quite rash and very dangerous, if not outright suicidal.
On the other hand, her presence at the frontlines, so to speak, might cause Harry to act more rashly to protect her - but at the same time, it might cause him to act with a bit more restraint and caution. The shared experience might also help their relationship, which had been strained lately, as far as he could tell.
Ah, young love! He refrained from sighing. This was another reason for not opposing young Miss Weasley's presence, as futile as it would have been: Albus was quite certain that the prophesied power Tom knew not was love. And there was a lot of love that he could feel in this room. Familial and romantic love.
He cleared his throat. "Now that everyone is here, including me, let us start." Harry and Mister Weasley chuckled at his joke - Albus had been the last to arrive. Miss Hermione didn't, but Miss Weasley snorted. "I've considered the most recent events, and I have come to the conclusion that we cannot further delay our settling of accounts with the Malfoy family. The danger that they will cause further harm to innocents," he nodded at Miss Hermione, who met his eyes with a serious expression, "is simply too big."
Solemn nods answered his statement.
"I've taken steps that will see Lucius dead soon, though I cannot say yet when exactly he will find his end. But once he dies, his son and wife have to be dealt with at once. We must be ready to act at any time, if called upon."
Miss Hermione spoke up: "Draco's task force has been dissolved. I cannot stay that close to him anymore."
Albus suppressed a smile at the relieved expression Mister Weasley showed upon hearing that. "I have endeavoured to have the strike occur in the evening, so at least Narcissa Malfoy should be at her home. And in case Draco himself is not present, we'll be planting evidence that he was behind the assassination of his father."
The young Wand-Leader frowned. "How credible is that evidence?"
"It should be most persuasive. Not too blatant, just enough to raise suspicions." Hints that he had purchased the very poison that would claim Lucius's life. Hints that he had escaped the ambush with the help of the Dark Lord.
Miss Hermione didn't look convinced.
"I do not count on this to convince the Wands that he was the culprit, but I hope it will sow enough doubts so he will not be able to easily take control of the Ministry. Ideally though, he will be at home when we strike."
"What about witnesses?"
"We will be wearing Death Eater masks. It will not fool the Dark Lord, but who will believe him, should he protest his innocence?" Albus asked.
The witch seemed to mull this over. "Some in the Investigative Branch will suspect. That's how we're trained to think."
"As long as there is no proof there should not be any serious repercussions." Nothing that couldn't be handled, at least.
"Once they are dead, the Dark Lord's return will be revealed. This should allow the exiles to return." Albus expected to be welcomed by most Wizards in Britain, as long as he was their best hope against the Dark Lord, and Lucius could be conveniently blamed for any grudges the exiles might carry. The Wands were the wild card, so to speak. But given the numbers they had lost to the Dark Lord, he was optimistic that they would not be eager to fight him and his allies.
"That said, let me now explain the attack plan in detail."
Forest of Bowland, Lancashire, Britain, September 19th, 1999, 23.45 hours
"So, ma petite, how are you feeling about your first mission as a spy in Britain?" Ron asked, leaning against a rock at the edge of a forest.
Ginny frowned at him, then sniffed. "All we did was travel back to France, checked a muggle map, apparated to Denmark, checked the map again, then returned to London and flew for hours into a forest in North England."
"It's called recon," Ron said.
"I'm not complaining."
She wanted to, Ron knew. "You still have to tell mum."
That earned him a glare.
He saw a marker appear over the Forest - his Human-presence-revealing spell had caught Dumbledore. Probably. He drew his wand anyway. The marker dipped below the canopies of the trees, and the professor revealed himself. Next to him, Harry removed his cloak. Ron still didn't know why Harry's inherited cloak was not detected by a spell that revealed Dumbledore, but he wasn't about to question their good fortune.
"We have successfully confirmed the Dark Lord's current location," Dumbledore said.
"And his last anchor," Harry added. "It's a rather old and small cottage - again. I guess he thinks that no one will suspect him and his followers of staying in such humble lodgings." He shrugged.
Harry wasn't looking at Ginny, Ron noticed, and Ginny wasn't looking at him. The two hadn't made up yet, then. He sighed. He could try to make them make up, but both his sister and his friend were sometimes too stubborn for their own good. And he guessed that this was one of those times.
He sighed again. Louder this time. That earned him a glare from both of them, and a chuckle from Dumbledore. He rolled his eyes. "Merlin, it's as bad as when you were dancing around each other for the first time. Haven't you grown up some in the last few years?"
"My brother, l'expert de l'amour," Ginny said, sniffing.
Harry snorted. "He's just grumpy that he has to spend the night on a broom, instead of staying with his girlfriend."
Ron frowned at them. Even with his broom, it'd take hours to return to London. He couldn't complain though - it had been his choice to come along. Not that he had a choice, with Ginny going as well. His mum would kill him if anything happened to his little sister.
The two glanced at each other, smirking.
They still hadn't made up when the group mounted their brooms again, but Ron was quite certain they would, once back in France.
London, St. Mungo's, September 20th, 1999, 10.21 hours
Wand-Leader Hermione tried not to stare at her friend. And failed.
Cleo snorted. "I've already looked into a mirror. The thing was struck silent. Didn't offer me any advice."
Hermione winced.
Cleo touched the knotted blue scar on her face. "That's actually the worst. The rest… well, they're ugly, but they didn't, you know, hit anything important." She stretched her arms over her head. "I can move without problems, I can cast. I can still serve. And some people think scars are sexy."
Hermione nodded. If her friend was being brave, then she could do no less. Even though she suspected that Cleo was just putting up a brave front.
"Benjamin told me about the rest of us. And Draco. Shortest task force in the history of the Corps."
"Yes," Hermione confirmed. And one of the first to fail their objective, as well.
"And now we're back where we belong, and Draco's back to doing what he did before."
"Meaning, nothing," Hermione said.
Cleo looked surprised, then chuckled. "Better than messing up another operation. Though to be fair, one of us should have expected an ambush."
"Not such an extensive one. They did know it was Draco leading us," Hermione said.
"Another traitor then. Did you find them yet?"
Hermione shook her head. She hadn't looked for the traitor yet either.
"Draco's probably been bragging to everyone anyway. Jane would know, but…" Cleo winced.
Hermione nodded.
"They're keeping me another day or two, to make certain that my skin won't suddenly split open again and cover everything in my blood. I guess you're back on duty already?" Cleo looked at Hermione's brown robe.
"Yes. Back to hunting the half-naga." And to planning an assassination.
"Well, I better get some more rest, or I'll be stuck here even longer. That means 'shoo! Get back to work, you lazy witch!'" Cleo grinned at her, but Hermione could see that the other witch was close to breaking down.
She reached out and hugged her friend, ignoring Cleo's weak protests until they stopped and the crying started. Work would wait.
London, Ministry of Magic, September 20th, 1999, 17.45 hours
"Hermione!"
The Wand-Leader had just enough time to brace herself before Luna crashed into her. The blonde witch was sniffling and clung to her.
"I came as soon as I heard you were hurt again, but you were already gone from St. Mungo's!"
"I sent you a note," Hermione pointed out.
"I didn't check my mail after your first note." Luna was still hugging her. "What happened?" she asked Hermione's hair.
"We ran into an ambush in a forest. The half-naga had prepared a trap for Draco. Cursed plants, fire traps, and Fiendfyre. I escaped on my broom, like Draco."
"How did you get hurt? And where?" Luna still wasn't letting go of her.
"Just some smoke poisoning. Easily treated," Hermione tried to reassure her friend.
"That's dangerous! Why didn't you cast a Bubble-Head Charm?"
"There was no time, the Fiendfyre was too close…" Hermione closed her eyes, wincing. She had spent the day writing reports, and had forgotten about not telling Luna everything.
"What? You were so close, you couldn't take the time to cast a single spell?" The blonde witch was trembling in her arms now.
"I survived, I'm OK. They wouldn't have let me out of the hospital otherwise, you know?" Hermione pulled back and smiled at her friend. Who was crying. Damn.
"Please… I'm really fine now. And I'm off the task force. Draco gave up on his plan." She patted Luna's back until the blonde had calmed down. And her thoughts wandered back to last night.
Dumbledore had finished detailing his plans to assassinate Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. They had been quite sound, as far as Hermione had been able to tell. Not too complicated, flexible enough to be adapted on the fly, somewhat, and taking into account several possible problems.
When she had thought he would leave to track down the next hideout of the Dark Lord, he had turned to her instead.
"Miss Hermione, there is one more thing I have to impose on you for. You are friends with Luna Lovegood and her father."
It hadn't been a question. She had nodded anyway, already wondering where he was going with this.
And then he had pulled out a stone from his robes, and conjured a ghost.
She cast several privacy spells, even though they were in her room in the Ministry. Luna noticed, of course - the blonde was far more perceptive than most thought - and tensed up.
Hermione winced and sighed. There was no way out of this - she had made a promise after all, and to a rather vengeful ghost. She took a deep breath and said: "Luna, I met the ghost of your mother."
Luna froze. "What?" she whispered, suddenly looking more frail and vulnerable than Hermione had ever seen her since they had become friends.
"Yes. I met her last night."
"Where? If she was a ghost, then why hasn't she approached me? Why did she leave me and daddy alone?" The blonde witch was crying now.
"She couldn't, Luna. Someone had bound her."
"What?"
Hermione hated herself for doing this to her best friend, but she had to tell her.
"She didn't die in an accident. She was murdered."
Luna stared at her, mouth open, tears running down her cheeks. Her lips moved, but she wasn't saying anything. She blinked. "But… the Minister said it was an accident…" Then her eyes widened.
Hermione nodded.
Hermione had seen Luna angry a few times, but she had never seen her furious. Until now.
"I'm going to kill him."