Chapter 56: Friday, November 28, 1980 cont'd
"The suspicious mind believes more than it doubts. It believes in a formidable and ineradicable evil lurking in every person."
-Eric Hoffer
Hermione held her breath, waiting for the light to go out and the Dementors to rear up at them again. She felt her heart rate speed up as adrenaline began coursing through her veins and she watched with wide-eyed curiosity as the Dementors stayed in place. The domes were acting as some sort of conductor for the Patronus, holding it's silvery mist steady through rows and rows of imprisoned muggleborns-turned-Dementor.
"We need to go," Sirius said.
"The domes!" Hermione said, pointing to them. "We need to see how they were made! If we can figure that out it could-
"Hermione, we don't have time! They're coming! We need to get out of here now!"
Sirius' head was tilted up, ear pointing toward the ceiling as he listened. Hermione mused that Sirius must have some heightened abilities because of his animagus form being a dog. It certainly explained what seemed to be his impeccable hearing.
"I can hear them talking, they've figured out someone's infiltrated. We need to get out."
"Right," Hermione said, nodding. "The only way out is the way we came in, we can use the cloak!"
Sirius gave a stiff nod, his hand reaching into his robes to pull out the invisibility cloak. He grabbed Hermione's arm and yanked her under the cloak, holding her close to him as they snuck back into the room where they had found Caradoc Dearborn. Hermione's heart sank in her chest as a large man with incredibly broad shoulders stepped into the room, walking swiftly toward them. Behind him, a younger woman who seemed to be slightly frumpy, with dark hair and beady eyes.
"Alecto," the man said. "Our office has been broken into and the girl at the desk tells me we were to have an inspection today. It is your job to stay in this office at all times. I was certain I had been clear-
"I'm sorry, sir." Alecto apologized. "I stepped away to use the loo and-
"Do not interrupt me, girl! I don't give a shit if you soil your pants next time. You will not leave your post. You're lucky i don't take you back to the Dark Lord and let him handle you. Better yet, make you into one of Dolohov's creatures."
A look of pure horror crossed the woman's face, "No sir, please. It won't happen again."
"Let's see to it that it doesn't," the man said, pointing his wand at her. "Crucio."
Hermione swallowed hard as she watched the young Alecto Carrow drop to the ground, screaming in agony. She writhed and convulsed repeatedly, her back twisted at an unnatural angle as she shrieked.
"Fucking pathetic," the man said, spatting on the floor next to Alecto. He holstered his wand and moved past her, giving her a rough kick as he stepped over her body, "No one saw him come out of here. Which means if he's not in here, then the creatures have gotten to him."
Alecto slowly peeled herself up from the ground, retching violently as her body tremored with aftershocks of the torture curse. She blinked heavily several times before carefully walking toward the man and following him into the backroom. Hermione felt the air she didn't realize she had been holding, leave her lungs in a long exhale.
"Fucking pleasant bunch they are," Sirius muttered.
Hermione and Sirius moved swiftly through the room and past the boundary of magic, hiding the actual contents of the office behind them. With quick steps, they tore out of the department and picked up speed once they got to the lifts. When they entered, Hermione gripped the railing as the box dropped, sending her stomach to the floor as it raced toward the Atrium.
"What do I do about these robes and badge?" Sirius asked, "Garrick said that French bloke would need the badge later tonight."
"Leave them in the lift," Hermione said. "Someone will find them and turn them in."
Sirius nodded, pulling the invisibility cloak off of them and unfastening the ruby robes. He bundled them up and tossed them into the corner of the lift before ducking back under the cloak. The doors clanged open to the Atrium and Sirius grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her through toward the exit that would dump them out on the street they had come in at. They weaved between the few people who were now present, no where near the crowded area Hermione remembered from previous visits, and she supposed she was thankful for that.
When they got outside, Hermione pulled the cloak off of them and Sirius let out a loud yell of excitement.
"We did it! Can you believe we got in and out without fucking anything up?!" He laughed, digging into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out a cigarette. He lit it with the tip of his wand and pulled Hermione into his side for a quick hug.
"We should keep moving," Hermione said.
Sirius nodded, taking another long drag from his cigarette and let Hermione pull him through the streets of Muggle London.
They walked nearly forty minutes, taking different turns here and there, until Hermione was confident they had gotten far enough away from the Ministry that the chances of anyone tracking them were slim to none. She finally stopped, pointing out a bench to take a small rest before they headed back to Dorcas' to reveal what they had found. Hermione was in a daze—never had such a quickly plotted plan work out so flawlessly for her. The only hiccough being that it was Sirius' face that had been seen instead of her own, which after a quick set of facial transfigurations and a glamour or two, the average witch or wizard would have no idea they were talking to the banished Black Heir.
"That was almost too easy!" Sirius said, falling in the seat next to her.
"It really was," Hermione said. "Suspiciously easy."
"Let's not be negative about it, kitten. Let's just enjoy our win, yeah? I was only thirty percent sure we weren't going to be killed today, so I'm gonna ride this one out."
Hermione let out a short laugh, "We did do pretty amazing."
"You reckon those things are going to be set loose?" Sirius asked, "It looked like they're collecting them for some reason."
"I'd imagine they're waiting for the right time, perhaps trying to build up an army of them."
Sirius seemed to consider that for a moment before his head bobbed in agreement, "You're probably right. I don't fancy that though. That was the worst feeling I think I've ever experienced, like I'd never be happy again. My chest felt hollow… Did you feel that too?"
"Yeah," Hermione said, a deep frown carving into her features.
Silence settled over them for several minutes. Hermione's head found its way to her hands as she took slow breaths. The image of Caradoc writhing in pain, moaning in agony seared into her mind. The freezing cold, leathery, broken skin of the Dementor's face still burning against her fingertips. The panic was beginning to settle into her again, reminding her of the very limited time she had left if she didn't find answers soon.
And then there was the issue of her magic. She had been unable to produce a corporeal patronus, or even a wisp of one, for the first time since learning to cast it. She had had a hard few years, that was certainly true. Had seen her fair share of terrible things, had memories that would haunt most. But Hermione had never struggled to find the light in her darkness before, never had she been unable to focus on the good she had, no matter how small that seemed. And today, she faltered. Not only with a patronus but a simple lumos had been impossible to conjure in her moment of fear. She had never known fear to shake her magical ability like that, it didn't make any sense.
"It's you, isn't it?"
Hermione looked up from her hands, a perplexed look on her face at Sirius' quiet question. "What?"
"You," he repeated. "You're the one you know that was cursed. It's not some friend or relative. It's you. That's why you've been chasing the Dementors as often as you can, why you keep talking about them in meetings..."
"What makes you think that?" Hermione asked, her mouth suddenly dry. "I talk about them in meetings because—
"It's hardly the most pressing issue when we have our own people dropping like flies, but you bring it up nearly every meeting. And I saw the way you looked at Doc, and the way you looked at that Dementor, like you couldn't look away. It's you."
It wasn't a question this time, and Hermione sighed. She was so tired of hiding it, of not being able to tell anyone about how terrified she was. But she couldn't tell Remus, she knew if she did he would be beside himself, putting himself into direct harm if it meant there was a sliver of a chance she'd come out of it okay. And James and Lily both had each other and Harry to worry about.
She scrubbed her face with her hands, there was no use denying it. "Yes," she whispered. "It's me."
Sirius grabbed Hermione's hand, his face pinched up in a pitying look, "You haven't told anyone?"
"No," she said. "And you can't either. Sirius, you can not tell Remus."
"But he should-
"He'll get himself killed, and you know it." Hermione said, looking at him, pleading. "Please, you can't tell him. You can't tell anyone. I need to be able to do the things I have to do without people thinking I'm going to turn into a monster at any given second."
"When?" Sirius asked, "Do you know when it's supposed to happen?"
Hermione nodded, "I did some calculations before I came here. If my math is right I would have twenty six months before I transform. So, the end of November 1981."
"You have a year left here?" He asked, frowning.
"Less than that," Hermione said. "I have to go back to my own time on or before Halloween."
Sirius nodded, "I won't tell anyone. But you should tell Remus, it isn't right to keep something like this from him."
"I want a wand oath. A real promise, swear on your magic."
Sirius casted Hermione a sad look before nodding his head, holding out his wand. They touched their wands together and Hermione voiced the promise, "You swear not to tell anyone that I am infected with this curse. You will keep this information between you and I and you will not tell anyone."
"I swear on my magic," Sirius said.
The tips of their wands glowed gold for a moment before fading away.
The next day was spent with the Order as Sirius and Hermione went over their findings at the Ministry. They relayed every single detail they could recall and even got into a discussion about the use of the Patronus against the Dementors. Sirius had lied, saying that he had conjured one to send for help before realizing that it worked to keep the creatures at bay.
Everyone seemed to be particularly disturbed to find out that Caradoc Dearborn had been captured and cursed. Andromeda and Ted had volunteered to tell his family, apparently their daughters were friends and Andromeda thought his wife may take the news better from a familiar face after all that she had been through in the last year and a half since Caradoc disappeared.
On top of everything that had been confirmed from Hermione and Sirius, it seemed as if the Death Eaters were making even bolder moves now. There had been several explosions and attacks on different parts of the Muggle world that could be explained away as natural gas leaks and traffic accidents, but it was made blindingly obvious to anyone who was magical that these acts were acts of terrorism onto an unsuspecting people who had no way of defending themselves against wizards and witches who fought to bring their kind to an end.
Peter was present at this meeting, having just gotten back from an assignment of his own, in which he reported there was Death Eater movement going further North and East and he was gaining command of followers from Russia and Bulgaria. Apparently there was an underground following for Grindelwald that had never quite died out when Dumbledore had defeated him. This group decided that aligning themselves with Voldemort best suited the ideals that had been presented by Grindelwald decades ago and had agreed to contact any other remaining members of this movement.
After the meeting ended, Hermione said her goodbyes and walked outside to apparate home, when Peter caught up with her. "Hey, Hermione!" He said, "Hey, wait!"
Hermione stopped, turning to look up at Peter. While he was a bit taller than her, he was shorter than both James and Sirius and certainly very short compared to Remus' towering frame. Still, with Hermione barely scraping five feet four inches, she turned her eyes up to his face. "Hey, Peter. Is something wrong?"
"Not wrong, really, no." He said, "I just wondered if you wanted some company, with Remus gone and Sirius going back to Prongs' to tell him about the meeting…"
"Oh," Hermione said. She considered him for a moment, the slight uneasiness she always felt around him swimming in her gut. She stamped it down and gave a small shrug, "Sure, Peter. I would love some company."
He gave her a smile, "Wicked. Meet you there."
And with a soft pop, he disapparated, Hermione following right behind him.
When Hermione landed just outside her front door, Peter was standing on the step waiting for her before entering. She was thankful he waited, even though her wards would allow him to pass. She pushed open the door and stepped aside, letting Peter cross through the threshold before she closed it and removed her trainers and cloak. They moved into the kitchen where Hermione made tea and pulled out the tin of biscuits Remus had made for her before he left.
Hermione took her usual spot by the window and Peter sat in the chair across from her, thanking her for the tea and biscuits. They ate and sipped quietly until Peter drained his mug and finally spoke, "It's strange when Remus isn't around, isn't it?"
Hermione gave a small shrug, "He's been going on more and more assignments lately, always gone for at least a week or two at a time."
"What do they have him doing?" Peter asked, "It all seems rather hushed."
Hermione regarded him for a minute. Peter didn't know where Remus was being sent? Surely he must have known that he was being sent out on assignments to do with the werewolves, anyone who knew that Remus was afflicted had been able to put two and two together. Unless, of course, he knew and just didn't know the details? Either way, Hermione thought it best not to answer the question directly. If Peter was supposed to know, he would know.
"I'm not sure where they're sending him off to," Hermione answered.
"James had said they wanted him to secure some allies among other werewolves. Just seems odd to be gone for weeks when the moon is only one day of the month," Peter pressed on.
Something about the conversation wasn't sitting right with Hermione. She hadn't had any bad experiences with Peter, and the last time she had an actual conversation with him, she had actually enjoyed the talk. But still, he left a bitter taste in her mouth and she didn't like the questions he was asking.
"Yes well, I assume in order to make some advances, it requires more than just a night of running amongst fellow werewolves," Hermione said, trying to keep her tone polite.
"Yeah, I guess you're probably right. Hard to have a conversation when you turn into a lunatic the second the moon hits you," Peter chuckled. "At any rate, I'm sure he's fine."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, she really didn't like the way this conversation was going. While Peter's tone remained polite and conversational, there was an edge to his voice when he talked about Remus. She didn't know what he was suggesting, but whatever it was, it felt off.
"How long are you back for, this time?" Hermione asked, attempting to change the subject.
"Oh, I don't really know. Until Dumbledore asks me to go out again, I reckon."
"You seem to be on a lot of assignments. You're hardly ever around!"
Peter chuckled, taking a bite of another biscuit. "Yeah. I like to keep busy. Not the best dueler, as I'm sure you know, but I'm good at hiding and watching."
For some reason Hermione couldn't place, she had the strangest flash in her memory of Ron's pet rat, Scabbers and her fat, orange half-kneazle Crookshanks. For the life of her, she couldn't remember what had happened to the rodent. Confused, she gave her head a small shake, trying to clear her mind of the bizarre memory. Wondering why her mind would supply such a trivial bit of information to her.
"I was thinking," Peter said, interrupting her strange train of thought. "That the domes you spoke about at the Ministry probably hold some sort of duplicating and stasis charm."
Hermione nodded, "That was my best guess as well. Though I couldn't get close enough to check. It's just bizarre they would go through the trouble of doing something like that."
"Is it?"
"I think so, yes." Hermione said, "What would be the point?"
"Well, marked Death Eaters can't produce a corporeal patronus," Peter said. "The mark feeds them with Dark Magic. The Patronus is Light magic specific, so they would need to find someone who can cast it, and then they trap it there until it burns up."
Hermione considered this for a moment, "That's… That's actually quite genius."
Peter nodded, "Yeah, I thought so, too."
They continued to exchange a bit of theory about the Dementors and with every line that Peter spoke, every word that left his lips, Hermione grew more and more suspicious of him. He seemed to know details of things that she couldn't remember telling the Order during the meeting. She supposed that perhaps Sirius had told him things before hand or last night, but sincerely doubted it. She hoped it was just a general unease from not really knowing him as well as she knew the others, but try as she might, she couldn't shake the feeling that something about Peter Pettigrew was peculiar.
I thought so, too.
The words echoed in her mind, well into the night after Peter had gone home and she had curled into her bed, clutching a pillow that still smelled of Remus' cologne and shampoo.
I thought so, too.
Past tense. Meaning he had thought about this before… when? During the meeting as they talked briefly about their finding? No. That sentence implied he had talked theory, he had thought in depth about the Death Eaters and their inability to cast a Patronus.
As she drifted off into sleep, the smell of spiced citrus, parchment and earth soothing her shaken soul, Hermione couldn't help the unsettled feeling that consumed her mind and the thoughts of a pet rat that scurried with it.
.
.
a/n: Merry Christmas Eve (if you celebrate Christmas, if not- Happy Holidays!) I hope you enjoy this chapter while you're having holiday fun and enjoying (socially distanced) time with loved ones. I, myself, will be staying home and hanging out with my husband and my doggo.
Anyway, reviews make excellent Christmas presents... just saying ;)
xo
