A/N I have no excuses. I have had this and the next chapter done for ages but I just haven't gotten around to publishing. I'd think about it and then never get around to it. I have finally gotten back to actually writing it after 20k of a new, dramione fic. So, I will probably post the next one in a day or two. Hopefully. Like I keep saying, I have the full thing in my head more or less, I just need to get to writing. But, 4 kids, pregnant again, so sick, 4H projects blah blah blah. Promise I'll never abandon a story.

Chapter 33

Hermione chewed at her lip as she stared down at the relatively harmless looking, green wand-length, rod. According to Darby and confirmed by Ambrosi's testing, it was extremely dangerous. If not for the spells currently containing the potent radiation, they would all be dead in less than a month. And that was without any kind of dispersal.

Exercising an abundance of caution, they had set up their mini nuclear facility in a familiar forest in the tent she had brought from the future. They had erected wards similar to those at Gideon and Fabian's townhouse, and muggle repelling charms to keep away errant hikers. The charms surrounding the radioactive rod were all Ambrosi's.

Besides the containment spells, Ambrosi had handed them each radiation repelling charmed medallions. More effective and less cumbersome than a muggle lead vest. He had insisted they were more a precaution after their containment warding. But the glance he'd leveled at her stomach and the muttered, "can no fix everything with magic," had left her feeling on edge.

She almost longed for the reassuring heaviness of the x-ray vests her parents had always used.

"What you need is, dispersal method." He held up the Geiger counter again, showing the staggeringly high number. 5,000 roentgens. "This is having enough ambient radiation, to kill very quickly. Dispersal radically increases the radiation dose. Kill faster."

Swallowing thickly, Hermione voiced a new concern. "I'll admit that I didn't know it took so much to kill so fast. You're sure we'll be able to contain and dispose of all of it afterwards?"

The disdainful look he shot her almost made her flinch. "Yuri tell you to trust Ambrosi, no?" Ambrosi gestured at the contained material. "I will help, as I said. I will take it back with me and dump where Soviets dump. It is not perfect, but it will make no difference."

He was right. It was far from perfect. Hermione didn't feel right about dumping such toxic radioactive waste, but Ambrosi had assured her that it was practically Soviet protocol. She could not suppress the shudder. It was no wonder, with such poor safety regulations, that they had had such a horrible catastrophe at Chernobyl.

From the other side of the containment spell, Fabian spoke next. "You're absolutely certain that he won't be able to save himself?"

This time, Ambrosi looked pensive, setting down the Geiger counter and sliding his hands beneath his robes and into his pockets. "He will be too sick to do anything but die slowly. His magic will not work right. The radiation poisons that as well, you see." He shook his head. "There are few worse ways to die that I know."

Silence fell as they all considered that, Gideon fingering the medallion he wore around his neck. Not for the first time, Hermione wondered if they were doing the right thing. She trusted Yuri and both he and Ambrosi were confident in their spells. They weren't using a bomb. It wasn't going to irradiate the entire country. Just the Riddle estate. But still. The niggling feeling that something could go horrifically wrong wouldn't leave her alone.

"Alright." As usual, it was George that saved them from their thoughts. "A dispersal method. Bombs are out, so what else will do the trick without taking out half the city?"

"This I have been thinking about much since Yuri contacted me." Ambrosi reached into his leather briefcase, a slightly manic gleam in his eyes, pulling out a heavily annotated sheaf of parchment that he handed to Hermione.

Fabian leaned over to peer eagerly at the rune-filled parchments as she read. It was as complex as anything else she had seen from the foreign wizards. Arithmantic layering, expulsive charms, directional limiters.

Frowning, Hermione reassessed the magical scientist through narrowed eyes. "You only started this when Yuri contacted you?"

"Ah…" He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "No. This has been, how you say… 'pet project' for some time. Yuri has refused to let me test with uranium until now."

"So," Hermione's eyes drifted back to the contained material and handed the notes to Fabian, crossing her arms. "Will it work? Is it safe?"

Another shrug. "I have only tested with non-radioactive materials, but with much success. I am confident. As for safety…" He gestured at the visible containment charm. "Well we will be using a similar containment spell as this around the detonation site."

Not at all reassured, Hermione ran a hand through her hair and paced around the room, stopping in front of George. Their eyes met, the worry she felt reflected in his.

"Was this a mistake?" she whispered as he reached for her. "Was this an insane idea?"

His answering sigh was almost a laugh. "Well if it is a mistake, it was my idea. And it's definitely insane. There's no question there." This time he did laugh softly, and she did as well. "Look Hermione," he tucked a curl behind her ear as they sobered. "No matter what we do here, it's going to be dangerous. Any of us could die. Personally, I think I'd prefer an Avada to this radiation sickness."

He shuddered and Hermione had to agree. Everything she knew about it almost made her feel pity for any Death Eaters that would be caught in the radiation.

"But if this goes right, only Death Eaters and their Dark Lord will die. No muggles, no Order members…" Cupping her face, he traced his thumb across her cheek, eliciting a contented sigh. "We'll be able to get back to living our lives. See your parents again, bring my family home… maybe work on growing our own?"

She laughed quietly again. "You don't think it would be weird? Having our own children at Hogwarts with our younger selves?"

He scrunched up his face in the facsimile of deep thought. "Hmm… it will definitely be weird. We could always send them to Beauxbatons. We'll have a French residence after all."

Hermione smiled and glanced back over her shoulder. Fabian was bent over the notes beside their nuclear expert, his twin watching the containment spell with evident apprehension. They had extremely dangerous radioactive material in the middle of their tent. At that moment, imagining their life after the war felt ridiculous.

But for just a moment, she indulged anyway.

"No, I think I want our children to go to Hogwarts, like we did." She pulled a face. "As long as we can get rid of Dumbledore first."

George scoffed. "Obviously." Cocking his head to the side, he searched her face and smiled. "Now, my brilliant witch, get back over there and make sure my uncle and this overly eager mad scientist don't kill us all."

Feeling a sense of calm determination settle over her, Hermione smiled too. "I'll do my best."

GH

The message on his galleon had instructed him to make himself available to receive a Patronus. Severus had been attending a small gathering at Malfoy manor when the coin had burned. Believing himself unobserved, he discreetly slid the coin from his pocket, read the message and replaced it.

Leaving the drawing room under the ostensible excuse to visit the loo, he slipped into an empty room on the other end of the hall. Sending off a quick reply, he waited only moments before one of the Prewett twins Patronus, a pale wildcat bounded, out from the fireplace.

"We've finished our project. Come to the forest of Dean. South of Speech House road, west of Cannop. We will find you from there."

It took several deep breaths to quell the anxiety that flared. He hadn't been completely on board with the nuclear weapon plan despite seeing its draws. Growing up in the muggle world as he had, information about the red scare and nuclear war had penetrated his consciousness. Using that kind of technology in London made him reasonably nervous.

Straightening, he left the room and made his way back to the drawing room to make his excuses. Uncharacteristically distracted, he did not notice the blonde standing in the shadows behind one of the many Romanesque statues that lined the hall. He did not see the rapid calculation nor the silent decision made, that would change the fate of a family.

The weather was, mercifully, decent. Traipsing through the woods was not something Severus had ever enjoyed. Doing so with a radioactive death device at the end was even less appealing.

A snap echoed off the trees around him and he was immediately alert, wand at the ready. For several seconds, nothing happened. Birdsong and the chirp of summer insects filled the air as he scanned the trees around him. Nothing.

He had just begun to relax when the tall, ginger form of George Prewett stepped out from nowhere. Shocked quite badly, Severus only just stopped himself from shouting a hex.

"Oi! Watch it, Snape! It's me."

Tsk-ing in annoyance, Severus slid his wand back into its holster. "You shouldn't sneak up on a Death Eater."

George shrugged. "Sorry, mate. You're on the edge of our wards." He gestured vaguely behind himself. "We set up a rather large parameter just to be safe. Suppose I should have called out."

Severus gave a dubious look around before sighing. "Indeed. I'll follow you then."

The older man nodded and turned, heading back in the direction he'd appeared from. Once they had passed through the wards, he turned to Severus again. "It's about two miles to the tent. We could walk or I could apparate us. Have a preference?"

Sneering, Severus held out his arm. "As I've neglected to bring my walking boots…"

With an irritating chuckle, George apparated them. They landed outside a tent in a small clearing. As he stepped towards the entrance, the other man held up a hand to stop him.

"Just a moment… Ambrosi? We're back."

After a few seconds of muffled sound, a thin, bespectacled man threw back the flap and thrust his hand toward Severus. A medallion dangled from the outstretched appendage, swinging back and forth as he shook it impatiently.

"Here, here. You must wear this inside. Ichkaret."

George answered Snape's questioning glance with a nod and puffed out a relieved breath as he dutifully draped the medallion around his neck.

Satisfied, Ambrosi held open the tent flap and beckoned them inside. "Now, Mrs. Prewett tells me is you who will handle the weapon, yes?" At Severus's nod, he continued. "This medallion is spelled with very strong personal anti-radiation charm. For now, it is merely precaution."

He waved his wand and extremely complex runes appeared in a glowing dome around a table at the center of the room. "We have more wards surrounding it for now."

They approached the warded table. A slender, green rod levitated just off the table.

"You must keep it on when using the weapon. You will be inside these larger wards when you use and otherwise unprotected."

Severus swallowed thickly. "How radioactive is it? Will it take long to kill?"

"Hmm…" Ambrosi shrugged. "Simply standing this close, without the warding, we would be dead in under three weeks. With dispersal? Inside a week."

"A week? Won't that give him time to retaliate?"

The foreign wizard pursed his lips for a moment and shook his head. "No. Anyone affected will be unable to do more than lay in a pool of their own filth and fluids almost at once. Their magic will wither as well. You will need to get out as soon as possible. This charm will protect you but only so long."

A shiver ran up Severus's spine. Certainly, he could brew a potion just as deadly, even more so in fact. But that was magic. He could control his potions and spells. He understood magic. There was something distinctly unsettling about the idea of so dangerous a naturally occurring substance, a muggle weapon. A weapon that would not be stopped by any magic known to English wizards outside of this tent.

"So…" He looked over to where George had sat, his witch looking half asleep in his lap—a testament to how hard they had been working, no doubt. "What exactly is our plan?"