Archive of Our Own ^beta

May 24, 2008

Offices of the Magical Law Enforcement

British Ministry of Magic

Harry Potter was sitting in his office in the MLE, working on some paperwork for the recent arrests that had been made in the case of the potions smuggling ring that he and his team had been investigating. There were several high-profile people associated with the smugglers, so there was a lot of pressure on him to do everything right. The slightest mistake in the paperwork could result in the perpetrators using it to their advantage and escape justice, so he wasn't about to take any chances. He sat hunched over on his desk, his spectacled eyes scanning the paper in front of him.

As Harry was re-checking the report on the suspicious activities going on in the warehouse, suddenly, there was an urgent knock on the door to his office. He magically unlocked the door and allowed the person to enter. In walked a small, mousy looking woman that he recognized as the assistant to Hermione Granger, the head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and one of his best friends. Clara, the assistant, looked frazzled and bore a worried expression on her face.

"Uhh... Mr. Potter Sir... S-sorry to disturb you," the young assistant began and then stopped suddenly, waiting to gauge his reaction.

Harry was often exasperated at the fear, reverence and hero-worship people still had for him. He wished people would just stop and treat him like a real human being and not as a larger-than-life persona.

"It's okay Clara. Please, how can I help you?" he asked the poor woman.

"Sir... Hermione, uh I mean Ms. Granger is m-missing," she let out with difficulty and Harry could see the genuine discomfort on her face.

Instantly, he was alert.

"Missing? What do you mean Hermione's missing? Tell me everything," he barked at the woman who shrunk back from him. He did feel a little bad, but honestly with what she had told him, it was obvious he would react that way.

"She went to lunch with Mr. Weasley, and she was supposed to be back by one —," Harry checked his watch and saw that it was already past five thirty. "— but when she did not return and I needed her to sign some papers urgently, I decided to send a patronus to her at the cafe. My patronus came back to me instead of dissipating as she wasn't there. So I asked around Mr. Weasley's department thinking that maybe they're spending some together there. He hasn't returned back either. So I floo-called their home, and they aren't there. I've checked everywhere. They're not at Mr. Weasley's parents' home, at Ms. Granger's parents or anywhere that they usually would be," she finished.

Harry listened carefully and then responded, "But that doesn't mean that Hermione and Ron are missing Clara. It's been only a few hours. They could be busy with something urgent." Although he himself was having a hard time guessing what could be so important that both of them had decided to disappear without informing anyone.

"That's what I thought as well Sir. But the papers that I needed her to sign were related to to the Bill of Mandatory Pre-school Magical Education for Muggle-borns. You know how that's Ms. Granger's passion project," Harry nodded, he knew all about Hermione's efforts for that bill. She had poured her blood, sweat and tears in that project. "Well since I had to submit the paperwork by half past three, and there was still no sign of Ms. Granger, I decided to call her muggle cell phone. She... she didn't answer her phone," she looked at him in alarm as she said this.

Now Harry shared her concern. Hermione had always drilled one thing in everyone's brain — that if they ever needed her urgently, and all means of magical communication had failed to get her attention, then they should call her on her muggle cell phone. Clara being Hermione's assistant had received a cell phone. It was an understood fact that if Hermione was all right then she would answer her phone, no matter what she was doing, as she understood it would be a matter of utmost emergency. If something had happened to make her not answer it, then it had to be serious.

"Did Ron answer his?" Harry asked Clara. He knew Hermione had bought her husband a cell phone as well and while Ron was not as taken with the muggle invention as she was, he knew well enough to answer it if someone called.

Clara shook her head. "I didn't have his number, so I couldn't call him."

Harry immediately pulled out his own cell phone and tried calling both of his friends. Neither of them answered and his concern skyrocketed. What had happened to both of them to cause a complete radio silence on their end?

He composed himself as best as he could and instructed Clara to go back to her home and he would look for his friends. She was reluctant and asked if he needed her help in finding her boss. He gently denied her and repeated his instruction for her to go back home. As soon as she left, he immediately left his office as well and made his way to Ron's department. When he enquired about the ginger, he found the same information. Ron had went on lunch with his wife and had never returned. When he was asked the inevitable question if there was anything wrong, he reassured everyone and just asked them to inform him if either Ron or Hermione showed up.

Now Harry was becoming nervous about the whereabouts of his friends. While the war was long over, there was no shortage of bad people who wanted to hurt his family and friends. There were also many people who were jealous and hateful of the success he and his friends had found.

He went to Hermione's office and magically unlocked it, to inspect for any sign that might cue him to her whereabouts. He found the office meticulous and clean, not a paper out of place. He went through her files to see if anything struck out to him as odd. But everything was in order and he didn't find anything suspicious. He checked for signs of any break-in and didn't find anything. He locked it again and made his way out.

Next, he went to Ron's office, which was a polar opposite to his wife's. His office was messy, with papers shoved in every nook and cranny. Things were simply thrown wherever there was a little place for them. Harry repeated the same inspection and again emerged empty-handed.

Feeling out of his element, he decided to seek help. He went to his supervisor and the head of MLE, Robards. He told the older man everything and sought his guidance on how to proceed. When Robards suggested to wait for a few more hours, Harry damn near lost his mind. He had been steadily growing more and more anxious and his inability to do anything was weighing heavily on his mind. So when his supervisor told him to wait, he was not happy. Harry told Robards that there was no way he would just sit idly by when his friends could be in danger. His boss reluctantly told Harry to go to the offices of the Employee Data and Background, a department which was under the DMLE, and hence under Robards' jurisdiction. It was a fairly new department which was established after the Second Wizarding War. During Lord Voldemort's second uprising, the biggest flaw which had been identified was the infiltration of the Ministry by death eaters. In order to curb anything similar in the future, a department was set up which had records of all the employees under the Ministry. These were detailed records of all the things relevant to an employee's life, one of which was their magical signature. Robards told Harry to go to the office and ask the officers to put a locator spell on both Hermione and Ron's magical signature. This way, they would know where the pair were.

Harry immediately left Robards' office and then went to the offices of the EDB in a full sprint. He quickly relayed his request to the officers and told them he had the head of DMLE's permission and approval. He watched in mounting excitement as an older official, Newman, waved his wand over a large map of wizarding Britain. He focused first on Ron's magical signature and then on Hermione's. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the greying wizard let out a sigh and looked at Harry apologetically. Harry did not like that look at all.

"I'm sorry Auror Potter. I'm unable to locate Mr. Weasley's and Ms. Granger's signatures. Wherever they are presently, it appears that place has been protected by wards. That's why our spells are unable to reach them."

Fuck!

Harry wanted to scream at the wizard, but he didn't because it wasn't his fault.

"Well can you give me a general idea of their location? Just the area or city they're in? Please, it's a matter of urgency," he requested to the other wizard.

The official nodded somewhat solemnly and then began the process again. After another 20 or so minutes, the older wizard looked up from the map once more. This time, Harry noted that a few areas in the map were glowing golden. Somewhere the glow was much stronger than the other areas.

"All these areas that you see glowing are the locations where your friends' magical trace was left. As you can see, in some areas the glow is much brighter, these are the areas where they spent maximum time."

Harry nodded, it made sense to him. He noticed that the outskirts of London glowed the brightest, as that's where Ron and Hermione's flat was located.

The other wizard continued, "This area," he pointed to a point in the map which glowed with a slightly reddish hue, "is most likely the area where they last used their magic. That's where their signatures are the freshest. Again, I can't pinpoint the exact location, but they were most likely in the general area of Manchester at some point of time today."

Harry nodded again, this at least gave him a lead. He profusely thanked the officials and asked them to keep an eye on the map and let him know if they perform the spell again and get a different result.

He left the department of EDB and went to his office once more. He contemplated for a long time on what to do, and in the end got only one answer – he needed help. He was in way over his head and it would be better to take help from his friends and family. Decision made, he apparated to the Burrow.

x-----x

Telling his in-laws that one of their son and daughter-in-law was missing was not a happy experience at all. The entire family blew up at him, specially his wife – Ginny. Everyone reprimanded him for not telling them sooner, but eventually everyone ceased their verbal bashing of him to focus on the task at hand – getting Ron and Hermione safely back home. When Mrs. Weasley checked her family clock, she noticed that the hands with Ron and Hermione's (whose name had been added when she got married to Ron) name were pointing towards 'Lost'. Everyone became aware of the potential danger that the duo could be in, so they rallied behind Harry and offered their help. Harry told them what he had learned at the department of EDB. Everyone agreed that Manchester would probably be best place to start their search. They would go out to different locations and launch their search, and if needed, rescue.

The most glaring problem facing them was that Manchester was a big area, and without having an idea of where to begin, they would simply be wasting time going from one useless location to the other. Harry also remembered the words of the EDB official who had remarked that the reason they were unable to locate either Ron or Hermione's signature could be because they were in a place which was warded. Which left a very real possibility that both of his best friends had been taken by someone, someone who potentially meant them harm.

Harry and the rest of the family brainstormed ideas on where to look for their loved ones, but each of them came empty handed on ideas on how to locate the lost duo. Every spell they cast was stumped by the potential wards. Even George, who was the expert in ingenious inventions which involved complex magic was unable to do figure out any way to locate their family.

Suddenly, Ginny sprang up from the chair she had been sitting on. "Harry, do have any idea if either Ron or Hermione have their cell phones with them?"

"I think so Ginny. At least Hermione would have hers, you know how she has told everyone that she'll answer it no matter what. But she's not answering it, that's how I know she's not okay," he told his wife with a tired frown on his face.

"Yes, I know that. But didn't Hermione once say that those cell phones can be tracked? That's how she had figured out Ron was going to surprise her by coming to their flat early? Do you remember?" she asked him a little desperately.

"Yes! I remember that. Hermione had told me about the GPS in muggle cell phones. That's brilliant Ginny!" Harry remarked in joy, and mounting hope. Ginny smiled at him, though it was still marred by worry.

"That's great. But how can we track it?" Bill cut in their conversation.

"Oh well, I... I don't really know that," Harry stammered, embarrassed at his incompetence and his lack of knowledge about some basic muggle concepts. While the rest of his family had the excuse of being purebloods, he had been raised a muggle for the first eleven years of his life, but had lost interest in all things muggle once he entered the wizarding world. Harry vowed to expand his knowledge on muggle technology once Hermione and Ron were safely back with them.

"Oh!" Ginny's face fell.

"Is there anyone else who might know about it?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Wait! Dean might know. I've seen him with a muggle phone many times," George now chimed in. Dean Thomas had been working in the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with George since the War had ended, and the two had become very close friends, almost like brothers, especially since George missed his twin so badly.

"Call him here," Bill commanded and George nodded, already leaving the room to floo-call his friend.

About twenty minutes later, George and Dean Thomas stood at the foyer of the Burrow, and George quickly ushered Dean inside the living room where the rest of the family had been gathered. George and Harry quickly filled in Dean about what had happened and asked him if he could track either Hermione or Ron's phone. Dean said that he could, but he would need to call their network provider for a theft alert and have a computer with him. So he suggested going to his parents' house in muggle Lancashire, as the magic surrounding the Burrow would interfere with muggle technology.

It was decided then that Harry, George, Bill and Ginny would accompany Dean to his parents' house while the rest stay at the ancient house, looking for other ways to find Ron and Hermione.

After another tense half an hour, Dean finally had success. He told everyone that Hermione's phone appeared to be somewhere around the Etihad Stadium⁩ in muggle Manchester.

As soon as he heard it, Harry was out of his seat. He grabbed hold of Dean's laptop and saw where the screen showed a little red pop up indicating Hermione's location, or at least the location of her phone.

"Let's go," he commanded to no one in particular, but everyone responded nonetheless.

⁦"Harry wait! Let's think this through. We can't just rush in there. We don't know what's waiting for us," Ginny tried to reason with her husband. Harry had always been impulsive, specially when the safety of his loved ones was involved.

"That's precisely why we need to hurry. Ron and Hermione could be in danger. We need to find them as soon as we can," he argued.

"I know that, but rushing in there isn't going to help anyone. What if we get hurt? We would be of no help to them then," Ginny threw back at him.

Before Harry could argue further, Bill cut in. "What we can do is to check out the place where Hermione's phone is, and then plan from there. If the situation looks safe enough, then we can just simply get them and take them back home, but if it's anything dangerous, then we inform the Ministry and get the aurors," he looked at everyone and saw that most of them seem willing, Harry a bit reluctantly.

"Fine, let me just quickly pop in at home to tell everyone," Ginny told her brothers while simultaneously silently pleading them to hold off her husband till her return.

Ginny swiftly apparated away which left the four men in Dean's childhood house. Dean, George and Bill could see the tension in Harry's body and knew that he was close to blowing off. They just hoped Ron and Hermione could be found soon.

Ten minutes later Ginny came back, but she wasn't alone. Mr. Weasley, Charlie, Angelina, Percy and most surprisingly, Neville, were all accompanying her.

They all looked at each other with varying degrees of surprise, but nobody really knew what to say. When the silence became stifling, George turned to Dean and said, "Mate, just give us the location. You don't have to come with us."

"Bullshit! They're my friends too. I'm going with you Georgie," Dean replied back resolutely.

"Fine then, let's go." Everybody nodded.

Since most of the people were unfamiliar with the area, Dean had to do multiple side-along apparations to take all the people to a deserted alley behind the stadium. Once everyone had gathered in the small, dirty alley, they spread out in pairs to look at the areas where any magic or wards might be felt. Out of the ten total members of their search and rescue party, six were former members of the Dumbledore's Army, and five of them still had those galleons that Hermione had infused with a Protean charm. So the DA members paired up with the non-DA ones. Ginny of course went with her husband. Harry told everyone that if they find any traces of magic, or get any idea about Hermione and Ron's location, they should immediately send a message with the DA galleons. With that, everybody set off.

Harry and Ginny went around the Etihad stadium, looking around the buildings and casting subtle spells to see if any traces of magic or wards could be identified. They had been at it for almost 45 minutes, and Ginny could see that Harry was becoming more and more agitated. While she herself was really worried, she didn't let it show on her face as she knew it would set him off even more. They kept checking their galleon to see if anyone else had found something, but it was complete radio-silence from everyone.

When it looked like they were just roaming around fruitlessly, Harry suddenly felt the coin in his arm grow warm. He saw that it was a message from Neville simply stating, "Found something," followed by some coordinates. Immediately, Harry and his wife apparated to said coordinates. Thankfully, as it was close to midnight, there were only a few muggles around and no one saw several people materializing out of thin air.

"What is it?" Harry asked Neville even before his feet had landed on steady ground.

"There appears to be an abandoned building that's just teeming with traces of magic. I felt some really strong wards. Also, I spotted a muggle going towards that building, who suddenly turned around like he remembered something, which confirms that there are mugg —"

"Muggle repelling spells, yes. Well done Neville, thanks!" Harry praised his friend.

Then they all set off towards the building that Neville had indicated. Closer to the structure, Harry could see that there were indeed a lot of wards surrounding the property. The building in itself wasn't anything impressive. It was just an ugly brick building, with nothing special about it. Bill, who was a curse-breaker, was tasked with the job of identifying the nature of wards around the property.

When it was clear that there were no harm in advancing towards the building, there was a general unease among the witches and wizards. No one really knew how to proceed. Harry took the lead and started moving closer to the entrance, before Ginny had to remind him that it probably might not be the best course of action. It was a fact that there were at least one wizard or witch inside and that always called for caution. So, they looked for alternative ways to enter the building.

Going around the back, Harry noticed a few windows near the bottom of the building, indicating a basement or a dungeon. He crouched down to see if he could take a look inside. The window panes were filthy, like they hadn't been cleaned in ages, so he used his handkerchief to wipe them clean to get a better look. A few floating candidates again confirmed the fact that the building was currently inhabited by wizarding people. From his limited view of the large area, it appeared to be a store room of sorts. There were all sorts of boxes, broken furniture, mismatched knick-knacks, all covered with dusty sheets. He squinted hard to see anything beside the junk, and his eyes moved towards the corner where a large lump lay on the ground. It was too dark and dull inside to discern any distinguishable features. Upon closer inspection, the lump appeared to be moving, as if it was breathing. Harry's breath hitched. It couldn't be, could it?

He held his breath as his eyes remained transfixed at the what he now knew to be a person lying on the dusty floor of the basement. He watched, as the person tried to roll over and moaned in pain, but they were able to turn their head slowly and the sheet covering their head fell away far enough for Harry to see their face. He didn't need to though, for as soon as the sheet fell, he could see the mass of curly hair, and he immediately knew who this person lying injured on the floor was. Her face was bruised, and she looked so small and frail, almost like a broken doll. He had never seen her like that, even on the multiple occasions when she had laid injured in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, she had appeared strong, nearly invincible. To see her like that, struggling to move, struggling to breathe, was as agonizing as it was rage-inducing.

Harry saw red.

"Hermione!" he screamed so ferociously, some nearby birds squawked and flew away in fear.

He did not hesitate for a single second, even when he could hear Ginny screaming behind him to stop, even as he could see his friends coming towards him from his peripheral vision. He didn't care, he would go and save her, everything else be damned.

He threw a reducto on the window pane, which obliterated the entire section where the window used to be. He climbed down quickly, uncaring of the broken glass and bricks lying all around. He crossed the basement with a single minded focus – get to her and see if she was okay.

When he reached her, he carefully rolled her all the way, and tenderly took her face in his hands. Up close, he could just how badly hurt she was. Her entire face was bruised, bloody and swollen. Her hair was matted with dried blood, and going by her shallow breathing, she had possibly sustained injuries in her chest too.

"Hermione, Hermione, can you hear me? I'm here now. You're safe now, I'll take care of you. Hermione?" he whispered to her quietly, afraid of hurting her further.

It was a few seconds before her swollen eyes opened and she looked straight at him. He held his breath the entire time as he saw the thought process behind her eyes. She recognized him soon enough and whispered brokenly —

"H-Harry... Wh-where? What are you —" she attempted to speak coherently, but he could see how much of an effort it was taking, so he shushed her, and told her that it was okay. By then other people had climbed down from the window as well, and had surrounded him and Hermione. Harry could not look away from her face, his eyes roving over the multiple cuts and gashes, and the seed of anger inside him grew like a festering, ugly wound. He made a promise to himself that whoever did this to her will die by his wand that very day.

The others knelt beside him and Ginny and Angelina each took one of Hermione's hands. Her eyes opened at that, and again she looked at Harry. "Harry? Where's R-Ron?" she asked in a small voice.

Immediately, Harry was on alert. He had been so relieved at finding her, his other best friend had almost slipped from his mind. He looked down again and saw that Hermione was now distressed, no doubt worried about her husband.

"We'll find him," he told her resolutely, and she nodded, easily believing him.

He was just about to tell the others how to proceed, when there was a sudden commotion from the stairs; shouts of several wizards could be heard. Harry gently lowered Hermione from his arms back to the ground, and was quickly on his feet, his wand drawn. He saw that the others had done the same; he took the lead and stood in front of the closed door, ready for anything.

He saw that Ginny had got up too, and he motioned for her not to. "Stay with Hermione. Protect her," he commanded in a tone which left no room for argument. He could see that she was a little peeved at his tone, but thankfully, she didn't press the issue and got in a protective stance in front of their curly-haired friend.

The floor vibrated with the footsteps of several people. Harry held his ground, his wand arm just twitching to cast something.

There were a sound of a 'click', like a lock opening and then the door was blown wide open. At once, Harry could see about 7-8 wizards holding an offensive position. They took one look at Hermione and the people surrounding her, and their eyes grew wide.

That was enough for Harry. These wizards might or might not have hurt her, but they certainly knew about her capture and were therefore complicit in hurting her. And that was completely unforgivable in his eyes.

Before anyone could react, Harry swished his wand in a complicated pattern, and cast a series of spells, most of them hitting the wizards in front of him. That was the signal everyone needed and suddenly, there was an all-out fight in the basement. From the corner of his eyes, Harry could see a few stray spells flying towards Hermione, but thankfully, Ginny had erected a powerful shield that absorbed the curses. Trusting his wife to protect their injured friend, Harry advanced forward.

He and his friends cast spells, dodged curses and moved forward. He could see that the fight was going in their favor, as the perpetrators were scattering, retreating back to the upper floors. He saw one wizard look up the stairs and shout, "Potter is here!" Before the wizard could do anything else, Harry quickly cast a stunner in his direction and ran up to the now unconscious man.

Harry saw that the wizard had dropped his wand, so he quickly pocketed it and then cast a rennervate on the man. The dark wizard sputtered incoherently for a few seconds, before he saw who was standing above him, and a defiant expression came on his face.

"Where is Ron Weasley?" Harry asked the man, who remained resolutely silent.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, where is Ron Weasley? Where are you keeping him? Tell me or—"

"Or what Potter? You can't do shit to us! You and your pathetic Ministry —" the man was suddenly rendered silent by Harry's fist violently smashing his cheek. There was a sickening crunch, indicator of the man's broken nose. Blood coated Harry's knuckles but he took no notice of it.

"Where is he?"

"Fuck you Potter! You'll never find —" the man was stopped by another slap across his face, and he howled in pain.

Harry didn't know why he was resorting to such barbaric muggle methods of persuasion, but at this moment he was angry beyond measure and he didn't want to engage in frivolous back and forth with scumbags.

"We can keep doing this, or you could tell me what I want to know, and I can arrest you and put you out of your misery," he calmly told the other wizard.

But before the man could reply, an orange spell whizzed past Harry with a brute force. He quickly ducked down and then retaliated, sending quick spells in the general direction of his attacker.

He discovered where the coward was hiding but it was impossible to attack them from his current vantage point. He made a hasty retreat, rounding the corner and donning his trusty invisibility cloak, which hid his body. Then, very quietly he made his way over to the wizard and surprised him from behind.

Harry made quick work of the wizard and then proceeded to drag him away from the mayhem. He pointed his wand right between the wizard's eyebrows and then asked him in a no-nonsense tone —

"Where is Ron Weasley? Tell me quickly and I assure you I won't seek higher charges. If you try to play with me, I will ensure that you never see anything outside the Azkaban's walls ever again."

The wizard, who was about to say something prior to Harry's threat, quickly shut up and then looked at the Savior of the Wizarding World. He must have decided that fighting Harry wasn't worth it, and so he just nodded.

"I can show you where he is, where they both are."

"No need, we've already found Hermione. Just tell me where Ron is."

The wizard got up on shaky legs and put his hands in the air to show Harry that he meant no harm. Then he slowly started walking towards the other staircase, with Harry following closely behind, his wand trained at the wizard's head.

After climbing several steps, the wizard led Harry to a room with a locked door. He turned and told Harry, "He's in there."

"Are there any enchantments on the door?" Harry asked.

"Yes, the door can only be opened by a member of our gang. We all received a medallion which can be used to open enchanted doors like this." He pulled out the medallion which was hanging on his neck by a chain. He touched the small, round medallion to the door, which opened with a creaking groan.

The wizard turned back to Harry, and was promptly hit in the face with a stunning spell. Harry didn't wait for the wizard to fall, he was running up to the now-opened door and quickly turned the handle, his wand at the ready.

If it wasn't for his quick reflexes, Harry Potter would've been dead, for at that moment, a killing curse came soaring at his head, and he ducked just in time. He retreated from the room, and then cast a Homenum revelio. It indicated that there were 4 people in the room. Having an idea of the opposition, Harry reached into his pockets and took out some of the peruvian instant darkness powder from Fred and George's shop. He threw it in the entrance of the room and the darkness immediately took over. He heard screams and shouts from the room. Taking it as his cue, he cast a night vision spell on his eyes, and then went in once more.

This time, Harry didn't make any mistakes. He quickly dispatched the two bad guys nearest to him, blasting them to the walls and the furniture, uncaring of the injuries they might sustain. Their screams must have alerted the other people, because someone casted a strong wind spell, and the darkness started dissipating. When the area was clear and everything could be seen once more, Harry was face to face with the last remaining wizard.

But it wasn't the wizard who caught Harry's attention. No, it was the badly bruised and beaten man who was in the grasp of the wizard. Harry finally found his other missing best friend, and the sight of said friend almost made him feral with rage.

Ron was not in a good condition, that much was apparent just by looking at his face. There were so many cuts and bruises all over his face and body, but what made Harry's blood boil was the obvious signs of torture Ron exhibited. His limbs twitched periodically, an after-effect of the Cruciatus curse. His eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow. Harry was sure that the only reason Ron was standing was because the other wizard was supporting his weight.

Harry took his eyes off of his best friend and then looked at the man pointing his ward at Ron's throat. "Stay back Potter, if you don't want me to blast his head off!" the man threatened Harry.

"And then what?" Harry asked, his voice dropping several octaves.

"Huh?"

"You kill Ron. And then what? What do you think is going to happen to you? You think you'll get away with this? Get a nice, comfy cell in Azkaban and get released in a few days? I assure you, if you hurt him any further, only one of us will be leaving this room alive, and it certainly isn't going to be you. By the time I'm done with you, your own mother won't recognize you."

"Y-you wouldn't do that," the man sputtered uselessly.

"Of course I would. I mean who would stop me? You think they would punish me, for ending a vermin like you? Think about that for a second and tell me which one of us more likely to be forgiven for our crimes?" Harry said with full confidence that every single word he uttered was true, no matter how much he felt conflicted about it.

The man must have realized the truth in Harry's words as well, as his resolve started crumbling. His wand hand trembled, and his eyes darted around as if looking for an exit. But he remained defiant, and did not lower his wand from Ron's head.

Harry was in a bind. On one hand, he really wanted to rip apart the man who had hurt Ron so badly that he couldn't even stand on his own. But on the other hand, rushing recklessly into the fight when Ron's life was on the line was not the smartest move at the moment. He decided to keep talking. If nothing else, at least it will buy him some more time.

"Why did you do it in the first place? Why take Ron and Hermione?" he asked the man the question which had been plaguing him since the whole situation unfolded.

The man looked around once more but ultimately decided to answer. "We had no issues with her. Him on the other hand —" he jabbed Ron in the neck with his wand as he continued, "— he decided to stick his nose in other people's business. He was going out of his way trying to end our smuggling operation. We had already lined people's pockets with enough gold to run our business smoothly. But this one just had to be the hero, didn't he? He kept digging, trying to find evidence against us to put us behind bars. We couldn't let that happen. Our only intention today was to make him a generous offer – more money than he could ever make in a year with his Ministry salary in lieu of his silence. We all would benefit from it. But no! He would not accept the bribe, claiming that he couldn't be bought. He was putting our whole operation in jeopardy. So we decided to teach him a lesson. The witch was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bit of a hellcat, that one. Nearly killed two of my people trying to rescue her loverboy over here," the dark wizard let out a nasty laugh at that. "But she got her comeuppance," he continued, taunting Harry with that vile smirk still on his face.

"And now you'll get yours too," Harry replied, for he had found a weakness that he could exploit.

Unbeknownst to the dark wizard, when he had been busy delivering his villain monologue, Harry had surreptitiously cast a binding hex at the man's legs. There was a sudden yank, and the man went down with a shout. His hold on Ron loosened due to the fall, and Harry wasted no time in trying to get Ron to safety. The dark wizard got his bearings pretty quickly, and Harry saw his wand move in Ron's direction in a pattern he knew very well.

It was a pattern that Lord Voldemort's wand had followed several times as he cast the Avada Kedavera on his victims.

With a split second left between Ron's life and death, Harry did the first thing that came to his mind. He aimed his wand at the man's head and cast a powerful reducto.

The spell was fueled by the savage rage he had been feeling for the past few hours, and the result was brutal. The man's head exploded in a grotesque shower of blood, flesh and bones. Some of it got on Ron too, but Harry was sure the redhead would prefer to be covered in human remains than to be dead.

The threat neutralized, Harry finally breathed with his whole chest. He went to check up on Ron and let out a sigh of relief when he found his friend was still alive and breathing. Albeit his breathing was shallow, and his injuries had started bleeding, but he was alive and Harry intended to keep him the same way.

He sent a patronus to the basement, and hoped that by now, his friends and family taken care of all the other bad guys. He wasn't too worried. Almost all the people who had accompanied him on this rescue mission had been people who had fought a war and survived deatheaters. A few smugglers were not going to be end of them, he was sure of it.

He was proven right when in a few minutes, his wife ran up to the room. She kneeled beside her injured brother and let out a gasp of shock at the site of the headless man lying beside said brother. Harry drew her attention to himself before she could say anything, too tired from the day's events. He instructed her to make arrangements for Ron and Hermione's transfer to St. Mungo's. When Ginny ran out of the room with a promise to return soon, at last, Harry closed his eyes.

His emotions and feelings throughout the day finally caught up to him, and Harry let out a shudder. The overwhelming panic and worry he had been feeling ever since Hermione's assistant stepped into his room to deliver the troublesome news, finally made itself known. He had been keeping a tight lid on his emotions for the sake of keeping his cool for finding his missing friends. But now that he found them, all he felt was a corrosive fury towards the individuals responsible for hurting the people closest to him.

If he could, he would hunt down every single one of those fuckers who dared lay a single finger on his friends. They were his friends, his to cherish, his to love and his to protect.

x-----x

The next day, all the wizarding newspapers were rife with details of the attack on two of the most famous War heroes. The papers talked about the kidnapping of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-Weasley, the attack on the two, and the subsequent rescue mission led by none other than the Savior of the Wizarding world – Harry Potter.

Beneath the headlines were several pictures of the friends and family of Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger-Weasley. Out of all the pictures, one was the most striking. It was a picture of Harry Potter standing outside the facilities at St. Mungo's, answering the press' questions while being surrounded by his family and friends.

It was a picture which did not need words, for it told a story all on its own.

It told the story of the boy-turned-man who had stood up to the darkest wizard of recent times, and came out victorious. It told the story of an auror who was wasn't afraid to put his life in danger to catch the bad guys.

But most importantly, it told the story of a wizard who would go to any lengths to save the ones closest to him.

It told the story of Harry James Potter – the protector, the avenger, the Savior.

December 12, 2005

Department of Mysteries

British Ministry of Magic

11:14 a.m.

Ginny Weasley ran across the cold, hard floors of the endless corridors of the Department of Mysteries, her quidditch jersey sticking to the skin of her torso due to copious amounts of sweat she had owing to her quidditch practice and the events following that.

Ginny ran with a single-minded focus – get to her and tell her what had happened so that she could do something about the misfortune that had befallen on Ginny's family.

When she reached the offices of the Dept. of Mysteries, she immediately made a beeline for the reception, intent on finding the person she was looking for.

"I'm looking for Ms. Granger," she told the elder woman sitting behind the desk, writing in a file. The receptionist didn't acknowledge Ginny and her moments were unhurried. She took her time looking up from the file and then shot a look at Ginny as if she was a pest.

"Unspeakable Granger is busy with a very important task right now. You can leave a message for her or you may come back later," then she looked down again, reiterating her stance that she felt that Ginny was a nuisance.

Ginny gritted her teeth but wisely chose to take a softer approach with the lady who clearly thought herself superior. "Ma'am it's of utmost importance that I speak to Ms. Gra — Unspeakable Granger right now. I'm one of her closest friends. I'm sure that if you could just tell her that I'm here, she would be more than amenable to speak to me."

The woman looked up in annoyance, "Miss —"

"Weasley. Ginny Weasley."

"Ms. Weasley, there are rules in this department. When an unspeakable is engaged in a significant assignment, we're not supposed to disturb them. Everybody has to follow these rules, no one is above them. Not even Unspeakable Granger. So no, I'm not going to inform her about your arrival, until she's finished. Now, if you want to leave a message for her, please go ahead. Otherwise, I would request you to please leave. This is not a department anyone can just randomly waltz in and make demands to speak to the unspeakables."

Ginny knew the woman was lying. Hermione was at the top of her department; in fact, she was the Deputy Head of the Department of Mysteries. If Hermione said Ginny could enter the offices, then no one could stop her from doing so. But there was no point in arguing with the receptionist. Ginny could see that she would not budge. So she gave a cold nod to the woman, and went on to find a secluded corner. She didn't know what to do, time was running out and her family was depending on her.

Suddenly, she saw Zacharias Smith, an employee of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, heading towards the offices in the Dept. of Mysteries. Ginny remembered that Smith often worked closely with the DoM on cases involving international incidents. She intercepted Smith before he reached the hateful receptionist's desk. Before he even had a chance to utter a simple hello, Ginny caught a hold of his sleeve and dragged him to an unused corridor. She wasted no time in telling him what had happened and why she needed Hermione immediately. He nodded and proclaimed that he would help her.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Ginny finally caught sight of the person who was her sole hope in the bleak situation she found herself in. Hermione Granger walked out of the offices in her standard Ministry approved suit and skirt attire.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, her voice cracking as the tears she had tried so hard to conceal finally sprang free.

Instantly, she could tell that Hermione had noticed her distress. "Ginny, what is it?" she asked.

"It's Harry and Ron. They went on a mission to investigate a creature in the Austrian mountains. They were in a group with eight other aurors. Each of them had been given a timed intentional portkey, which would bring them back to England in 24 hours. Well, when they came back, each one of them was unconscious and did not respond to any treatment. The healers at St. Mungo's have determined that their magical cores have been blocked somehow and as a result, they are unable to access their magic for healing. Moreover, their magic is receding by the moment, and soon enough, their magical cores might be completely depleted," Ginny rushed out in a single breath, not leaving a single detail.

Hermione listened closely, and after Ginny's explanation ended, she asked, "How long ago did they turn up in England?"

"It's been about 17 hours now," came the swift reply as Ginny started leading Hermione out towards the entrance.

"17 hours?!" Hermione screeched. "And you're only telling me this now?"

"We got to know only a few hours ago Hermione. I guess the Auror department did not think the aurors' conditions were that serious. When it was clear that they were deteriorating, they informed us. I came to find you as soon as I heard the same empty reassurances and incomplete answers from the healers for the twentieth time." Ginny stopped suddenly. "Hermione, the healers — th-they think that the aurors might be de-dead by the end of the day."

"That's not going to happen. Not as long as I'm here," Hermione replied with so much conviction that Ginny was compelled to believe her. She knew Hermione would move heaven and earth to find a cure for whatever affliction was plaguing the aurors, specially since the lives of her best friends were hanging in the balance.

With that, both the witches sprinted towards the communal floos in the Ministry atrium. They flooed directly to private office of Healer Johnson, the Director of St. Mungo's. As soon as the two witches stepped out, they were received by the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt himself.

"Ms. Granger," the Minister greeted Hermione somberly.

"Kingsley," Hermione replied briskly. She could spot some more people in the room, mostly members of the Weasley family. A few other people, whom she assumed were the family of the other aurors, were gathered around the entrance of the office.

She could see that Mrs. Weasley had been crying in the corner chair, being supported by her husband. As much as she wanted to console the woman who had always been a surrogate mother to her, she had no inclination to waste any time. If the healers believed that the aurors' present condition was life-threatening, she'd better get to work as soon as she could.

"Take me to the aurors," she ordered the nearest healer, who just happened to be the director of the hospital.

Healer Johnson looked back at her with a pinched expression, but before he could say anything, the Minister of Magic spoke up. "Healer Johnson, we've spoken about this. Since the healers have ran out of ideas on how to treat the indisposed aurors, I would like some fresh outside perspective."

"I understand that Minister, but I don't really see how Ms. Granger here could be helpful to us. She's not even a healer," came the disgruntled reply.

"She may not be a healer, but Unspeakable Granger has been involved in many researches on magical cores and how they respond to different outside influences. Her work with the victims who had been kissed by rouge dementors is known and commended at the international level. Besides, let's not forget that Ms. Granger did complete her healer training from this very hospital before eventually switching over to be an unspeakable as her interests lay towards research. If the healers at St. Mungo' really are at a loss as to what's going on with the aurors and how to treat it, it makes sense to take help from those people who expertize in obscure magics. The unspeakables being on this case makes sense here. Don't you think, Healer Johnson?" Though the Minister had framed it as a question, it was clear that he was looking for only one answer.

"Of course, Minister," the director replied sourly. "What do you need Unspeakable Granger?"

"All the files on each auror. Whatever you've done for them. I want all the details – their presenting symptoms, the tests that you did, the bloodwork, the diagnostic images you retrieved, any documented rate of magical core loss, the interventions you administered and their effect on the patients, and any alternatives approaches you might be considering. Meanwhile, I'm going to take a look at the aurors. Are they all being kept in the same areas?"

"Yes, we've isolated them in the north-east wing of the hospital, both for privacy and efficiency. I'll arrange those files for you," Healer Johnson left quickly, his stance rigid.

She turned to the Minister next. "Kingsley, do we know which creature were the aurors investigating?"

"Unfortunately we do not. The auror department do have a few ideas, but nothing can be said with certainty —"

"I'll need all the data that they have. Could you please have Robards come down here and give me details of all the reported incidents involving the creature and all the events leading up to the aurors being dispatched to the area?" Kingsley nodded and went to make floo call to Auror Robards.

She ordered the nearest healer to take her to the wing where the group of aurors were being treated.

11:39 a.m.

Hermione got her first good look at the aurors, who had been placed in the common infirmary, similar to the Hogwarts set up. In the large room, 10 beds had been placed, 5 on each side of the room. She didn't have to look too hard to find her friends, Ron's flaming red hair called to her like a beacon. She made a beeline for the back of the room, where the two most important people in the world for her were lying unconscious in their beds.

She reached Harry first. His pale skin was in a stark contrast to his black hair. The lightening scar on his forehead, which had faded considerably since the end of the War, was still a major stand-out feature of his face. His lips were cracked and tinged with a slightly bluish hue. His body was covered with the hospital sheet but Hermione could see that the rise and fall of chest was slower than usual. Apart from the exhausted expression and a few cuts and bruises on his face, he appeared otherwise okay. But looks could be deceiving, she knew.

"Harry," she called his name as she held his hand in her own. His skin was cold against hers and she hoped that by some miracle his eyes would open and he would grace her with that mischievous smile of his. When neither of those things happened, she turned her face away and noticed his broken spectacles lying on the bedside table. The sight of the cracked glasses caused her heart to clench painfully. But now was not the time for her to have a breakdown. With a final squeeze of his hand, she made her way to the next bed where her other best friend was lying unconscious.

She smiled a little at how long Ron's red hair had grown. She could imagine the way he would be flicking it away impatiently each time it got into his eyes. She repeated the same process of calling out his name while holding his hand and was once more disappointed. Nonetheless, she parted his hair away from his face and and made a quick observation of his general condition and the injuries he had sustained.

With her quick observation done, she made her way over to the remaining aurors, giving every one a once-over to note any injuries and other problems. It was a group of seven wizards, including Harry and Ron, and three witches. She knew most of them — some were former schoolmates, while the rest were acquaintances made as they all worked in the Ministry. Hermione noted that almost everyone sported similar injuries — shallow cuts and gashes, with an exhausted facial expression, indicative of their ever-leaking magical core.

Two healers levitating large stacks of files in front of them approached her. She asked them to set down the files on the mediwitch station.

It was time to begin.

12:26 p.m.

Hermione had gone through all the records of the aurors' treatment regime in a record-breaking time. Since the healers at St. Mungo's had not been able to diagnose the problem with the aurors, a lot of the information was about diagnostic tests rather than the treatment plans. While it did not guide her in the right direction, she was still grateful as at least she knew which diagnostic tests not to perform. Time was not on her side and she could not afford to waste it.

The data provided in the files was presented in a haphazard, disorderly way. She could understand that the healers did not have enough time to worry about non-consequential things like organization, specially when they were racing against time to save not one, but ten lives. However, she was a person who worked efficiently with well-catalogued texts. So she set about making itemized notes from the mountains of files on the desk.

12:53 p.m.

Hermione had been adding the finishing touches to her personal account of the aurors' treatment records when in walked the Minister of Magic once more. This time, he was accompanied by the Head of the Auror Department, Gawain Robards. Hermione knew Robards well as he was Harry and Ron's boss and was often invited to celebrations and get-togethers at both her friends' houses.

"Ms. Granger," Robards greeted her, and in a surprising gesture, placed his hands on her shoulders in a brief, albeit heart-felt hug. Hermione realized then that the man could not have been unaffected by the unforeseen tragedy. It made sense, after all Robards was the one who had sent all these wizards and witches to the mountains to face a nameless threat. A threat so dangerous that it had almost spelled doom for ten people. To be responsible for the loss of ten young lives would probably be a fate worse than death itself.

She returned the subdued greeting, putting her own hands on the man's shoulders in a show of support. Then she gestured the two men to sit.

"Auror Robards, you already know what has happened," Kingsley addressed the auror. "The healers at St. Mungo's have given us a very solemn prognosis for the aurors battling for their lives right now. The healers believe that with the rate the aurors are losing their magic, their life force might be completely leeched out by the end of the day and then their bodies would just give up." Hermione saw Robards grimace at that. "So, I have called Ms. Granger here so that she might offer some alternative perspectives. We're all aware of her exploits in the field of abstruse and archaic magics. I'm sure she might be able to help us. In order to develop a treatment plan, Ms. Granger needs to establish a timeline of the events that lead to the aurors' current conditions. Which is why we need as much information about this magical being that the aurors had been after."

Robards nodded, and from his magically-extended cloak pocket, he retrieved a thick folder and extended it to her. "These are all the reports the Austrian Ministry of Magic had received about this mythical beast. As you'll find, most of the attacks happened on unsuspecting muggles. Nearly all the muggles died within hours of encountering the creature. Those lucky few who did not get in a direct confrontation with the beast were the ones who made the reports. They could not give any description of the beast as they couldn't see it at all, which confirms our suspicions that this is a magical being. The muggle survivors talked about a feeling of general unease, as if they could sense a creature, but not see it. When the numbers of victims started reaching in triple digits and a few wizarding folks were also killed by the beast, the Austrian Ministry finally got involved. They sent their researchers and people who deal with magical creatures to identify and if possible, capture the creature. They were just as powerless as our aurors had been. They had sent a group of six investigators, all of whom are now dead." She gasped at this, while Kingsley sighed. He apparently knew about it already.

Robards continued, "When they requested help from us, we studied the cases and came to the conclusion that it was either rouge dementors or some other kind of dark creature who steals souls. However, when the dead aurors' bodies were examined, it was determined that their cause of death was loss of magic and not their souls being taken. We don't know any creature that causes loss of magic in wizarding people, so we thought to send the aurors instead of researchers so that they could observe the beast from afar, and report back their findings. This would have given us enough data and time to formulate further plans. The last correspondence I had with the team had been at 5 p.m. yesterday evening. Auror Potter, the team lead, had reported that they had possibly spotted the mystical being. They did not report any identifying features, but apparently the creature was large and could fly as it was air-borne. They were clearly ordered not to make contact with the beast as we did not want them to get hurt. However, something must have gone wrong. After the last transmission with Auror Potter, I didn't hear from them, until the time they turned up in England with the portkey."

As Robards finished his explanation, Hermione had a thoughtful expression on her face. "Did the Austrian Ministry ever find out what it was? Did they share any useful information?" she asked a little desperately.

"Not really. They were much too occupied with dealing with a recent vampire infestation in their muggle cities. They could not spare many aurors, as most of them were busy with fending off attacks from the vamps at night time. That's why they asked us for help," Robarts replied. "Although —" here he stopped, an odd expression on his face.

"— from the interviews with the muggles who had survived the attack, a peculiar detail emerged. The very first muggle survivor reported that his friend, who died later, heard a strange, melancholy sound, like someone was humming a sorrowful melody. The muggle described it as equally haunting and terrifying. The Austrian aurors didn't know what to make of it. Initially, we dismissed it as a co-incidence. But then, the remaining three muggle survivors corroborated the same detail. All of their friends or family who had died, heard the same sinister tune at the time of the attack. In contrast, the survivors did not hear anything. But as all the deceased muggles heard the tune, we don't know what to think."

She added this piece of information in her personal notes and thanked Robards for his time. Even before the two men had left the ward, she was already deep in the thick file Robards had brought.

1:38 p.m.

After going through all the notes on the sightings and attacks of the creature, the aurors condition upon coming back and their subsequent treatment at St. Mungo's, and combined with her personal observations, Hermione drew up the following bullet points on a fresh parchment —

1:50 p.m.

After getting the points on paper, Hermione had a much better handle on things. Several thoughts and ideas were beginning to formulate in her mind. The most logical solution was to find out about the magical beast who was supposedly behind the attack and rapid decline in the condition of the aurors. However, there was another pressing concern which was the loss of the aurors' magical reserves. They had been depleting at a rapid rate, and if a lid wasn't put on that, well then there would be no point in identifying the creature. The aurors would be long gone before that.

Prioritizing the order of business, she decided to go to the Department of Mysteries' personal library. It housed wizarding Britain's preeminent collection of text on obscure magic and archaic magical theories. If there was an answer somewhere, it would be in those dusty shelves.

3:17 p.m.

Hermione was sure that she had hit a breakthrough just as the clock spelled the 21^st hour since the aurors' return from Austria. The healers had reported that their condition was worsening. Draco Malfoy, one of the aurors, had started bleeding from every body orifice. And Rosamaria Avion, another auror had been experiencing violent seizures every 5-10 minutes. The healers were trying to stabilize them as best as they could, but they were running out of time and options. Judging by their conditions, it wouldn't be too long before it was too late for her to do anything.

She sent a quick patronus to Kingsley to call Narcissa Malfoy to the Ministry. She had spotted the older witch sitting by Draco's bedside, crying over his prone form when she thought no one was looking. She communicated to Kingsley come to accompany Mrs. Malfoy to the seventh floor, where the Ministry's apothecary was located. Meanwhile, she dashed to her offices in the DoM and called every available unspeakable. They had a lot of work to do.

3:28 p.m.

Hermione had just finished the set-up for large scale potions production in one of the unused potions lab deep in the bowels of the Ministry, when Kingsley walked in with Narcissa Malfoy.

"Mrs. Malfoy, thank you for coming so quickly," she muttered, even before the woman had sat down. "Now, are you aware of the Le Jardin d'herbes de Morgane located in Lyon, France?"

If the Malfoy matriarch found Hermione's lack of manners uncouth and appalling, she didn't mention it. "Of course Unspeakable Granger. It's the finest magical garden in all of France. All types of magical herbs, flora, and fungi grow there. Researchers from all over the world visit the gardens and learn about the magical plants," she replied, her cultured voice not betraying even the barest hint of the sorrow the woman was carrying.

"Yes, of course. What I meant is, are you aware of the significance of the gardens to the Malfoy family?" Hermione asked.

The woman nodded. "Yes. The gardens and the surrounding lands have been a source of a long-drawn dispute between the Malfoy family and the Dupont family, who are one of the oldest wizarding families in all of Europe. The lands had once belonged to the Duponts, but the Malfoys bought them sometime in the 14th century. The descendants of the Duponts have challenged this transaction, claiming that the sale was achieved through fraudulent means and coercion. After much fighting and back-and-forth going on for several centuries, finally the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France ruled in favor of the Malfoys. The gardens came in our possession permanently at the turn of the 20^th century."

"Right. Your family owns those gardens, which is a very good thing. I need a special herb from those gardens. It's called Raskovnik. According to the legends, it can unlock any locked or closed thing. I'm hoping to use it in a potion to administer to the aurors. It may help in unblocking their magical cores. Once the magic flows to their body, it could give us some time to find a permanent cure."

"Show me a picture of the plant, and I shall bring it you without haste," Narcissa said resolutely. The hope of a cure brought back the formidable strength she had always exhibited as the matriarch of one of the oldest families in wizarding Britain.

Without missing a beat, Hermione summoned a piece of parchment containing information and pictures about the magical plant, and offered it to the woman. "Take a house-elf with you," she directed. At the woman's questioning look, she explained, "The plant has developed a defensive mechanism over the centuries. Because of how rare it is, it is more likely to be abused by people. If a human tries to cut the plant, it will release a powerful spray of spores which renders the person completely blind. Elf magic is much more powerful, so they don't suffer any harm by the plant."

Narcissa Malfoy nodded and then, with a determined set of shoulders, disappeared down the hallway.

4:07 p.m.

Mrs. Malfoy returned, just as Hermione and her colleagues had finished prepping all the other ingredients for the potion. She looked a little worse for the wear, and Hermione knew why. International travel in such a short amount of time was very taxing on the body. She took the plant, covered by a silk cloth and kept under a stasis charm. A little house-elf, whom Hermione assumed was the one to pluck it, stared at her with it's overly large eyes. She examined the plant and was satisfied. She quickly thanked the other woman, and proceeded towards the potions lab, eager to begin.

Before she could go, Mrs. Malfoy stopped her and offered her the little elf, Minni. "In case you need any help," the older witch told her. Too busy to care, she just nodded absently and the elf followed her to the lab.

5:23 p.m.

Hermione gasped, her nerves frayed. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the potion was ready. It was an experimental potion, so there was no way to confirm if it had been brewed perfectly. But it did not matter. Perfect or not, she was sure the potion would work. It had to, she thought desperately. She flooed back to St. Mungo's, the Malfoy elf following her, levitating a large cauldron behind them. A few of her fellow unspeakables were close on her heels.

What began as a brisk walk turned into a full-fledged run as she spotted the hoard of people in front of the doors of the ward where the aurors were being treated. She saw several people crying, including the Weasley family and Mrs. Malfoy.

Merlin! Don't let it be too late. Please don't let it be too late.

She ran past all the people, dodging their grasp and their questions. She had no time to waste.

An even bigger crowd of healers was standing by the medi-witch station. Kingsley was standing with Healer Johnson, talking in low voices. She skidded to a halt in front of the med-witch station.

"Minni, prepare the doses of the potion. Everyone, listen up," she addressed the group of healers. "I have prepared a potion which should help the aurors. We need to administer it quickly. Everybody take a dose from Minni and quickly administer it to one auror each. Tip their head back properly and use the hirundo spell to make sure they swallow it. It should start working soon."

"Excuse me, what exactly is this potion? What would it do?" Healer Johnson came to the front now.

"No time to go into the details right now. This is a potion I made with a combination of restorative and healing agents. One of the star ingredient is the Raskovnik, an herb known for unlocking any locked thing. I'm hoping the potion would unblock the magical cores of the aurors so that their bodies can access their magic to heal themselves," She said in a rush, never pausing in her task of measuring and bottling each dose.

"So it's an experimental potion? We don't even have any proof that it will work, just your word?" the head healer continued.

"Yes, just my word. Do you have any other bright ideas?" She asked snootily. When she received nothing more than a sullen stare in reply, she continued, "Yes, didn't think so."

She looked at the aurors at large, "This is a last-ditch effort to save their lives. The potion, in theory, should be a temporary fix to buy us some time to figure out a permanent cure. If the potion doesn't work —" she left the thought incomplete. Everyone knew what she meant. The aurors would be dead in a couple of hours max, so there was no harm in administering an experimental potion anyway.

"All right then," Healer Stafford, the Deputy Head of St. Mungo's now stepped forward, her bony hands outstretched to take a vial of potion.

Ten minutes later, the potion had been poured down the throats of all ten aurors. Hermione had personally administered the potion to Harry and Ron, with a silent prayer to any deity who was listening, to help her friends. There was an anxious chill in the air, as all the healers, unspeakables, other Ministry officials hovered around the aurors and waited for something to happen.

5:50 p.m.

"How would we know if the potion is working?" Healer Stafford asked, her thin lips quivering.

"It's been around 15 minutes. If the potion has started working, we should find signs of their magic flowing through their bodies. Cast a diagnostic spell," Hermione suggested.

Healer Stafford nodded, and then waved her wand over the body of the closest auror – Leeroy Mumford. Every single conscious person in the room held their breath. The air was fraught with thick tension. Hermione felt her heart clench so painfully, it was as if someone had reached inside her ribcage and held the organ tightly to prevent it from beating.

The results of the diagnostic spell floated above the auror's bed. It was a blue-hued image of the man's body, his internal organs visible. There were visible abnormalities in those organs. Tissues were swollen, broken down, the organs were misshapen, blood and fluid accumulation was visible. It was a scene of the global chaos happening inside the auror's body. However, despite of all the havoc, there was something there – a beam of pure, serene golden light, which had begun from the man's heart and was travelling all over his body. The streak of gold light wrapped each organ it came in contact with, and there was a wave of healing in it's wake.

"It's working. Merlin, it's working. His magic is flowing, healing his body," Healer Stafford said, her voice cracking.

The sight caused a chain reaction, and soon, more healers stepped up, and cast diagnostic spell on all the aurors. All spells showed the same result – all ten aurors' magical cores had been unblocked, and their magic was flowing freely, finally taking charge of healing their bodies.

There were shouts and whoops of joy as all the healers witnessed the return of their hope. Hermione, whose heart had stopped beating altogether, felt it restart with a ferocious rhythm, as if it was making up for all the lost seconds. There were people who were coming towards her to shake her hands, but she had other things to focus on. She cast a very powerful and advanced spell on Auror Mumford. This one was focused more on his magical core, than his body. Her spell caused another image to flutter in the air – the magical core appeared in the form of a big, round green ball. There were plenty of holes in that mass of magic, confirming a leak. That's why the auror was losing his magic, and the presence of those little holes suggested that he was still losing his magic, albeit at a slower pace compared to before.

Hermione frowned. She had hoped that the diagnostic spell would tell her something more useful besides what she knew already. Like perhaps what was causing those holes in Mumford's magical core. However, no matter how much she twisted and turned the hovering image, it did not reveal anything new. By now, the healers had congregated around her and were looking at the image she had conjured. They were muttering amongst themselves, wondering what it could mean. She was no closer to figuring out anything, until —

"Merlin! What is that?" A healer who she was unfamiliar with, exclaimed, his eyes glued to the magical ball.

"What is it?" she walked over to his side, eager to see what he had spotted. But she was unable to find what had captured the healer's attention.

Looking around, the confused faces confirmed that no one else had spotted the supposed abnormality either.

"What is it? What do you see?" she asked him once more, short of patience.

"You don't see those hooks in his core?" the healer asked her bewildered.

"What hooks? I don't see anything there. Describe to me in detail what do you see," she commanded, her interest peaked.

The healer looked around nervously, his face stricken. He took a few deep breaths and she was about to scold him to get a grip when he began, his voice shaky.

"Well, in this ball which represents the auror's magical core, I see a great many fissures in the form of small holes, which I think are the areas from which his magic was and still is leaking. The entire ball appears to be green in color." All other people in the room nodded, they could see as much. "But here, at the east side, I can see some discoloration. This area, right here —" he pointed to an area, "— is tinged with angry red. That's where I see something which resembles a hook embedded in the magical core. Also, there's a long black tube, almost like a tentacle attached to the hook. That's all I see."

All the other people looked at him gobsmacked, as none of them could see what he had described.

"Are you pulling one on us Jenkins? You should know this is not the time for things like this," Healer Johnson admonished him.

"I'm not pulling anything on anybody Healer Johnson. That's what I see," the younger man defended himself.

"Wait, hold on," she butted in. "Do you have any magical creature ancestry in your family?"

"Uh, why do you ask?" the healer asked uncomfortably.

"Magical creatures can often sense and even see each other before ordinary wizarding folks can. That might be a reason why you can see what we can't".

She could see that the man was ill-at-ease, but his momentary discomfort was no match to the mammoth stress in the room. Ten people's lives hung in the balance, so he would have to get over himself. She was about to snap at him, when he gave a short nod and told her that some of his distant family had the Veela gene. While a lot of other people did a double take at him, she couldn't care less. It answered her question at least.

"Fine. That certainly confirms that the aurors' loss of magic was because of the creature. It was — it is feeding on their magic. The hooks and tentacles or whatever you see must be how the creature is draining their magical cores. If we identify the creature, we might discover how to — unhook it, so to say, from the aurors' magical cores," she ruminated.

She left St. Mungo's with instructions to take care of the aurors and keep a close eye on them. They were to report to her of any changes, no matter how minute. Before leaving, she had the head healer perform another advanced diagnostic spell on the aurors. This one told her that the slowed progression of the loss of their magical cores meant that they now had about 20 hours more till their magic seeped out completely.

20 hours.

20 hours to save 10 lives.

Even though the odds were against her, she was not easily spooked. She had gone toe-to-toe with some of the darkest wizards in their time, and had come out on top.

9:49 p.m.

Geflügelte Schlange

That was the creature encountered by the aurors and all those other people. This was the creature who had wreaked havoc on so many lives. Hermione was sure of it. So sure in fact, that she was willing to bet all her Gringott's savings on it.

All the other unspeakables and researchers were telling her that she was wrong, that she couldn't possibly be right.

But why were they so adamant that she was wrong?

Well because the creature she was so sure of, was supposedly extinct.

The Geflügelte Schlange, or the winged serpent in English, hadn't been seen anywhere in the world in more than four centuries. The last confirmed sighting was in the year 1569, in Stonehaven, Scotland. It had been said to disappear into the North Sea when spotted by a large crowd, which had started the rumor that the beast could be amphibian, though that fact could not be confirmed. Since then, there had been several sightings, but none of them had ever been officially corroborated. Many efforts had been made to locate the winged serpent, but the mystical creature remained elusive. So how come one was here now, in the Austrian wilderness, preying on unsuspecting muggles and wizards alike?

While she had no answer to the implausibility of an extinct beast coming back to life, she was certain she was right. All her research said so.

The Winged Serpent was a distant cousin of the more commonly known dragons. While dragons could breath fire and fly over long distances, the Geflügelte Schlange could none of those things. What they could do was so much sinister. They were smaller than dragons, and could only hover a few feet above the ground rather than taking a full flight. They were also completely nocturnal, and a predator. They would stalk their prey and strike at the most appropriate moment.

In earlier times, they were called Seelendieb, or soul-stealer. Because of the confusing name, they were thought to be related to the dementors. Once it became clear that they stole magic and life essence rather than people's souls, efforts were made to study the creature. But that was a rather difficult endeavor in itself as anybody who tried to get close enough to study the beast would ultimately die. Over the years, researchers had managed to collect enough factual evidence, all of which matched the mystical beast Hermione's friends had encountered.

The most damning evidence that she had collected from the frayed, yellowed, centuries-old parchments, had been that the Geflügelte Schlange always let out a mournful symphony when it was stalking it's prey. Once a person heard that melody, they were marked for death. While the victim wad in the thrall of the creature, their magic or in case of muggles, their life essence, would be leeched out in a matter of hours. The longest anybody had survived after a attack from the beast was for a period of 3 1/2 days. This, beyond anything else, cemented her belief that she was correct.

The old texts had also mentioned how to save anybody who was in the thrall of the Geflügelte Schlange — the Serpent had to be killed. Death was the only way to cut the connection between the victim's magical core and the creature, and stop the life force from seeping out completely. Of course, the Serpent being as deadly as they were, no one ever in recorded history had escaped the thrall of the beast.

Not wasting a moment rethinking and doubting herself, she went to meet the Minister of Magic.

It was time to slay a beast.

2:17 a.m.

Hermione found her teeth chattering in the frigid Austrian December night. She cast the strongest warming charm on herself and miserably looked around the dense forest, trying to locate the supposedly extinct Winged Serpent.

It hadn't been easy, convincing the aurors and other Ministry officials about her discovery, especially since her fellow unspeakables and other researchers did not believe her. No one wanted to accept the possibility that the extinct creature was the one responsible for the sustained attacks in the past few months in Austria. There had been a lot of back and forth, with the aurors stating that they didn't want to undertake a mission with half-baked facts, and the researchers stating that they needed more time to get proper answers. Neither group had been willing to listen to her perspective, even when she had presented her research.

When it looked like she was fighting a losing battle, because her opponents were just not receptive to any logic at all, she pulled the one move she hated above all. The 'I'm Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of my Age, War Heroine card'. She told them all how she had been the only one to figure out a way to stop the auror's magical loss, when everyone else was struggling. She also reminded them that while they all might care about the aurors' lives, she had a vested interest in resolving this crisis, as her two best friends' lives were on the line.

Finally, the Minister of Magic put his foot down and made her the mission in-charge. He clearly instructed to everyone that things will go down however she wished them to. Everyone had a choice — they could refuse to join the mission, but if they accepted it, they had to play by her rules.

In the end, a group of 18 aurors, unspeakables and other Ministry officials had accompanied her to the Austrian woods where the creature had been discovered. She had made everyone wear chunky muggle headphones, with soft classical music playing continuously from the muggle music players. This was to circumvent the creature's mournful symphony. If they couldn't hear it, chances are they might escape the creature's thrall. They also took a variety of weapons with them including their wands of course, potions, hex bags, venomous plants, and a few other items. They were as ready as they could be.

2:54 a.m.

Just as Hermione's eyes started drooping, a shiny horse patronus came running towards her. It stopped in front of her to relay the message that the beast had been spotted, and then took off running again, to inform other people. Instantly, she felt her sleep disappear and she was on alert. She went to the location indicated by the patronus, all the while keeping her senses open to locate the beast. A group of her fellow Brits had congregated in a large clearing, so that's where she went.

And then she saw it — the huge mass hovering in the sky. Upon closer inspection, she could make out it's features. There was no doubt in her mind now, she had been correct. It was a Geflügelte Schlange. It was astounding how closely the creature resembled it's cousin, the dragon.

Once everyone got over their initial shock of seeing an obsolete ophidian beast alive and well, they sprang into action. She had been clear in the intent behind this mission — the beast had to be killed, not taken captive. This was not a run-of-the-mil research expedition. It was a race against time to save the lives of 10 people. Keeping that in mind, the aurors first started by covering the area with wards of various magnitude. Some were defensive wards, to keep them safe from the creature's attack, while some wards were offensive in nature. If the creature tried anything on them, the wards would retaliate back.

The Serpent had it's mouth open, which meant that it was letting out the sorrowful howls to put them all into it's thrall. She increased the volume of her music, and instructed other people to do the same. The team got ready for the assault. A creature of this size couldn't be killed by a few spells. She and the aurors had put a lot of thought into the attack plan. The aurors would go first, with a synchronized barrage of reductos and bombardas. That should weaken the beast enough, that the fiendfyre conjured by the others would have a chance of penetrating it's outer tough scales. After that, some slicing hexes should do the trick.

Executing the plan was an entirely different thing as formulating it. The beast was large, and unpredictable. The moment it had realized that it's wails were not having any effect on the humans, it had switched tactics. It used it's large tail and wings to swat away the puny humans who were firing spells at it. She ducked away just in time, but a few of her fellow researchers were not so lucky. Several people collided with trees, or landed on their heads, their limbs twisting in awkward angles. They would be dealt with  later. She fired spell after spell. The wards were doing their jobs, preventing the creature from seriously harming anyone. But no amount of wards could protect them against the sheer size of the thing.

A few more people fell after being attacked by the beasts' limbs. As they fell and collided with trees and boulders, their headphones slipped from their heads, putting them in direct hearing range of the Serpent's wails. She wasn't worried about them though, for even if they were put into the beast's thrall, they would be saved eventually when it was killed. She ducked when a huge tree branch fell on her, and she lost her headphones in the process. Straight away, she was hit with those melancholy notes. She had read that all those who had heard the beast's voice described it as haunting, and she was inclined to agree with them. The noise made by the creature were morbidly otherworldly. It was the polar opposite to the dulcet notes that had been playing on her muggle headphones. She was sure that should she survive this, she would never forget these sorrowful moans that were enveloping her in a blanket of despair far more potent than a dementor's presence.

Plowing through the onslaught of pain and the hopelessness brought on by the creature's thrall, she roved her eyes through the scenery to see that only about a handful of aurors and Ministry officials were still standing. Desperate tears clung to her lashes as her brain registered the fact that she might not be able to save her friends after all, but that it wouldn't matter much, because she would surely be joining them soon.

Suddenly, with a sudden burst of impressive magical prowess, Robards fired an unfamiliar spell towards the beast, which appeared to be momentarily frozen in time after the spell hit it. She knew it wasn't the petrificus totalus as it did not work on magical creatures. But it did not matter what spell it was, for as the Serpent stood frozen in the clearing, it's wings unfurled to their entire impressive wingspan, and she saw something pulsing right under the spot where it's left wing met it's heavy body. Something clicked in her brain at once, as she remembered a passage she had read while researching the Serpent.

One more way in which the Geflügelte Schlange differs from its cousin the dragon is that unlike the dragons, the Serpent's heart is not located in it's chest, but rather under the left wing, in the area where the wing meets the body. This makes locating the heart very difficult —

Her own heart pounding in her chest, Hermione made possibly one of the wildest decision of her life, and that included riding a dragon. Kneeling on the ground, she quickly pulled out two large objects out of her ever-reliable beaded bag — a ratty old broom, and the Gryffindor sword. Picking up the heavy articles, she ran to Robards.

"You," she pointed wildly to a young auror lying on the ground, bleeding from a wound on his arm. "Can you fly?" she asked the man.

As the man began sputtering, Robards shouted at him without taking his eyes off the beast, continuing to pelt it with various spells. "Just answer her Mahone."

When the young auror nodded, she threw him the broom. He quickly mounted, and she sat behind him. Before long, they were airborne and she turned to Robards. "At my signal, throw the spell at the Serpent once more. The one you just did which rendered it frozen."

Robards nodded to show that he understood, his face exhausted and his limbs loose. She could feel the same fatigue in herself, they were all under the thrall of the beast and would be unconscious soon.

In the next moment, she and the auror were soring through the air, getting ever closer to the Serpent. She had cast several notice-me-not charms on the two of them, though she wasn't sure if it work on the beast. It was busy swatting away dwindling rouge spells from the few people left standing and hence, did not notice the two people flying towards it.

When they were close enough and at the right angle, she screamed, "Now Robards!"

The bright orange spell came shrieking towards the creature, and in the next second, it was frozen. Without wasting a single moment, she instructed the auror to fly them closer, right under that giant left wing.

In the end, it was astonishing how simple it was. A single mighty plunge of the Gryffindor's sword into the beast's heart was all it took to finally kill the great Winged Serpent. As it died, it let out an ear-piercing inhumane wail and then fell to meet the earth with a thud loud enough to shake the ground. The screams of the dying beast startled the auror and he lost control of the broom. The two of them tumbled towards the ground at breakneck speed.

The lassitude caught up to Hermione and as she fell, her body lost the control of her limbs and the sword and her wand fell out of her limp hands. Both she and the auror met the ground with a sickening crunch. The grotesque sounds accompanying their fall suggested broken bones and darkness soon swallowed her in it's soothing embrace.

5:17 a.m.

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies was rocked with a deafening cacophony of incoherent yells as a few dark-robed Ministry officials and aurors apparated to the foyer, levitating injured bodies with them.

The healers and mediwitches ran to receive them without haste and once it was clear who these people were, they were taken straight to the ward where the ten aurors were being taken care of.

Head Auror Robards had been levitating Hermione and as he set her down on an unoccupied bed, he could already spot the signs of the evident success of their mission. While there was no visible change in the aurors' conditions, there was a palpable excitement in the air. The healers were hovering over their unconscious patients, muttering animatedly amongst themselves.

When the healers looked at the bloody and broken body of Hermione Granger, they descended upon her like bees to nectar. Robards fell on the opposite bed, his legs giving out from under him. I'm getting too old for this, he thought tiredly. Maybe now was as good as any time to just retire. Pass on the mantle to someone else.

Didn't they say that it's better to go out on a high note? This was definitely a grand highlight of his career.

Yes, good time to retire, he thought as he too surrendered to the call of the beckoning darkness.

9:40 a.m.

By mid morning, all the ten aurors were awake. The healers had performed multiple diagnostic tests on them and all of them pointed to one thing only — the aurors were finally out of the woods. Their magical cores were no longer blocked, there was no parasite leached on to their magic and their cores were finally repairing themselves.

Exhilarated yells and squeals of joy reverberated around the once devasted ward. The aurors were quickly filled in on the past two days' events and many of them turned to thank the rescue team who had risked their lives to save the aurors'.

All around the ward, there were scenes of happy and tearful reunions. Harry and Ron were surrounded by the Weasley family, their faces squished in the plump bosom of the Weasley matriarch. Narcissa Malfoy was hugging her son rather stiffly, probably uncomfortable with the scrutiny of other people. Head Auror Robards was getting an earful from his crying wife who was muttering about stupid Austrians. There were people of all age groups milling about, tears and hugs were aplenty.

All the aurors, and two in particular – Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, wanted to express their gratitude to the mastermind behind the whole rescue operation – Hermione Granger.

However, Hermione slept on, oblivious to the world. Every other members of her rescue party, who had been in varying degrees of healing, had woken up. The healers assured the other patients that Ms. Granger was fine, that her magical reserves were simply depleted, as she had been awake and using her magic for more than 18 hours straight. She would wake up when her magic had finished healing her body. That explanation satisfied almost everyone. But her two closest friends were still angsty.

3:53 p.m.

As the afternoon turned to evening, St. Mungo's was in a different kind of disarray. The news of the past two days' events had finally be delivered to the public by the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Multiple entry and exit point of the hospital were overwhelmed with people trying to get in to meet the affected people or to get a glimpse of the triumphant rescue party. There were awed whispers and reverent exclamation of one name several times – Hermione Granger. Many of the British wizarding society wanted to see the War Heroine who had saved the day once more. The healers and security personnel at the hospital were having a very hard time keeping the public away and to keep their patients protected.

The scene inside the hospital was not much different. The ward which had hosted the original ten aurors and later the members of the rescue party, was a literal war zone. There were a bunch of people yelling, all wanting to be heard over the other.

"Well if everything is okay, then why hasn't she woken up yet?" Ron Weasley shouted at a poor healer, his face as red as his flaming hair.

"Sir, please listen to —"

The poor woman was interrupted by yet another Weasley. "Listen, you've been telling us the same thing for several hours now. Why hasn't her condition changed even a bit?" Ginny now asked, her countenance much calmer than her auror brother.

Even as the woman attempted to answer once more, she knew it was a lost cause. They were not really receptive to anything that she said.

"Maybe we should get other healers. Or maybe we can transfer her to a different hospital," Harry Potter now spoke up. His suggestion was met with an enthusiastic agreement by the Weasley siblings.

"Yes, preferably somewhere with competent healers who actually know —"

Ron's angry rant was stopped by a soft voice.

"Ronald Weasley, inside voice," were the first words out of Hermione mouth as she came to.

The effect was instantaneous. All at once, the entire ward's focus shifted to the curly haired unspeakable who had finally woken up. The healers rushed to her bedside, trying to cast spells on her to assess her status. Her friends congregated around her to ask her how she felt. Some of the aurors too made their way to her bedside to thank her. All the mayhem caused Healer Johnson to magically amplify his voice and chastise the people disturbing the healers from doing their work.

Once everyone had backed off, the healers continued with their assessments. Everyone waited with baited breath, as ultimately the healers concluded that Ms. Granger was completely fine. Exhilarated shouts and raucous applause punctuated the air as everyone celebrated the muggle-born witch who had conquered insurmountable odds once more. Even the ever haughty purebloods joined them, reticent respect for the remarkable woman apparent in their stance.

Harry and Ron moved as a single entity and had soon engulfed the witch in their embrace. That was a hug comprising of unsaid words, weighted emotions and renewed promises —

I love you.

I'll always be there for you.

I'll always save you.

November 08, 2007

Irish Ministry of Magic

Limerick, Ireland

Ron Weasley paced the length of the office of the Irish Minister of Magic. His restless gait and his tensely set shoulders gave away his anxious demeanor. He was like a live wire, his nerve endings on fire and his vision tunneled. He was like a raging hippogriff and the other people present in the grand office gave him a wide berth. It was evident that something had rattled him.

But what, one might ask?

Well, the thing that had perturbed him so much was the innocuous letter lying on the desk, which was currently being occupied by the British Minister of Magic. The unassuming piece of parchment looked to be so innocent, yet was hiding deepest vitriol Ron had ever seen written on paper. He had half a mind to send an incendio at the offending paper, but he knew it was a vital evidence and shouldn't be tampered with. But Merlin was it tempting.

He turned his flaming blue eyes on the Minister of Magic. "I told you not to bow down to those assholes Kingsley. Now, see what happened!" he yelled accusatorily.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, your reservations about the last correspondence were well registered. That doesn't mean that what we did was wrong. Bureaucracy doesn't work like that," the Minister replied tiredly.

"It was not wrong?!" screeched the redhead auror. "Well if it wasn't wrong, then why are the hostages not home yet? Oh that's right, because terrorists do not have a moral code and are not always inclined to keep their word!"

"Ron, please —" the Minister beseeched the auror to calm down. "I know what you want, what we all want. And believe me, I want to do it too, but I can't, and you very well know why. There are about hundred lives on the line here..." the Minister trailed off.

Kingsley let out a deep-suffering sigh, and scrubbed a hand down his face. His eyes felt like they had sand in them, his hearing was partially gone from all the yelling his ears had suffered through, and his body felt like it belonged to a wizard in his hundreds or two hundreds, rather than a young wizard in his later forties. It seemed he had aged several decades in the last week. Being the Minister of magic at a time like this was probably the worst card any wizard could be dealt. Kingsley cursed his luck. It should've been a time of peace and prosperity. Conversely, it was a rather tumultuous time not just for the British Wizarding society, but for a lot of other nations as well.

Lord Voldemort may have been long dead, but the after-effects of his ephemeral but iniquitous reign were being felt even today. He had opened the world up to the idea that Wizarding societies could be swayed and subdued with terror and schismatic beliefs. The fact that the British Ministry of Magic had been infiltrated so effortlessly was fresh in everyone's mind. In the wake of Lord Voldemort's death, there was a power vacuum. Dark wizards in every corner of the globe were clamoring for power in their countries. Most wizarding governments had tightened security and kept a closer eye on their citizens to halt any violent sedition as soon as possible. Still, that had not deterred some of the more hardcore dark wizards. Some had formed their own terror outfits like the deatheaters, and had been wreaking havoc on wizarding societies across the globe.

One such group was the 'Silent Snake'. They had surfaced in the States about 2 years after Lord Voldemort's defeat, but after not finding much success in their own country, had shifted their focus to the wizarding societies in Europe. They were responsible for multiple coordinated attacks across the continent. They would sow seeds of chaos to destabilize the governments and then demand something from the government in exchange for stopping their shenanigans. This extortion had worked exceptionally well for them, and the group had become notorious for their antics. There were multiple arrest warrants for many of their known leaders, but so far the Silent Snakes had evaded capture, even when they were not so silent in their evil schemes. Only a handful of low-level Snakes had ever been caught in different countries, but they were too inconsequential to provide any valuable information.

About two months ago, the Silent Snakes had made their way to the British wizarding world. Their first crime had been relatively simple – seizing control of a legal potions manufacturing unit and selling the potions at ridiculous markup. The Ministry had not paid much attention to it, as the owner had quickly taken back his complaint. This had appeared to emboldened the Snakes and they kept up their antics.

Then, about a week and half ago, the Snakes had upped their game, and in the process, had taken Britain by storm.

Ten days ago, Hermione Granger, one of the most talented researchers in Britain, had travelled, along with a delegation of other researchers, healers and bureaucrats, to Ireland. Accompanying the researchers were a group of aurors, lead by none other than the Savior of the Wizarding World – Harry Potter. This was supposed to be a routine trip, just a gathering of academicians from the two countries to engage in discussions on several topics and flex their nerdiness over everyone else. The 2-day excursion was intended to be a simple, friendly visit to foster and maintain good relations between the two nations. Visits like these were doubly important after the Irish Ministry of Magic had split from the British Ministry five years ago. The security measures for this event were not lax by any means, but they weren't top-notch either. Moreover, since the event had been scheduled at a muggle hotel, wards were pretty basic. The officials were just not expecting any trouble at all.

Except trouble had found them.

When the after-party was in full swing at the Elysium Hotel in Dublin, members of the Silent Snake had arrived and easily subdued the few aurors present at the event. The other guests, most of whom were heavily inebriated, couldn't provide much help and soon, the congregation of more than a hundred people was under the control of the dark wizards. They had quickly confiscated the wands of all the party-goers, and set up anti-apparation wards. Within hours, news had leaked out of the attack and the subsequent hostage situation.

The Wizarding governments of both the countries sprang into action, and Ministry officials swarmed the place. But the Snakes had come fully prepared; they had closed off all access points of the hotel. No one could go in, no one could go out.

In a truly sinister stroke of genius, the Snakes had come bearing an army of Inferi. The purported leader of the Snakes had reportedly been a Necromancer. Now, it seemed that fact was more or less confirmed. The Inferi had surrounded the hostages from all sides and had cut off any hope of escape or rescue.

Once it was clear that the Snakes had full control of all the hostages, the Ministries of the UK and Ireland and a few other nations whose citizens had been among those taken hostage in the hotel, had established communication channels with the Snakes to listen to their demands.

For full two days, there had been radio silence on the Snakes' part. They didn't respond to any sort of communication by the negotiation teams. Then on the third day, they sent a patronus stating that they wanted to talk to someone in charge in the highest departments of the Ministries.

Six people – Gavin Robards from Britain, Evan McPherson from Ireland, Josh Thunderbolt from Scotland, Adrian Miller from the USA, Svetlana Burkovic from Russia and Nancy Vance from Germany were selected as the representatives from their respective Ministries. All of these people were high up in the administrative ladder in their respective governments.

When the negotiations began, it was clear that the Snakes were negotiating in bad faith. Initially, their demands were small, as if they were testing the waters. Their first dictated term had been a thousand galleons, to be promptly delivered by the Irish Minister of Magic himself. Before conceding though, the six negotiators demanded a proof of life for all the hostages. The Snakes had refused at first, but when it had been made clear to them there would be no more negotiations if they remained firm in their defiance, they reluctantly agreed. One of the dark wizard performed a simple homenum revelio, which revealed there were 143 people in that building.

That number was significant for the Ministry officials. There were an estimated 102 people who had been present at the symposium, including the staff of the hotel. Which meant that there were, at minimum, 40 Snakes in the building. 40 dark wizards at the same time and place was never a good news.

There was no intel on the number of Inferi in the building, which provided an additional challenge. While the Inferi were slow, they were quite dangerous, especially if the necromancer controlling them was powerful enough. Nonetheless, now the Ministry officials had a rough idea of what they were dealing with.

Knowing the extent of the danger did not bring them any closer to rescuing the hostages. The hotel building had been well protected by the Snakes. In fact, they had turned the hotel to a damn fortress, it's wards impenetrable. There was no way to launch a rescue. Even if they somehow made it into the building, the army of Inferi would be waiting for them. So at the moment, they had no other choice but to play ball with the Snakes.

And that's exactly what they had been doing.

Five days ago, the Snakes had put forward their first stipulation. They had asked for the broken remains of the Elder Wand – the wand which had once belonged to Gellert Grindelwald, and later to Albus Dumbledore.

The British Ministry had tried to discourage the demand, citing ethical reasons for not wanting to ransack the former headmaster's grave. But the Snakes were relentless. So in return, the Ministry had asked for the release of at least 20 hostages – specially the elderly, and the sick or injured, as there were sure to be some injuries when a group of aurors had faced off against dark wizards. The Snakes had agreed, and Kingsley himself had delivered the broken wand to a young wizard who had appeared at the main gate of the hotel.

However, as everyone knows, dark wizards have no honor. So in a cruel twist, the Snakes had refused to keep their word and no hostages were released, even when the six appointed negotiators insisted.

And that was how Kingsley found himself facing the wrath of Ronald Weasley, one third of the famous trio of War heroes. Kingsley could sympathize with Ron, whose family was in the middle of the danger. His former girlfriend, Hermione Granger and his brother-in-law, Harry Potter were among the hostages. Any man in a similar situation would be anguished. However, what Kingsley saw in Ron was more than just torment. There was a fire raging just beneath his veneer of slight anxiousness.

As much as he was loathe to do, Kingsley tried to pacify the redhead auror.

"Ron listen to me, at the moment, we have no other choice than to follow the directions of those wizards. Otherwise we would have no hope of ever getting back our fine wizards and witches," the Minister repeated the words he had already spoken aloud to hundreds of people since the past ten days.

"Well that choice is unacceptable to me Kingsley. I can't sit quietly while my family is out there, sitting ducks in the face of danger. To hell with your bureaucracy! I'm going to do all it takes to bring them back," with that, Ron stormed out of the Minister's personal chambers at the Ministry.

Ron had just turned a corner, when he collided with a person coming round. The books and parchment in the man's hands crashed to the floor. Ron was just beginning to apologize and help the man with his things, when he noticed a sealed Ministry envelope lying on the floor. Ron's eyes widened as he spotted the envelope. These weren't the standard envelopes used by the Irish Ministry; these envelope and parchments had been issued specially for this particular mission. Which meant that another missive had arrived.

Or rather, another demand had been made.

Ron gnashed his teeth in anger, and looked at the person who he had slammed into.

Adrian Miller was a young American healer whose mother had been among the group taken hostage by the Silent Snakes. He had been busy with his research when news broke of the situation, and he had immediately portkeyed to Ireland. He was a soft-spoken man, though he had the build of a bodybuilder. After much begging and arguing, he had been included in the team of negotiators. Ron could swear he could see the same fire that he felt in himself reflected in Miller's eyes. He decided to intercept the American before he could reach the Minister's office.

"Miller. What do you have there?" he asked the man.

"Weasley. Another one of those damned things arrived today. Those bastards are becoming greedier by the day," the young man replied solemnly.

"What did they ask for this time?" Ron wanted to know.

"Oh nothing much. Just all the ruined fragments of the objects oldy Voldy used as his horcruxes."

Ron felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. "Wha– what? Why would they want those things for?"

"Beats me, man. I'm not really an expert on what those fuckers want," Miller sighed tiredly.

"You don't think —" Ron began before he stopped. He continued his thought when Miller encouraged him to do so.

"I'm not an expert on them either, but I'm guessing they want something nefarious with all those horcruxes. Maybe they want to bring oldy Voldy back to life."

Miller exhaled at this. "Why would they want that? They were not even devoted to him. They have publicly bashed him multiple times."

"Don't know man. But it feels like an awful coincidence that they want all the horcruxes. They're not even horcruxes anymore. They're just shattered objects which were once tainted with dark magic. Only someone really devoted to Voldemort would care for those artifacts anymore."

Miller ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. "Fuck man! This is not good. Another group of fanatics."

"No it's not good," Ron agreed.

With that, the two men lapsed into silence, each lost in their thoughts. Eventually, Miller started moving towards his original destination, but before he could, Ron interrupted him.

"Miller, does the MACUSA have any information on the Snakes? Who are the members? Anything at all?" Ron asked a little desperately.

The young blonde sighed. "Unfortunately, no. They were active in the States for such a short time, that no one took them seriously. When they finally became the menace that they are today, they were well out of the grasp of our authorities. Although —" he hesitated for a second before he continued. "— I think I know one wizard who is an alleged member of the Snakes."

Ron took a sharp inhale. He didn't know why he did what he did next, but there was something inherently trustworthy about the young blonde. "Miller, meet me at the Verve this evening at 7. I think there are some things we should discuss."

Miller nodded and then left.

Ron flew to the British Ministry of Magic, from where he made his way back home where his family was waiting anxiously for some news of their missing loved ones.

x-----x

Same evening

The Verve

Dublin, Ireland

Ron knocked back a glass of firewhiskey as he sat in a booth shadowed in an alcove in the grand wizarding pub. He checked his watch and sneered. Miller was late. By over 30 minutes. Damn Americans and their perpetual lack of punctuality! He was considering going back to his home when the bell at the door tinkled as a frazzled tall blonde wizard walked in and hurried towards his booth.

"Miller, you're la—" he began but was cut off.

"Save it Weasley. I know I'm late but it was important."

Ron was irritated at the callous attitude of the younger man and was about to give him an earful when Miller's next words made his irritation dissipate like the morning dew.

"I might've found a way inside that damn building," Miller said as he gestured a waiter to take his order.

Ron was dumbfounded but held his tongue till the waiter came back with Miller's order. The young blonde took a large gulp of his drink and relished the burn going down his throat before he graced Ron with a look.

Ron finally found his voice. "What is the way inside that building?"

"Not a what, but a who," Miller replied. At Ron's confused face, he continued. "Do you remember when I told you that I might know a potential member of the Snakes? Well, it turns out I was right. There was this guy who went with me to Uni. We both enrolled in the Benedictine University for our mastery in Charms and Transfiguration. He and I were not friends, but we knew each other well enough, as we were in the same classes. We had plenty of conversations. He had always struck me as an odd sort of fellow."

"Odd how?" Ron asked.

"Well he was kind of infatuated with the dark arts. Even when we were studying relatively harmless charms or spells, he always found a way to make them dark and creepy. Like when we were taught how to transfigure a simple cloth fabric into those absorbent bandages used by St. Mungo's that stop the bleeding completely, he was fascinated with that, which is understandable I guess. But then the next day, he rolls up to the class and declares that he has figured out a way to do the opposite. In that, he could transfigure the absorbent bandage to continuously siphon out blood from the body. He just casually demonstrated that on himself. It was so unhinged that the professor actually deducted his grade for unnecessary violence. I was told that such incidents were aplenty in his two years at the Uni. After he graduated, he just dropped off the face of the earth. No one heard from him. He didn't apply for any jobs anywhere as far as I know. His friends thought he had gone back to his hometown in Florida, but even his parents did not know where he was. Then when a few years later the Snakes started making regular appearances in major wizarding newspapers all over the world, I noticed something. You are well aware of the insignia that the Snakes leave behind at every one of their crime scenes, yeah?"

Ron nodded. He was quite familiar with the insignia which also featured on every written communication by the Snakes.

Miller continued, "Well I had seen that same insignia years before the Snakes were even formed. I had seen it repeatedly on every single item owned by that same guy – Ezra Smith. It has so been many years, but I remember it clearly. Now I know what you're thinking, it could be a mere coincidence. But I'm telling you he was obsessed with that damn logo. But I'm not an idiot. I didn't want to share this with anyone without having a compelling proof. When I was trying to recollect things about Ezra I remembered that I had received a few letters from him during our Uni days. Today, when that stupid letter arrived, I took permission from the Minister to take it with me for analysis. I had the calligraphy experts and researchers analyze the thing. Not only is the handwriting on the letters Ezra's, but there's magical traces on all the parchments, both old and new, that match perfectly. There's no room for doubt now. All these letters were written by the same person, which, given all the other evidence, leads me to the conclusion that Ezra Smith is a member of the Silent Snakes."

Ron thought over all the information Miller had shared. While the evidence was mostly circumstantial, it did seem solid. Although handwriting could be easily faked, magical signatures were next to impossible to forge. Miller must have done his research to be so sure. But the identity of any particular member of the Snakes was not relevant in the grand scheme of things.

"Okay, your deduction seems solid enough. However, it still does not yield a way inside that cursed building, Miller," Ron spoke with visible frustration.

"I know. I'm getting there Weasley," Miller replied with equal frustration. The tone of his voice and his hesitation to say whatever he wanted to, made Ron apprehensive of what Miller had in mind.

"Once I had ensured that Smith was a member of the Snakes and is potentially present at the hotel, I alerted the MACUSA. I was just on a floo call with the Minister of Magic and the Head of the Auror department, trying to suggest some ways to take Ezra into confidence so that he might help us. However, the Head Auror had a different approach in mind." Miller grimaced and choked slightly on the too large gulp of drink he had taken.

When it looked like Miller was in no mood to continue, Ron became increasingly vexed. "Come on man! Out with it," he admonished the younger man.

Miller took a deep breath. "As soon as I told them that Smith could be a potential Snake, they apprehended his family, including his seven-year-old sister. They're planning to lure Smith out by threatening him with the safety of his family. They're sure it would work and have not been receptive of any other suggestions, no matter how much I tried to persuade them otherwise."

When Miller was finished, Ron had a pensive look on his face. While kidnapping people, specially a child was obviously very unsavory to him, not to mention highly illegal, he could understand where the Americans were coming from. The Silent Snakes were brutal, and sometimes you just had to fight fire with fire.

"How are they planning to contact and threaten Smith?" he asked the blonde.

"Dunno, they didn't tell me. This is way above my paygrade," Miller replied in an exhausted tone.

"Well your paygrade is about to change," Ron said in a resolute tone as he got up, and gestured Miller to do the same.

"Where are we going?" Miller asked.

"To have a talk with your Head Auror," came the firm reply.

x-----x

A few hours later

The meeting with the Head Auror, Javier Martinez, was going smoothly. At first, Martinez had been evasive and not very forthcoming with information about the Smith family and the aurors' plans for them. But Ron had won him over with his passionate rants about the despicable Snakes and what he would do them if he had free reign.

Martinez stressed the importance of maintaining secrecy of this mission, especially from the British and Irish Ministries. He drilled it over and over again in Ron and Miller's brain that any leak of information could be fatal for the hostages until they were sure that Smith would come through. At this time, the fewer people knew about his connection to the Snakes, the better. Ron had almost acquiesced before he remembered someone else who could help them.

"Auror Martinez, may I suggest someone else who we can entrust to help? A fellow auror and a friend of mine," Ron began but he was quickly shut down by Martinez vigorously shaking his head.

"I'm sorry Mr. Weasley, I won't be including anyone in the plan until we have something concrete. We have a very slim shot at getting some information from Smith and I won't screw that over for your comfort of having your friends near. In fact, you were not supposed to know about this either, but it seems that Healer Miller has lose lips. We'll have to rectify that situation soon enough," Martinez glared at Miller, who looked away sheepishly.

Ron let out a frustrated breath and tried to reason with the older man, "I understand that Auror Martinez. But I'm offering help, not comfort. The person I want to keep in the loop is not only an accomplished auror, but he holds lot of soft and hard power all over Britain. He'll bring muscle and money to the table, both of which are always helpful in missions like these."

"Well who is it?" Martinez asked with a slight sneer.

"Draco Malfoy. He's a senior auror in Britain and his family is one of the oldest known wizarding families in the UK. I'm sure you've heard of them – the Malfoys."

Martinez nodded, "I have. But why do you think Malfoy would be so vital to our mission?"

"Like I said, Malfoy is an auror, and a damned good one at that. He's been a part of several high-stakes assignments, including search and rescue missions. Malfoy is highly competent and methodical in his approach, and always goes the extra mile to get the job done, whatever it takes. It was him who had opened the grave of Albus Dumbledore to retrieve the broken Elder Wand. But if all of this isn't enough to convince you of his capabilities, perhaps you'll appreciate the assured reason for his commitment to this particular mission. Malfoy has a very good incentive to see through the success of this entire rescue operation — his fiancé, Hermione Granger is among those captured. If I know Malfoy at all, and I do know him quite a bit, I can say that he'll do whatever it takes to save her. Plus his family vaults might contain some things that the Snakes might be interested in, which could make our negotiations more effective," Ron finished making his case, hoping Martinez would understand.

After a long while Martinez relented. "Fine. Brief Mr. Malfoy about what we have discussed today, and forward my warnings to him. Do not leak any information, or you will face the consequences," he did not mince words at all.

Ron nodded and quickly left.

x-----x

Getting Draco onboard was a piece of cake. The blonde wizard had been itching to do something, but the hostage situation had tied everyone's hands. Malfoy had lashed several times out on everyone including the Ministers of Magic of UK and Ireland, which had got him several reprimands, but that hadn't stopped Malfoy one bit. When Ron told him about the MACUSA's plan, he gave an enthusiastic assent and muttered something along the lines of at least the Americans are good for something.

Ron explained the entire plan and told Draco to be ready. Based on the sharp awareness in Draco's eyes, Ron knew he was more than ready, in fact he must be scheming some of his own specialty blend of punishments for the Snakes. Watching the blonde ponce plotting something nefarious always brought him back to their school days, which made their present circumstances even more jarring. Ron couldn't help but wonder how things had turned around so drastically. The blonde wizard who had once been their school bully, was now a cherished friend. And not just a friend, he was the fiancé of Ron's ex-fiancé, and was fiercely protective of her. Shaking off the dizzying thoughts, Ron reiterated Martinez's warning for discretion to Draco who just shrugged them off.

Leaving the Slytherin to his own devices, Ron apparated to his own flat, where his lovely wife was waiting for him.

As he shattered in Luna's arms, his worries for his two best friends momentarily dulled, he wondered for the hundredth time since evening if the MACUSA's plan would be successful, and what would be the repercussions of failure.

x-----x

November 09, 2007

Elysium Hotel

Dublin, Ireland

Ron and Draco stood side by side in the shadows, as they watched the MACUSA's plan unfold right in front of them. They had brought Evelyn Smith - Ezra's mother, near the hotel and forced her to send a patronus to her son. The two aurors held their breath, standing side by side as they saw the first signs of the success of the Americans' plan. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, Ezra had sent a patronus back threatening the MACUSA if they hurt his family, they'll never see any hostage alive. Head Auror Martinez, undeterred, sent his own patronus stating that they had no plans to hurt the Smith family, however, if Ezra didn't help them, the Smiths will face the prospect of jail time, for aiding a potential terrorist. A lot of back-and-forth later, Ezra finally relented. Using darkness as a cover, he came out to meet with the aurors. He stayed well within the wards, so the aurors could not nab him. Ron saw Draco dart towards the group of aurors, and he held off the blonde with a stern shake of his head. This was not the time to be reckless. Nonetheless, the two of them subtly made their way towards the American aurors, to see if they could provide any assistance.

Ezra Smith was being kind of a dickhead. He refused to answer the aurors' questions honestly, even when he knew he had no cards to play. His family's safety was on the line. Frustrated with his blatant disregard in the face of authority, Draco asked the aurors if he could try something, promising them that he wouldn't hurt the little shit. When he got the go-ahead, he waved his wand in a complicated pattern at the dark wizard who stared back at him unflinchingly. When Draco was finished, there was no outward effect, but Ezra's eyes had widened as if he could feel that something was wrong, though no one else had a guess what that could be.

"Right. Now that that's out of the way, tell me a few things to set a baseline. What is your full name and date of birth?" Draco asked the wizard.

Ezra struggled a bit, his throat bobbing as he swallowed a few times, but then he relented.

"My name is Ezra George Smith. I was born on January 14, 1983," he answered in a robotic tone.

"Where did you go to school?" Draco continued.

"I attended the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After graduating, I attended the magical branch of the Benedictine University," the same monotonous voice answered.

"How many people are there in your family? State their full names and ages," Draco enquired a little harshly.

Ron and the American aurors watched confused as Ezra started shaking as he vied for control over his body and mind. That's when Draco waved his wand again in that same complicated pattern and yelled at Ezra to answer him.

Ezra lost whatever battle he was fighting with himself under the force of Draco's spell and told them about his family including his parents, his elder brother and sister-in-law, a set of twin teenage sister and brother and finally the youngest sister who was seven year old.

As the aurors listened with rapt attention, their eyes widened at the discovery of the Smith twins. Nobody knew about them or where they were, neither Ezra or his parents had talked about them.

"Where are they? Your twin sister and brother?" Auror Martinez asked.

A vein popped in Smith's forehead as he fought to overcome Draco's spell and hold his tongue, but he answered ultimately. "They are in Spain. They attend the Escuela de Excelencia Mágica de St. Mary in Madrid."

"Fine. Now that I know you're telling the truth, let's get down to business," Draco asked in a deadly calm tone. He called Ron over with a nod of his head.

The redhead was a little surprised at the gesture. Draco seemed to be in full control of the situation, but he still deferred to Ron for further questioning. Not willing to waste time trying to understand the strange action, Ron took over the interrogation with a nod at Auror Martinez.

"How many members of your group are present inside the building?" was his first question for Ezra.

"39 at the moment. There were originally 42, but three went back to our safe house to deal with an emergency."

"How many Inferi did you bring here?"

"At least a hundred," Ezra replied as the aurors groaned.

"Is there anyone injured inside the hotel? If yes, then how many and what is the extent of their injuries?"

"There are several people injured, most of them the aurors who made up the security detail. Many scuffles have broken out since we took them. Two aurors are dead —" there were many sharp intakes of breath. "— they were trying to be heroes, and got hurt in the crossfire. There are a few people who are suffering from magical exertion. Some have serious wounds and a few of them might require blood replenishing potions," Ezra replied.

"And where are the hostages located? Are all of them together?" Ron pressed for information.

"Most of them have been kept together in the ballroom of the hotel. Some of the more difficult ones including Potter and Granger have been housed separately in the third floor guest suites, with Inferi guarding the entrance to every room." Both Ron and Draco twitched at the mention of Harry and Hermione, but they kept their composure. Now was not the time to act brashly.

"All right, that gives us a lot of information to work with. Do you have any questions for him?" Ron asked Auror Martinez, who nodded.

"What other weapons does your group have apart from your wands and the Inferi?" Martinez asked the dark wizard.

"We have a small collection of magical creatures with highly potent venom including basilisks, manticores and a few others. The plan was to extract their venom as and when needed as the poison is the most potent when used fresh. But till now, we haven't needed them."

All the aurors were astonished at the level of preparations the Snakes had done. This was not an impulsive, opportunistic blitz, rather it had been planned well in advance. The thought led Draco to ask one last final question to the dark wizard.

"You couldn't have planned this entire attack without some inside help. Is there any mole in any of the Ministries? A dirty law enforcement officer perhaps?"

"Yes, we have many inside men in the British and Irish Ministries," Smith began as he started reciting a never-ending list of all the back-stabbing people working with the governments of the two countries.

By the time he was finished, Ezra was holding his head like he was in pain, while Draco looked a little worse for wear. The spell took a lot out of him, and he appeared to be suffering from magical exhaustion. Ron grabbed him by the wrist to support him, while the aurors gathered around Ezra Smith to explain to him the terms of their negotiations, and how he was to react when he goes back to the Snakes. He was threatened with dire consequences if he tries to alert his group about what had transpired today. Ron looked at Auror Martinez who simply nodded at him, a promise to talk later evident in his body language.

Ron led Draco to the nearest apparation point, from where he side-along apparated them both to Draco's temporary apartment in Dublin.

When they landed, Ron made Draco lie on the massive couch, while he threw rapid instructions to the young house elf who had followed it's master to the foreign country. As the elf set about caring for Malfoy, Ron took a breather.

It had been a long day, and it felt an even longer week. The dark purple shadows under his eyes were the testament to the exhaustion he had been feeling. The stress of the mission was exacerbated by the perpetual dread he had about the safety of his two best friends. He looked at Malfoy who was lying on the sofa with a hand covering his eyes. Ron knew Malfoy was just as worried about Hermione as he was. He hadn't become particularly close to Malfoy even when Hermione had started dating him. But at the moment, Ron felt a sense of connection with the blonde wizard because of their mutual worry for the curly-haired witch. While Ron had never liked the blonde ponce, even he could see that Malfoy loved Hermione more than he loved the Malfoy name.

As evident by the events of the evening, Malfoy was willing to do everything to get Hermione back safely. Suddenly, a question which had been nagging him since Smith's interrogation, resurfaced in Ron's mind.

"Malfoy, what was the spell you used on Smith? The bloke was being a total bellend till you hit him with the spell and then he babbled like a baby."

Malfoy, the dramatic princess that he was, pulled his hand away from his eyes with a Herculean effort, and replied in a swotty way, which was eerily similar to Hermione.

"If you must know Weasley, that spell was a modified version of the Imperius. It has a compulsion charm built in, which forces the victim to only tell the truth in response to whatever the caster asks. Kind of like a veritaserum in the form of a spell."

Ron's mouth dropped open upon hearing the explanation. The spell was so brilliant, and it's applications could be far-reaching, especially for law enforcement officers. The theory behind the spell was so ingenious that he wanted to know more. "How did you manage to do that? Combine the Imperius with a compulsion charm. Also, wouldn't a spell like this be technically illegal?"

"I don't know all that Weasley. Ask Hermione about the semantics after we've saved her. Stop bothering me, my head's killing me," Draco whined.

"Ah, so Hermione devised the spell. Of course she did. Foolish of me to expect such brilliance from you," Ron retorted smugly. Draco glared at him, and muttered under his breath.

Before either of them could say anything further, the silvery lynx patronus of Kingsley came bounding towards Ron and relayed the Minister's message in a loud, angry voice. "Weasley, meet me in the Irish Minister's office tomorrow sharp at 9 am. Bring Malfoy with you!" The Minister's voice was so shrill, he might as well have sent them a howler. Ron knew why Kingsley was so angry, the MACUSA must have relayed all the information that they had gathered that evening, and his and Malfoy's role in the events of the evening might have come out as well. Kingsley must have felt that Ron and Draco had gone behind his back, fueling his anger. Somehow Ron couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment. The safety of his friends was much more important to him than weathering the Minister's wrath.

He got up from the couch slowly, stretching his tired muscles. He glanced at the blonde lying on the couch and clutching his head in the most dramatic fashion. "Get your beauty sleep Malfoy. Tomorrow's going to be a long day of ass-kicking," he told the man.

"Whose ass will be kicked though?" asked Malfoy.

"I guess we'll find out tomorrow, won't we?" Ron replied and then flooed back to his home in England.

x-----x

November 10, 2007

Irish Ministry of Magic

Limerick, Ireland

Turns out, Ron and Draco were the first in line for the ass-kicking. Kingsley gave both of them an earful, and told them that if anything goes wrong in the mission because of their callousness, they'll be facing severe disciplinary action. After yelling at them for what felt like eternity, he finally calmed down enough to tell them that aurors from the MACUSA had called for a meeting at 11 am, to discuss the plan for the liberation of the group of witches and wizards who had been taken hostage. There were plans for a large-scale mobilization.

Ron shook off the nervous jitters and waited for the meeting by practicing dueling with Malfoy. They knew the time to battle the Snakes was on the horizon.

x-----x

Next Day, Midnight

The Elysium Hotel

Ron stood just outside the perimeter of wards surrounding the muggle hotel. He was decked out in full auror regalia, his wand clutched in his outstretched hand. Draco stood at his left, dressed similarly. They were a part of a much larger group – the rescue party consisting of aurors, law enforcement officers, ward breakers, researchers, healers, magizoologists, and other government workers from Ministries of the different countries whose citizens had been taken hostages. Together, the different Ministries had mobilized a large group of witches and wizards who were willing to fight a group of dark wizards, the Inferi and possibly, some other dark creatures. Their numbers were good on paper - capping off around 70, but their ability to duel and fight might get hindered due to the fact that the dark wizards were still holding on to the hostages, and could use them as human shields. Nonetheless, all the members of the rescue party had the plan of action drilled into brains and knew how to proceed ahead. The head of operations of this whole mission had been Auror Martinez, as the MACUSA had taken the lead in commandeering the mission. They all stood under a blanket of muggle repelling and disillusionment spells to conceal themselves from the muggles who were surely around the area.

With a signal from Auror Martinez, the mission began. Ron clutched his wand tighter, and he saw several other people doing the same. An old wizard with a wizened face came forward and placed a shiny little object on the ground, just at the edge of where the defensive and offensive wards put by the Snakes began. The tiny blue luminous object looked harmless enough, but Ron had heard of the immense power it supposedly contained. The old wizard waved his wand in a complicated pattern, and activated the object. With a loud sound, like a cracking whip, everyone knew the artifact was doing it's job. A group of wizards wearing deep magenta robes stepped forward and waved their wands in unison. Sparks of brilliant golden and azure burst forward and lit up the dark night. It was a beautiful sight, as if they were painting the sky in a synchronized symphony. The effect was instantaneous, with the object having weakened the wards to a significant degree, the ward breakers had no trouble in bringing down the multitude of wards around the buidling. The best thing was, the occupants of the buidling would have no idea that anything was wrong until it would be too late. As the wards came down with the grace of a samurai unsheathing their katana, the rescue party held their stance. A palpable ripple of nervous anticipation made the air thick.

When the last ward was broken, Auror Martinez gave the final signal. With that, the rescue party split into predetermined groups of 15 people. There were 5 total groups, with the last group – that being of Ron and Draco – having 10 people. Each group set towards the five entry points of the hotel.

Ron and Draco, along with their group moved towards the south-west side of the building, where a small door led to the kitchens of the hotel. They moved as quietly as possible. The instructions were clear – stun and bind anyone who was caught unaware, whether it was a potential hostage or any of the Snakes. They would be sorted later and dealt with accordingly. This was especially necessary for the muggles whose memories would need to be modified before they could be released. If anyone put up a fight though, they had to be neutralized with whatever means necessary. All the members of the rescue party had been given free reign to use whatever spells they wanted. Every bit of magic was to be used at their own discretion. All members of the rescue party had been equipped with hundreds of inoccous little single-use portkeys to transport all the rescued or captured people outside the hotel.

Ron took the lead in his group, moving quickly – calm, agile, alert. He checked rooms, closets, anywhere someone could be hiding. He found a small room – a pantry by the looks of it, and found three people wearing the hotel staff uniform lying unconscious on the floor. He quickly bound them and sent them to the control center outside the hotel via a portkey. He saw his fellow aurors find more unconscious staff, all of whom were quickly secured and sent away.

So far no Snakes or Inferi or any manner of dark creatures had made a appearance.

When they had surveyed their designated area, Ron sent a quick patronus to the control room to relay his group's progress. Then they quickly climbed the stairs to check the upper floor.

If all had been quiet downstairs, on this floor there was an raging chaos. People were engaged in duels left, right and center. Ron saw several people being held down by the the Inferi. Without missing a beat, he and his group members joined the fight.

Ron lost himself in the fray of the battle, his blood heating in his veins as his magic was channelized into deadly spells meant to hurt, but not kill. As he saw a hoard of Inferi joining pouring in from a door, he cast a modified version of the blasting curse – one he had seen Harry perform so many times on missions – on the oncoming Inferi who were promptly decapacitated. It resulted in a grotesque shower of rotted body parts all over the room, and he had to duck several times to avoid getting slapped in the face by a flying dead foot or something.

Ron lost all sense of time and space, as he glided from one room to another, no longer caring if he was with his group or not. He dodged curses and hexes, fired plenty of his own, bound and transported hostages, and deflected any curse which came too close to his fellow rescuers. All the while he kept looking for the two people who he wanted to see the most, his two best friends, for whom he had was fighting the dead and the living alike.

Suddenly, he felt a ripple of magic so strong, that he and quite a few other people stumbled on their feet. He looked around to spot whoever had casted the spell, but instead he found the Inferi that he had incapacitated were now reanimated, and were coming at the rescuers in droves. The Necromancer must have a casted another spell. He and his friends were now outnumbered once more. Ron felt his frustration boil over. He cast the refined blasting curse many times in quick succession, not waiting to see the results. Then he ordered the rescuers to get out of the room, as he secured the doors with a fortified locking charm, sealing the Inferi inside.

He did the same in several rooms and was able to liberate many hostages. By now, many of the other groups had merged with his, and they all worked together to save the hostages, apprehend the Snakes and kill any Inferi. Gradually, they covered almost all the areas and were now heading towards the ballroom – the area where they suspected the last of the hostages and the Snakes to be.

When the dwindling rescuers made their way to the ballroom, it was clear their last stand was going to be made here. There were only 7 seven Snakes remaining, but there were about 40 or so hostages all congregated in the center of the room, their hands and feet bond by invisible ropes, surrounded by the damned Inferi. The Snakes flanked the group of hostages from both sides.

Ron let his eyes run over the group, desperately searching for the two people who he was the most anxious to get to, when he felt Malfoy gasp beside him. He looked over to where Malfoy's attention was, and sure enough, there she was —

Hermione Granger was sitting right in the middle of the group of bound witches and wizards. She had somehow got a hand freed from her bindings and was using it to cradle a young witch who had a large gash on her leg and was obviously terrified. Hermione herself had several injuries and Ron knew each one of that would've been because of her efforts to save others before herself. He tried to catch Hermione's eyes, but she was busy consoling the witch beside her. It seemed she hadn't noticed him standing in the group of rescuers.

Ron looked some more till he found his other best friend, who was, in contrast, looking at him. Harry's green eyes met Ron's blue ones head on. Ron tried with all his might to convey to his best friend the only thing going on in his mind at the moment —

I'm here now. I'll save you.

As if hearing Ron's internal monologue, Harry nodded, his body relaxing from it's rigid stance, as if he trusted that he was safe now.

Perhaps it was that inherent trust, perhaps it was the injuries on Harry's face, perhaps it was the way Hermione was still trying to put others before herself, or a combination of it all – in that moment he didn't understand, but he didn't need to.

For in that moment, Ron felt all his exhaustion disappear, only to be replaced by a sense of responsibility for the safety of his two best friends. It was that feeling which inflamed his blood and flooded his veins with the adrenaline needed for him to finish the job.

When everybody – the Snakes and the rescuers – were at an impasse and didn't know what to do, Ron cast the first spell. He fired a sharp diffindo at the Inferi closest to Harry. The spell cut through the undead's bodies like a knife to butter. The group of 10 inferi fell like a jenga tower collapsing.

That set everyone off, and soon enough the two groups were once again engaged in a battle. The rescuers were finding it difficult take the Snakes head on because they were hiding behind the Inferi and the hostages. No matter how careful they were trying to be, rouge spells would reach the tied-up hostages, hurting them in the process.

Just when he was contemplating switching to hand-to-hand to specifically target the Snakes, he saw a wizard climb the stairs to the highest point in the ballroom. He was the same American wizard who had activated the artifact which had broken the wards on the building. The older wizard waved his wand in a complicated pattern, and a silvery-white sheen descended upon the room.

For a few seconds, there was no effect, but then a shrill scream pierced the air. Ron turned his head and saw that one of the hostages, whose hands were now untied, had smashed an ornate porcelain figurine over the head of one of the Snakes, who was now bleeding profusely. It set off another set of skirmishes, with the rescuers now unhindered by the fear of hitting the hostages.

Most of the hostages had moved out of the way when they realized that they were now free, but a few were now helping the rescuers any way they can.

Ron finally saw a sliver of hope which he hadn't felt through the entire freakshow of a night. Despite the nearly-endless Inferi, the rescuers were gaining the upper-hand as they were now being assisted by the hostages. The Snakes were thoroughly outnumbered. When they resorted to using the darkest of spells, the rescuers retaliated with a quite a few sinister ones of their own.

Suddenly the earth shook with another strong magical vibration and many people lost their footing. Ron saw that a tall man wearing the blackest of robes was waving his wand towards the ceiling in a repetitive fashion. He didn't know what that spell was, but he was sure the Snake was up to no good. So, without wasting a beat, he made his way towards the wizard, intending to disarm him and stop whatever spell he was about to cast.

Ron reached a respectable distance from the dark-robed wizard, took his stance, aimed his wand, and felt the spell leave his lips.

But then he felt all the blood in his veins freeze and a chill engulfed his entire body. The spell which had left his wand just moments before dissipated before his very eyes, ineffective and useless. Ron glanced at his wand in shock. He waved it around frantically, trying to produce a spell, a curse, a hex, anything, even a simple spark. But nothing worked. His wand was inefficacious, and his magic seemed to be reluctant to bend to his will. All around him, people were going through the same thing, waving around their wands maniacally in order to utilize their magic but they were as successful as Ron had been.

The uproars of outrage and of distress were soon turned into exclamations of horror as the Inferi closed ranks around the hostages and rescuers once more. But this time, the wizards and witches could do nothing but try to back off. Without their magic, the Inferi soon engulfed them in their undead arms, and there was no fighting them off. The good guys were completely at the mercy of the bad guys. Even the remaining Snakes were looking at their useless wands but they were certainly not being targeted by the Inferi.

The only person who still had access to their magic was the necromancer who was now waving his wand in a taunting manner, directing the Inferi to do his dirty bidding. He had soon rounded off the remaining hostages and rescuers into the center of the room and forced them to sit on their knees. He did not bother to bind them again — there was no point. Without their magic available to them, the witches and wizards were just as effective against the Inferi as the muggles were.

Ron looked around trying to locate his best friends. He saw Harry and Hermione sitting side by side, Harry giving her a one-arm hug, trying to protect her. He wasn't the only doing so though, during the commotion, Draco had made his way to her, and was now holding her hand tightly in his. Ron's heart clenched painfully at the tears flowing down her face and the stricken look on Harry's.

Since his attention had been on his two best friends, Ron missed the villain monologue the necromancer was letting out. He saw Auror Martinez engaging him, trying to divert his attention. But what would be the point? No matter if distracted the wizard was, he would still have the advantage over everyone because of the wand clutched in his hand and the magic flowing in his veins.

Even with their sheer numbers, the good guys couldn't do anything. There was no force greater in the Universe than magic. A magical being would always win over a non-magical one, such was the law of nature.

After all, what was more powerful than magic itself?

The answer came to him like a bludger to the head. The answer came to him in boisterous laugh and booming words of the man who almost became his father-in-law.

"These Americans, silly lot, the whole of them," Mr. Granger laughed as he fondly told Ron of his time in America, when he was a young lad himself. "They think the answer to all life's problems lies in front of the barrel of a loaded gun."

Mr. Granger polished the .45 Winchester Magnum pistol with the precision of a man who had done this thousands of time before. He stared at the gun for a long time, admiring its shiny surface and the sturdy feel of it in his hand.

Ron observed the man who treated him like a son. In a short time Mr. Granger had accepted him, even when the man thought Ron wasn't good enough for his daughter. He was a disciplined man, though the laugh lines around his eyes suggested that he was tender with his family.

"Although I've often wondered if a gun couldn't have been the answer to all you lot's problems," he said cryptically as he gifted Ron one of his most prized possession.

Ron's eyes widened as he now understood the words uttered so long ago by Hermione's father. He felt around in his robe pocket, feeling the reassuring weight of the pistol. He looked around and saw that several people were still locked in an argument with the necromancer, who seemed to be in love with the sound of his own voice.

He pulled out the gun from his pocket, keeping it hidden away in the folds of his robes, and got up slowly. Harry and Hermione obviously noticed him, but no one else paid him any attention, which he was grateful for.

As he made his way to the front of the room, the necromancer finally noticed him. The wizard turned towards Ron, his countenance overly confident and his posture relaxed. Ron saw a mocking smile on the man's face and it made him itch to slap it off.

When he was two feet away, the necromancer looked at him in interest. Ron stood to his full impressive height and looked the man in the eye. The necromancer raised his wand in Ron's direction, no doubt about to send a nasty curse his way.

Ron interrupted him before he could do so. "I want to tell you something," he told the dark wizard.

The man looked at him in amusement. "I'm all ears," he replied with an exaggerated gesture, cupping his hand over his ear.

"Greetings," Ron started as he pulled out the gun and took aim, "from William Granger," he finished as he took a precise shot at the man's head.

Time slowed down as the Ron watched the bullet fly towards the man's forehead in ultra-slow motion like in those cheesy muggle films Hermione had forced him to watch. It was probably less than fraction of a second, yet it felt like an eternity as the bullet finally met it target and lodged itself in the wizard's vulnerable flesh. The man's eyes widened as he felt the unfamiliar sensation of pain and shock because of the foreign object. Eventually, his body fell to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut off. His wand clattered to the floor and rolled over a few inches away.

Time righted itself as the huge room was filled with the inhuman screeching of a dozens and dozens of Inferi dying (yet again) as the magic keeping them animated ceased to exist. One by one, as all the Inferi fell to the ground, so did the gun from Ron's hand.

The remaining Snakes had no chance as even with their magic still inaccessible to them, the aurors easily overpowered them with their sheer numbers.

All around him, people were joyously embracing each other, but Ron only had eyes for two people. His best friends who were now making their way towards him, with the blonde menace supporting Harry's limping form. He met them the rest of the way, and had them engulfed in a group hug in no time.

Harry sighed a 'Took you long enough mate' while Hermione sobbed in his arms, his aurors robes clutched in her white knuckled grip. After a while, he noticed someone trying to get his attention.

Draco was trying to return him the pistol he had dropped, the barrel turned towards Ron's chest. "Woah the safety is still off!" he exclaimed, as he took the gun from Draco, amidst blank looks from his friends.

All of a sudden, a thunderous applause started as everyone in the room recognized the red-headed Auror as their Savior, the one who had used unconventional methods to save them from dark wizards. People shook his hands and thumped him on the shoulder. They sang his praises for his quick thinking and his bravery. His name was repeated multiple times in hushed voices and reverent tones.

A few years ago, the sight of so many people looking at him in adoration would have made him immensely proud at finally having the spotlight on him but he was not that wizard anymore.

As he exited the godforsaken hotel supporting Harry with Hermione and Draco following them, Ron Weasley knew that fame and name was secondary to what was most important to him.

Saving the two people who had always had his back had been his greatest accomplishment and he wouldn't change it for anything else in the world.

In the months that followed the highly publicized rescue operation of the wizards and witches from different countries, and the subsequent revelation of Ron Weasley's role in it, a new jingle spread like a wildfire through the British wizarding society, every tongue, young and old, singing it —

Weasley is our King

His spells sizzling

Sent the Snakes to dust

Rendering their plans bust

Weasley is our King

He had just the right thing

To make the Snakes run

The mighty muggle gun

Weasley is our King

He didn't let the necromancer win

Weasley always delivers

That's why he is our Savior.

Weasley is our King.