Chapter 4
"Mankind must put an end to war, or war will put an end to mankind."
-John Fitzgerald Kennedy
*~*~*~*
Crises bring out the radicals and reactionaries of mankind, especially now - the pending world war between the United States and the Russian Federation over the future of the Middle East brought protests to the streets of both sides. In America, the Homeland Security Department ruthlessly crushed the more violent of the affairs, considering the protestors to be a threat to the national security of the United States. The President's decisive action won him crusaders and admirers, but just as many foes and archenemies. In Russia, protests were all dealt alike. The sitting government in Moscow cracked down on protestors with the Russian military. The dead in the streets may have earned the Russians an anti-Federation sentiment across the globe, but dictators care little for such trivialities as world opinion.
And the magical world remained just as divided as the Muggle.
*~*~*~*~*
"Oh Merlin-Harry-I-oh God," Hermione stammered.
For the know-it-all bookworm that was Hermione Granger, it wasn't often that she found herself unable to verbalize a thought; but with everything hitting her at once, she was barely able to control her own emotions. There was anger, fear, joy, pity, envy...
And, most of all, regret.
"I don't know to say…"
Harry looked at her, the fury in his eyes having lessened, but they were still cold, detached. "Is that all you can come up with?"
Hermione bit her lip, and blinked her eyes, trying to stop the tears from cascading down her face. She was stronger than this. She was not going to cry. She had a mission.
"I mean....come on, Hermione! You left us. Never wrote us. And you expect us to welcome you with open arms?!" Harry said, his voice laced with pain.
As Harry voiced his emotions, something clicked inside Hermione and she regained her confidence, quickly becoming the strong-willed woman she had always been.
"No, I never expected that, Harry...but neither did I expect this! But that's not the point right now and you know it!"
Ron blinked, moving his eyes cautiously between his two friends. Normally, such talk had been reserved for Hermione and himself...he'd always thought some of it was rather the result of romantic tension (to borrow a term from "Witch Weekly", which Ron never actually read, but just saw an open page of once on Ginny's bed. Honest!).
But there was no doubt in Ron's mind that now, Harry and Hermione could both suffer massive mental breakdowns as the result of their current vein of conversation.
And one of us being crazy is bloody well enough, Ron told himself decidedly, as he steeled himself to act.
Harry and Hermione had continued to shout at each other as Ron was organizing his thoughts.
Finally, Ron spoke, "Um, mates…"
"-you damn well had better!"
"….mates…"
"Harry James Potter! You will not-"
"MATES!!!"
His two best friends abruptly turned to look at him. "Shut up, Ron!" two voices rang out. They then turned back to each other and proceeded with their argument.
Meekly, Ron leaned back into his chair. Then he noticed water forming in his eyes. Then he felt water dripping down his face. Then he realized he was crying.
Hermione quickly glanced at Ron in the midst of her shouting. As she did so, she noticed the trail of tears running down Ron's cheeks.
Hesitantly, Ron made eye contact with her, his vision still blurred. "Mates...?" he repeated once more, his voice trailing off into a wisp of breath.
Hermione closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. "Oh, Ron. I'm sorry." She glanced at Harry as she continued. "We shouldn't have lost control like that."
Harry muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Merlin right you shouldn't have," but managed, just barely, to compose his facial features into a gentler gaze.
Hermione threw a sharp look to Harry. "I heard that…I'll deal with you later."
Harry just stared daggers at her. "We're not in school anymore, Little Miss Head Girl," he said coldly.
Ron lost control. "Just stop it! Both of you!!"
After this outburst Ron's head flung down between his legs and he held it, sobbing loudly.
Harry and Hermione stopped. They looked at each other. Then back at Ron.
"Oh, bloody hell," Harry said softly, looking down at his feet.
"Crud," Hermione whispered, "we did it again."
"As always," Harry muttered under his breath.
Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, threw a glare to Harry, but said nothing.
At that moment, Draco Malfoy barged through the door.
"Mr. Minister! Mr. Minister!"
Harry turned to Draco. "What?"
"Hit the Apparation alarms. Get out! We need to get out!"
Ron's head suddenly jerked up in fear as Draco grabbed him. Hermione simply said, "Crud! I knew it!" Harry's hand reached out in a smooth, graceful motion and grabbed Hermione before he punched the apparation alarms.
As the world faded around him, Harry had a sudden thought. "Where in Merlin's name do the Apparation alarms go?"
His answer was answered immediately as his vision cleared to reveal that they were in a hotel room.
"Malfoy!" Harry shouted, his demeanor immediately shifting from Harry Potter, the Boy Who Wants to Throttle His Friend, to Harry Potter, Minister of Magic for the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.
Hermione interrupted. "Where the heck are we?"
Ron gulped. "Why did we leave?"
Malfoy cleared his throat. "If you would just let me talk..."
"Go ahead," Harry said, gesturing for Malfoy to begin. "What's going on?"
"Now that I have the floor..." Draco remarked dryly, "We had a breach in security. Our sensors detected the presence of Death Eaters."
Harry shook his head, "That's impossible. Remus and I cleared this country of the last remaining Death Eaters five years ago. All of our intelligence suggests their holing up in Sierra Leone and Liberia.
"And for that matter, they're so dispersed that there's no way they could summon the magic to build a Portkey for next door, let alone get to England."
Hermione cleared her throat. "Or so we were led to believe."
"This is my story, Granger. Sod off."
Hermione glared at Draco. "Then get to the bloody point."
With that, Malfoy took a shimmering silver sphere from his robes. "These are the recordings via the surveillance charms we place around the Ministry of Magic."
"Right," Harry replied, listening intently.
"We picked up three separate Apparations in the three executive areas of the Ministry. Alastor managed to subdue the one headed for your office, but...Severus was not quite so lucky."
Alarmed, Harry asked sharply, "What happened to him?"
"He's, uh…dead."
"Good Merlin! Did they," Harry looked over at Hermione and Ron quickly, "Did they, err, get into the-"
"No, Nymphadora stopped them."
"Good."
Ron jumped in. "Get into the what?"
"None of your business, Weasel," Malfoy snapped.
"You still haven't answered where we are yet," Hermione pointed out.
"Oh, for crying out loud! Can't a guy answer one freaking question at a time around here?"
"No," all three of them answered immediately.
"Right. Of course. Why should that ever happen?"
"Just answer the question, Malfoy. Enough humor. We already have one person dead."
Harry's voice was calm, cold...but somehow he sounded stronger, in charge at the same time.
Malfoy's steel gray eyes found Harry's inquisitive emerald eyes as he answered. "All three Death Eaters escaped."
"Sweet Merlin," the words barely escaped Harry's lips, but they left them nonetheless. All three had escaped? From the Ministry? Was that even possible?
"And where are we?" Hermione countered.
"We're on a secure island north of Ireland. Are you happy now?" Draco snapped.
"In a hotel room?"
"Three hotel rooms," Malfoy grinned, "And we ain't going back until we get the all clear."
"Three hotel rooms?" Hermione asked, "For how many people?"
Malfoy looked around and then blinked, "For, uh, four."
"I'm going to get my own room, right?" Ron asked, with an apprehensive look on his face.
"And, of course," Malfoy said, "so will I."
"Right," Harry said immediately, "Of course. It would only make sense that we each-"
"Harry," Hermione broke in.
"What?"
"There's only three rooms."
Harry looked back, only to see the receding backs of Malfoy and Ron as they sniggered their way towards the door.
"Right then..." he said as he looked at Hermione, "um…guess we're sharing a room."
"Harry, no, that wouldn't be…wise…especially after what just-"
"Happened?" Harry answered for her, nodding his head.
A few minutes passed back in awkward silence. Finally, Harry spoke, "Look, we're both adults here and I can sleep on the floor."
"No," Hermione shook her head, "I'll sleep on the floor. I'm used to sleeping in my office at ESA."
Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped when two figures came in the door.
"You said there were three Apparations right?"
"Yeah...I did," Draco replied.
"Three Apparations...but that doesn't necessarily mean three Death Eaters."
"Of course!" Hermione said immediately, "How could we have missed it?!"
Ron looked to Harry. "What were you worried about them getting into?"
"That's...confidential," Harry said slowly.
"Oh, please," Hermione interjected, "I'm pretty sure we crossed that line awhile ago."
Harry sighed and then looked over to Malfoy who gave him a short, crisp nod, "Fine. The Ministry broke the light-speed barrier. We hid the arithmetic theory in three seperate areas of the Ministry building, each guarded by a different wing of the magical government."
"Wait a second," Hermione interrupted, "that doesn't make any sense. There's no point in using light speed to get to the Moon, which is where the Death Eaters want to go in the first place. It only takes 3 days to get there without light speed. If you use light speed, you'd most likely overshoot the Moon by about 40 days before you could turn it off again."
Malfoy looked at Hermione and narrowed his eyes. "You're right, Granger, and we'll leave it at that."
"What?" Ron asked in shock, "Leave it at that??"
Harry looked his friend in the eye, "For once I agree with Malfoy. Ron, I've told you about this before, when our national security is at stake, I cannot divulge certain information."
Hermione forced Harry against a wall, her eyes blazing. "Harry James Potter, we are the only people you can trust right now, period. If you don't tell us, do you mind telling me who the hell you will tell?"
Harry's words were as cold as his gaze, "Nobody Hermione. There's nobody I can tell."
"Oh, I see," Hermione retorted, her voice just as cold as his. "Well then, wise guy, what are you going to do to save the wizarding world all by yourself? If memory serves, you had help in your defeating Voldemort, isn't that right?"
"This is bigger than Voldemort, Hermione. Now let's just go to bed."
Then Hermione did something she had only done once before back in her third year...she slapped him. "You're damn right this is bigger than Voldemort! And that's exactly why you need our help, you bloody idiot!"
Harry reeled from the slap but held his ground. "Hermione, you haven't been part of this world for a decade. Things have changed. I am not just a seventeen-year body with broken glasses, I am the Minister of Magic, and there are some things that are better left to the Unspeakables and those who have the proper security clearances."
Hermione shot right back, "Right…and I suppose that they have the "security clearance" to get access to the Moon as well?"
Malfoy finally jumped into the conversation, figuring he'd better before Harry and Hermione killed each other. "Harry, she's got a point there. You and I both know that no wizard has ever been able to apparate into space."
"Malfoy, you know the drill. Magical Britain's security relies on the theories and their uses remaining as quiet as possible. With all the curses and charms I'm under, I couldn't divulge the information if I wanted to."
"Potter," Malfoy said calmly, "you do realize that I'm the only one who can take those curses and charms off, right?"
"Malfoy, you realize I wouldn't talk, and if you take those charms off I'll have you in front of the Wizengamot faster than you can say 'Voldemort'."
"Err...Harry?" Ron said. "I'm pretty sure that this situation calls for a bit of rule-breaking."
Harry's gaze was similar to the same one he had given Voldemort right before he had shouted the Killing Curse with all of his strength and power and fury. "Ron, there's things that you don't want to know. Now, let's go to bed until the alert ends and we can head back to the Ministry."
Malfoy and Ron exchanged a look, both knowing that this was one argument they weren't going to win. Sighing in defeat, they turned and left the room.
An awkward silence filled the room immediately following the weasel and ferret's departure. Harry shifted his weight as he bounced lightly on the heels of his feet. "Well," he finally said to Hermione, "aren't you going to leave?"
"I can't, Harry," she replied dumbly, "there are only three rooms, remember?"