Mystical Silence

WHEN I heard the learn'd astronomer,

When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,

When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,

When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,

How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,

Till rising and gliding out I wander'd off by myself,

In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,

Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.

“When I heard the learn'd astronomer” by Walt Whitman

Chapter 1

A little more than a decade had passed since the demise of Voldemort. A war had been fought…a long, arduous war...one that ended because of a single man...who had the help of two others; a loud, boisterous male and a quiet, calculating female.

Since the end of that war, life had changed drastically; generally for the better. The magical governments had bestowed tributes, medals and honors on the trio who had destroyed the Dark enemy that had haunted England, and indeed, the rest of the globe.

There had been a few major changes…reforms in the lifestyle of house elves…the banning of the both the death penalty and the Dementor's Kiss. Cornelius Fudge had been mercilessly sacked by the political allies of the Order of the Phoenix, and generally, most Ministers were now made of sterner stuff than those who reigned when the twentieth century had been in its twilight years.

And there had been many minor changes.

The woman who had greatly aided in the endeavor to destroy Lord Voldemort vanished from the Wizarding world.

The red-haired boy who was no longer a boy became more reclusive, focused only on his one passion, and was perhaps, as some suggested, mentally damaged by the carnage he had witnessed.

And the dark-haired, green-eyed savior simply shrugged off his fame...and decided there was only one way to bring safety to the Wizarding and Muggle public. So he entered politics.

*~*~*~*

June 8, 2008

London, England

Harry Potter had his hands behind his back as he looked out the window and into the sunrise. As usual, one thought prevailed over all others in his mind. I hate this job. Sighing, he allowed himself to retreat into his memories of his younger days…or rather his memories of the one woman he wanted to see more than any other…

*Flashback*

"Hermione! You can't leave…not after," Harry gulped, "What...what...happened in the battle.”

“What, Harry? What happened in the battle?”

“I realized something…I'm in love with you. I always have been.”

Hermione shook her head. “No…you're not in love with me…not really.”

“Shouldn't I be the one to decide that?”

“Harry…you only think you're in love with me because I got hurt. I know you love me, but…you can't be in love with me.”

“Why can't I be? Because you're not good enough for me?”

“No, because you don't know what real love is.”

“I know what it is! I know…because I feel it every time I look at you. Every time that I see your eyes…hear your voice…feel your touch…every time that I'm with you.”

Hermione choked back the tears that threatened to fall.

Harry pleaded with her. “Please…just let me love you. If you don't love me, I'll understand. If you can look me in my eyes and say that you don't love me…I won't push it anymore…”

Hermione looked into his emerald eyes and told the biggest lie in her life. As she said the words she would forever regret, she could see his heart breaking, “I don't love you.”

She turned away from him as fast as she could and she left…left him, left Ron, left the entire wizarding world.

*Present*

If I had kept my ruddy trap shut, she'd probably be standing next to me right now…Harry thought.

The door opened, shattering Harry's reveries, and in stepped his Chief of Staff...Draco Malfoy.

Granted, ten years ago, they hated each other's guts...but Harry knew that if he were going to be the Minister of Magic it would be more beneficial to have Malfoy on his side. And wouldn't you know it...he was right.

"Good morning Mr. Minister, His Excellency and the Protector of Our Liberties," Malfoy drawled as he set a sheaf of papers on Harry's desk.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said good-naturedly as he looked over the scrolls of parchment Malfoy had presented to him, "You know that title was invented by Fudge."

"And you should employ it more often," Malfoy said as he sank into a plush chair in front of Harry's face, "It sounds...aristocratic...deserving of power."

"It sounds like I'm a pompous idiot."

"That too," Malfoy said, smiling wickedly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "How's Ginny been?" he inquired as he sat in his own chair and began skimming through the scrolls.

"Pregnant."

The scrolls of parchments dropped from Harry's suddenly limp hands and hit his desk. From there, they rolled off his desk and a few fell into Harry's lap.

He coughed. "Excuse me?"

"Pregnant," Malfoy said again, amusement at Harry's reaction glinting in his silver eyes.

Harry sighed, "Please tell me you're joking..."

Malfoy shook his head, "Sorry, Mr. Minister Sir...but it's official, in eight months or so, Mrs. Virginia Malfoy will give birth to a healthy heir to the coveted Malfoy Estate."

Harry sighed, "I fear for Ginny's sanity."

"And mine?"

He shrugged. “I could care less.”

"Gee, thanks, Harry," Malfoy smirked, "Now, are we going to get on with the Department of Mysteries reports, or what?"

Harry looked over the parchments, his emerald eyes locking with his chief of staff's, "Don't I pay you to go over them for me?"

“No,” Draco smirked. “You pay me to make you look good.”

"I see," Harry said with a small chuckle, "Then you're doing a decent job of it...my approval ratings' up another five ticks this week." He riffled through the Department reports and groaned, "Another sighting of your father?"

"Yes," Malfoy nodded his confirmation and have a sardonic snigger, "As if everyone didn't see him die in the fires of the Hell that the final battle became."

*~*~*~*

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, a dark plan was being formulated.

"It's impossible."

Lucius Malfoy's robes swirled as he turned to face the Death Eater who had just dared to speak. "Is it now, Nott?" he said, malice rushing rampantly from his lips.

Nott trembled under Malfoy's gaze, "Well...well...."

"Well?" Malfoy said, continuing to bore his eyes into the man's soul.

"Well, it's impossible!" Nott finally cried, rather pathetically at that.

Malfoy sneered, “Now why do you say that?”

“Well, getting there for one thing…where do you propose we get a rocket to take us? And then taking over the mines for another thing, we simply don't have resources to do so.”

“Why? Why am I surrounded by idiots?” Lucius muttered.

When no answers were forthcoming from his "army", or at least what was left after the final battle at Hogwarts eleven years ago, Malfoy simply shook his head. "You people forget...we have one thing in our favor." A sneer came across his face.

*~*~*~*

London, England (The muggle one…)

"Granger!"

The director of the European Space Agency…the young, demure, twenty-nine year old Hermione Granger sighed. Not again...

She immediately took off the Virtual Reality glasses and unhooked her portable strap-on keyboard from her arm. As she got to her feet, she removed the hard-drive, which was smaller than a hundred and fifty page paperback, from her pocket. As she placed the personal computer securely in her desk she made certain not to damage the infrared scanners that allowed the PC to work without wires attaching each piece together. Honestly, could this place run without her?

She opened the door to her office and hurried towards the elevator. Ever since she had temporarily relocated her office to the research labs for the Columbus Project, it seemed as though every time she had settled into running her calculations and checking with other sources on her e-books stored in her hard-drive that the voice alarm would go off...another problem for Hermione “Superwoman” Granger to solve...

She marveled at her position these days, How did I get here?

Twelve years ago, she had no background in muggle science aside from all the books she had read on the subject during her summers. Unbeknownst to most people, she had a deep fascination and passion with space, second only to magic. But when she left the wizard world, she ruled that out. So, she turned to her other love. Her only setback had been her lack of schooling in the subject, but she was determined.

After studying for a few weeks, she took the test for the equivalent to a diploma and passed with flying colors. After that, her parents asked their friend at Cambridge University to consider accepting Hermione as a student. The Cambridge officials had been rather skeptical of Hermione's scientific talent and requested that she take a test to measure her aptitude for and knowledge of the subject.

So she did...and her scores had been unprecedented for a woman with the proper education, let alone none. She was accepted immediately and four years later had graduated at the top of her class with offers from all over the world…which led to her unprecedented appointment at the agency...

The elevator doors swished open as soon as she had placed her palm on the reader, which flashed green, and she walked in with a sense of immense confidence. "Columbus Level Two," Hermione said crisply.

After a trip of a few seconds, the doors opened again; and she was greeted by the pasty white face of Wilhelm Hauser, E.S.A.'s deputy director. "All right, Bill, what's gone wrong this time?"

Bill nodded and he lead her around the busy work of the lab-coat attired Columbus workers, many of whom sat in the same position Hermione had been in while in her office. Reaching over with their right (or should they be left-handed, left) hands, to type furiously on the lightweight, thin keyboards on their opposite forearms, while reading whatever data they imputed on their virtual reality glasses.

"Um...vell, ve...um...seem...seem...seem to be...uh..." He fiddled with his VR glasses as he continued to stammer nervously.

In a quick move, Hermione snapped the VR glasses off Bill's face and put them over her own. Data streamed in front of her eyes, altering the three-dimensional images of the Columbus, which appeared to be only a quarter of a meter in front of her.

"Well, Bill, you're right," she said, "This is a problem."

"Dat is vhat I thought," Bill stated in his pronounced German accent as he nodded, sweat dripping from his forehead, "Vhat do ve do?"

Hermione laughed darkly. "'What do we do?' There's nothing we can do Bill...someone stole the L-3 transmutation scanners, and there's no way she's gonna go to the Moon without them."

Hermione turned to look at Bill as she took the glasses of her eyes. One of her patented glares was nearly enough to send the poor man to his knees, "It's really missing?" she said quietly, almost a threat in her words.

"Um...ja...d-dat vould appear to be...da...case..."

Never before in his adult life had Deputy Director Wilhelm Hauser wished that he was dead...but seeing the expression on Hermione's face was more than enough to make him want to crawl into a hole.

"Bill!" she finally exploded, "The only way to mine the ice - which I may add, is the only reason Columbus is going to fly - is if we have the L-3 scanners! Honestly! How did they just disappear? They're not the kind of things to disappear like that!"

Bill cowered slightly, "I.....I...dunno...the L-3s just...vanished...as if....b-by...magic."

The last thing he expected those words to do was cause Hermione Granger to look away from him and snap her attention around the building...but they did. After she had put Bill's VR glasses back on and hijacked his keyboard and hard-drive, she began rapidly inputting data into her computer.

For the first time in Bill's life, he heard Hermione Granger swear. Slowly, she took off the glasses and slipped them into her pocket. "Bill," she said slowly, "We're going to have to call the Minister."

"Of Defence?" Bill said, his voice still shaky.

"No," Hermione said as she turned around and stormed towards the elevator, only turning her head to say the last two words at Bill, "Of Magic."

As soon as Hermione had disappeared, Bill ran a clammy hand across his sweaty forehead. That makes sense... we'll just call the minister...of... “WHAT?!” he yelled the last part aloud.

In her office, Hermione crawled on her hands and knees and tossed some green powder into the fireplace, "Ministry of Magic," she said softly.

*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Please review and be sure to visit www.thehungersite.com and www.donationjunction.com to donate to charities with a single click…for free...each donation is paid for by sponsors with ad-banners on the site.

Chapter 2

By the year 2008, the Muggle world had changed drastically from the way it was upon Harry's graduation in 1996. Terrorists had attacked the World Trade Center in the United States, the Internet had expanded, and Europe had unified as a federal state under the moniker of the European Union.

Technology had drastically improved, with strides being taken in the sectors of virtual- and nano-technology. And three hundred thousand miles away, the discovery of polar ice on the Moon led to numerous international expeditions under the aegis of NASA or the European, Russian and Chinese space agencies. The selenian ice mines had given the world ample reason to begin preparation for an international lunar colony, which was to be supervised by the United Nations.

Despite these leaps forward in progress, the Muggle penchant for warfare and barbarianism had once again reared its ugly head. After the assassination of Russian President Vladimir Putin in early 2008, the military coupled with former key members of the old KGB took over the government in a violent coup d'etat. The Russians announced their intention to withdraw from the U.N., and began massing troops on the Iraqi and Afghan borders...threatening two nations that had been admitted into the North Atlantic Treaty Organization barely months before. Whether the Russians were making a blustery gamble or were seriously intending to make a war and force the rest of the planet to come was something only time could tell...

And it was to this world situation that a crisis was birthed on Columbus Level Two in London, England. It was a crisis that would turn every world, Muggle and Wizard, on its ear...

*~*~*~*~*

"Ministry of Magic," Hermione Granger said as she kneeled in front of the now green flames of her office fireplace. At first, she hadn't wanted to have a fireplace in her office, but now...she was grateful she did.

She reached a receptionist, “Hello, you've reached the Ministry of Magic. If you would like to make-”

“I need to talk to the Minister of Magic!”

“Do you have the required security clearance?”

Hermione shook her head, “Probably not, but-”

“Then I'm afraid I can't let you speak to him.”

“I'm Hermione Granger.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me, Miss?”

"Does the word 'Voldemort' ring a bell with you?" Hermione seethed, frustration beginning to take over her being. You'd think that people would still remember when you helped save the bloody world.

The receptionist's image in the fire actually paled slightly, "Y-You-Know-Who?"

"Yes," Hermione said sharply, "Lord Voldemort. I helped defeat him, and I am a personal friend of Harry James Potter." Or at least, I was. "And I need to speak to the Minister of Magic now."

Suddenly, the image in the fire changed as the receptionist was visibly pulled away. Her visage was replaced with a paler, masculine face with stormy gray eyes and platinum hair. Hermione gulped, it can't be! He can't be the Minister! Her mouth dropped to her chest. “Malfoy?!”

"Granger?" Malfoy said, his voice dripping of disbelief.

"What are you doing here?" they both exclaimed at the same time.

Hermione continued, “You can't be the Minister!”

Everybody's a bloody critic, he thought. "And I sure as Merlin am not," Malfoy countered, "The Minister's not here right now, and the receptionist called me down here because you kept harassing her.”

"I need to speak to the Minister!" Hermione said, her nostrils flaring with impatience, "I don't care who he is. There are traces of magic all over the Columbus, and he needs to know about it."

"The what?" Malfoy responded. She's finally lost it, I gather...

She swore. “I forgot! You guys don't know what the Columbus is.”

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. “Should we?”

“You didn't have to, but now you do.”

“What the heck are you talking about, Granger?! You're talking like some sort of… madwoman!”

Hermione sighed. “It's really complicated, Malfoy. I'm gonna need to come talk to you and the Minister in person.”

“I still don't understand. You're gone for over a decade and now all of a sudden you want to talk to Harry?”

“No, not Harry! The Minister!”

“Harry is the Minister, Granger!”

Her face paled and her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. “What?”

“Harry's the Minister now. Of course, you'd know that if you had bothered to keep in touch with anyone.”

“Well,” she muttered, “this complicates things a bit.”

Draco furrowed his brows in confusion, “It does?”

She exhaled sharply. “Just forget about it. Look, I need you to clear Harry's schedule for the rest of the day.” At Draco's look of disbelief she added, “This is more important. Trust me.”

“Trust you??”

“Yes! Trust me! I know you don't like me and all but this is a matter of life or death and I need you to work with me!”

“Life or death?”

“Yes. Now, I'll be over there in an hour and I'll explain everything better, okay? Just clear his schedule.”

Draco clenched and unclenched his jaw as though he didn't like what he was about to say but had to say it anyway. “Fine…but this better not be a waste of time, Granger!”

“It won't be!” she yelled back as her face disappeared in a rush of green flames.

Unfortunately, she thought as she pulled back into her office.

*~*~*~*~*

Draco Malfoy stormed into Harry's office, inadvertently slamming into Colin Creevey and ruining the picture of the British champion Chudley Cannons with the Minister of Magic.

Malfoy looked Harry directly in the eyes, locking his grey with Harry's green. "Finally, you're out of that bloody meeting! It's Granger. She called an hour ago. She's got some kinda crisis at the Muggle place she works and demands to speak to you."

Colin Creevey, whose personality had not changed much since his graduation from Hogwarts brightened at the possibility of getting more snapshots of Harry. Ignoring the rest of the Cannons, he snapped a perfect shot of Harry and Malfoy as Harry's jaw dropped. "The Prophet's gonna love this," he said, sniggering slightly.

Draco snapped at him, “You! Out! All of you get out of here!” The Cannons and Colin left the room, muttering under their breath.

As soon as the last Cannon left their sight, Harry asked, "Granger?! As in..."

A figure appeared in his doorway. "Hi, Harry."

Harry and Malfoy both did a double take.

"How'd you get around the wards?" Malfoy screamed, his composure lost for a moment, "We can't just let anyone waltz in here!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want me to go out and try again?" Hermione snapped at him.

Harry, meanwhile, had a utterly lost expression on his face. Then, without warning, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed to the ground...dead to the world.

Hermione sighed. “Well, that's not good.”

As soon as Harry had collapsed, dozes of Magical Law Enforcement Wizards Apparated into the Minister's office. A few Healers soon joined the rest and began working on Harry.

“Now look what you've done!” Draco said to Hermione.

Hermione sighed, "And this is my fault how? Honestly! If that's his reaction now, I'd hate to see what happens when I tell him the real news…”

"What," Malfoy said as he crossed his arms, sarcasm dripping from his words, "you're pregnant and he's," he jerked a thumb at the unconscious Harry, "the father?"

"Oh, please. That sort of thing only happens to you, Malfoy."

"For your information, I'm married!"

"Like that would change anything," Hermione cut her eyes to Malfoy, "So who's the unlucky lady?"

He smirked. "Ginny Weasley...or should I say, Malfoy?"

Hermione laughed and then cut her response short at the steely glare Harry's chief of staff was giving her, "You're joking."

"You wish."

Hermione sighed; the things that one misses when they flee from their world with the firm resolve never to come back. "And I suppose now you're going to say that she's pregnant as well."

He laughed. "As a matter of fact, I was."

Hermione suddenly had a yearning to take comfort in a soft plush chair...otherwise she was quite certain that she would be joining Harry in taking an unexpected snooze on the carpet.

Finally, the Healers peeled back, and the Minister of Magic stood up and carefully adjusted his glasses. I fight the Dark Lord in person and kill him with my own spell, I work with a former Slytherin, I've seen more terror than any wizard alive...and yet I have to faint when she walks in...

“Hi, Harry,” Hermione repeated.

"Um…eh…erm…hi.”

Smooth move Potter, his inner voice complimented sarcastically.

The two stared at each other silently as Draco forced the Healers and Enforcement Wizards from Harry's office. When everyone had left, Draco glanced at the two and said, "Excuse me, but wasn't there some sort of crisis we're supposed to be dealing with?"

"Uh, yes," Hermione looked down at the floor and then back into Harry's eyes. A resolve that had not been there before was now cemented across her visage. "Harry...a very valuable piece of technology was stolen from the E.S.A....and there were signs of Dark activity all around the building."

"Dark activity as in..." Harry replied.

"As in Dark magic, Harry," Hermione finished.

"Point, Granger?" Malfoy drawled, "There's Dark magic everywhere."

"Not at the E.S.A.," she fired back.

"Hold it!" Harry interrupted, "What's the E.S.A.?"

Hermione sighed. "The European Space Agency…I'm the Director there.”

“Space?!” Harry asked incredulously.

"What does this have to do with the Ministry?" Malfoy snarled, "And why does it require the attention of the Minister?"

"Because magic was used to steal a very important piece of technology which was highly classified."

"Again," Draco asked, "why is this such a big deal?"

"Because that piece of technology allows you to get to the moon without high-power rockets to get you out of the Earth's atmosphere!"

"And what," Harry said, slightly uncertain, "would Dark forces want with such a device?"

"We have a Selenian Ice Mining base on the moon with over 300 muggles working there...and 20 nuclear devices."

Harry's eyes blinked. "Why did Europe place twenty nuclear devices on the Moon?"

"It was the only way to get access to the Selenian Ice."

"Okay..." Harry said as he began to get really, really worried.

She continued, "The fact that there are nuclear devices on the moon was highly classified. No one outside of the E.S.A. or government knew about it...no one. See, we use small-scaled detonations to break through and forge actual mines. While it's the only way to do it, the public would panic if we released the information."

"This is ridiculous!" Malfoy snarled, his patience finally at an end. "Dark wizards don't need nukes!"

"They do if they wanted to create panic among muggles without revealing the fact that they're wizards,” she snapped.

Harry sighed. "Aren't we kind of jumping to conclusions here? There's no reason to suspect that they'll attack the mines."

Hermione sighed. "You don't understand Harry. If Dark wizards stole the L-3 scanners, there's no other logical place for them to go. The International Space Station isn't enough of a target...but the L-3 can allow them to get their hands on some easy nuclear weapons. I should know...I invented the bloody scanner."

"Well," Harry said, "Couldn't they just want to go to the moon and not the base?"

"For what, Harry? A sight-seeing tour?" Hermione replied.

Harry sighed. "Good point."

Draco interjected, "So what do we do about it?"

Hermione sighed, "That's what we need to figure out....but I think that the first thing we should do is get you guys to the E.S.A."

Malfoy shook his head. "No way. We're not taking the Minister anyplace where Dark magic has been around."

"Oh, for crying out loud…I defeated Voldemort, Draco! I'm not some sort of...china doll!"

Malfoy shook his head vehemently, causing his hair to tumble in front of his eyes. "No can do Potter. Your place is here. You're not some sixteen-year old cavalier anymore."

Hermione snapped at Draco, "Well, what else do you expect to do? Bring the E.S.A. here?!"

Malfoy looked over to Harry, his eyes narrowing. Harry looked at him for a second then shook his head.

"No."

"Merlin! Potter, you're the only wizard I can even think of who could possibly pull it off!" Draco snapped.

"Oh, come on, you guys! Malfoy, if you feel that uncomfortable about it, just bring some Aurors."

Draco asked, "Well, why do we even need to go to the E.S.A. in the first place?"

"Oh, I don't know...maybe because it's our technology that's gonna allow us to get to the moon?"

"Whoa! Hold it there! You never said anything about us going to the moon!" Malfoy exclaimed.

"And how do you suggest we stop them?!"

"I don't know!"

Hermione sighed. "Malfoy...are you a man or a ferret?"

"Well, I've been both."

"Merlin! Would you guys just stop?!" Harry interrupted. "Jeez...you're acting like we're back at Hogwarts!"

Both Hermione and Draco fell silent.

"Well, Harry," Hermione said roughly, as she turned to the Minister of Magic, "Here's my advice. Let's go there, get some people we can trust and solve this before it escalates. The only other option is to be Cornelius Fudge and let the crisis dictate to us."

Harry continued, “You're right, Hermione…but we need to work together, you guys, not argue. And as far as planning what we need to do, I know just the person for the job…”

hA/N: Calvin and I would like to thank our friend Leigh for helping us remember the word “Threshold”….THANK YOU!! And there is a quote from John F. Kennedy…slightly modified. Original quote: “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”

Chapter 3

"For of all sad words of tongue or pen,

The saddest are these: 'It might have been!'"

-John Greenleaf Whittier, "Maud Muller"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the aftermath of the Russian mobilization, the United States of America broke relations with the military/KGB-controlled government. This heightened tensions across the planet, even the best work of the United Nations and other global non-governmental organizations was not enough to pressure the Russians and Americans to stand down from their rapidly approaching stalemate.

In the magical world, these strains were also felt. The International Confederation of Wizards' general assembly broke into wild disarray when the American Minister of Magic and the Russian Magical Premier exchanged harsh words over the proper magical response to the crisis. Even the normally calming presence of Minister of Magic, Harry J. Potter, of the United Kingdom could not stop the Confederation from failing every resolution that would help to alleviate the crisis.

And on the Moon, twenty nuclear weapons were rapidly approaching their date with destiny.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Four moves to checkmate.

Well, what if he-

No, you have that covered.

Right. D'you reckon that-

No.

Okay.

Knight takes pawn.

Hit buzzer.

Smirk.

Ron Weasley leaned back in his chair and delivered his smirk (with at least some hint of sportsmanship in it, he preferred to retain his reputation as a nice guy around here).

His opponent of this game, world chess champion Dimitri Romanov, rubbed his nose as he looked at the sixty-four black and white squares on the chessboard. The rubbing of the nose was a nervous tick, something the sixty-six year old champ had picked up after over half a century of playing difficult and harrowing chess tournaments.

Finally, and with great reluctance, Romanov extended his index finger and knocked over his king.

"There is no way out. A very good gambit, Mr. Weasley."

Ron extended his arm to shake hands with the chess master for giving him a challenge - sort of - but in mid-move, a loud crash sounded in his ears. The doors flew open and a flurry of people filed into the room where the match was being held.

The flurry of people were all adorned in crisp black suits and ties, and confidently, they strode forward to Ron. The youngest male Weasley gulped, his fight-or-flight instinct starting to kick in…unfortunately, his instinct wasn't quite sure which of the two options would make him seem the most like a daft prat; and he remained motionless in his chair.

One man - a rather stocky fellow at that, Ron noted - stepped close to him and said, "Ronald Weasley?"

Gulping, he nodded his head. "Yes."

"Please come with us. Your presence has been requested."

Ron looked at Romanov, but the old man seemed just as shocked as Ron, as the ex-world's chess champion's mouth hung open like something akin to a gaping fish's.

Ron's throat, which was suddenly quite dry, managed to gurgle out only two words. "By whom?"

“The Minister,” replied the mysterious man as he stepped to the side in order to allow the young Weasley room to step forward.

Ron's grin was enough to power London. "Harry? Gor blimey, well, why didn't you just say so?"

The mysterious Hermes of sorts found that he didn't have a reply to that, so he merely motioned for Ron to leave with them.

Ron shrugged, gave a quick handshake to a dumfounded Romanov and strode out the door. Just as he approached the threshold, he heard an unmistakable "Obilviate!" from the room.

He'd better well remember that I beat him, or else I'll....do....something....dunno what though.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The young red-haired man confidently opened the door to Harry's office. Striding in, he said, "So, Harry, what do you need now?"

However, the face he expected to see wasn't there at the moment. Instead, he came face to face with a rather familiar brown-haired woman...one he hadn't seen since their final battle against Voldemort. "Blimey! Hermione, is that you?"

"Hi, Ron."

Hermione's face flushed with embarrassment as Ron strode over to her and gave a rather bone-crushing hug.

As Harry entered the room, Ron turned to him and shook his hand with a grip that was unseemly tight.

"So," Ron said with a wicked grin upon his visage. "What does the Minister's childhood mate need to do for the service of his Government?"

Laughing, Harry replied, "Ask not what your ministry can do for you, but what you can do for your ministry."

Ron sank into the plush chair in front of Harry's desk and smoothly placed his heels on the oak tabletop. "Well Potter," he mock-scolded, "Out with it!"

“Well," Harry began, "This time we need your help on a rather..." He paused, searching for the right word and glancing at Hermione in the process, "...complicated project."

Ron pursed his lips and pretended to moan, "Okay, I get it. So you want Malfoy to be your wedding coordinator and you didn't know how to tell me. It's all right...I know I was thinking purple and chartuse as bridal colors, but whatever you want is fine with me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes dangerously as she glared at Ron. "Ron!" she snapped irritably, "Now's not the time to make jokes! This is a life and death situation! People could die!"

For his part, Harry managed to keep a stoic face. However, as soon as Hermione had broken eye contact with Ron, he winked at his old friend.

Ron merely raised an eyebrow as he recognized the fact that Hermione hadn't really changed all that much. He was about to crack another joke before he decided that Hermione was right - as she often was. Now was most definitely not the time to be a comedian.. "I hadn't realized the situation was so volatile, but we can't panic, Hermione. There's always a solution. Now start from the beginning...what's the problem?"

Hermione answered Ron. "We've found traces of dark magic at a top-secret muggle laboratory."

Ron's eyes flashed with fear. "Dark magic?"

Harry grimaced and sat down at his desk as he remembered about his friend's struggle with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I forgot to tell Hermione! He himself had nearly forgotten about Ron's reaction to the final battle. How Voldemort had conjured those spiders all over Fred and George's bodies....as Ron was tied down, helpless. How Lucius had tried to...rape....Ginny before Harry had burst the door's hinges and saved her....

He sighed as the painful memories arose in his mind once more. A few more seconds and he would have been too late...he almost didn't want to think about what would of happened had Hermione not deciphered the riddle stating their location in time.

"Well," Harry said softly, using the soothing tones that the St. Mungo's Healers had advised him to use around Ron when dark magic was the topic of conversation, "Yes. But its okay, Ron. Remember, Voldemort's dead and Ginny's okay. Remember that."

Ron lowered his feet from the desk and began shifting from side to side in his seat.

Hermione caught Harry's eye, but as soon as green met brown, Harry scowled. Resentment and bile filled his throat. She has some bloody nerve just waltzing in here and expecting everything to be the same. I'll never forget how Ron bloody cried when I told him Hermione was gone...she didn't even bloody bother to see him.

Hermione looked back at Ron, who was now humming softly and clenching his fists. She moved over to him slowly and knelt down in front of him. She spoke in a soft voice like Harry did. "Hey...it's okay. We survived...we're still here..."

Ron's eyes began filling with water as he looked at Hermione. "I know...” He looked down and folded his hands together and then looked at Hermione, directly in the eyes. "But why did you leave me?"

At that moment Hermione Granger's heart broke.

"Oh, Ron...I'm so sorry," Hermione said as her eyes overflowed with tears. Unable to control her emotions, she reached up and pulled Ron into a hug. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you…."

Ron just looked down.

Harry slammed his palms on his desk and stood up. "Damn it, Hermione! See what you've done!"

"First, you said you never loved me," Harry seethed, frustration venting from every fiber of his being…frustration he hadn't even felt when Hermione had first walked in. The shock had finally melted away and now a burned layer of scarred emotions rose to the surface. "But then you just left. You didn't just leave me, Hermione! You left Ron, and Ginny, and Malfoy…and," Harry heaved a breath, "You probably don't even know that Dumbledore's dead do you?”

As Harry was yelling at her, Hermione had slowly pulled her arms away from Ron and stood up to face Harry. When he mentioned that Dumbledore was no longer alive, she sucked in a breath...she hadn't known.

Her voice came out in a whisper. "When?"

"Two years ago," Harry bit off the words, syllable by syllable.

Hermione closed her eyes as she slowly began to realize the full consequences of her actions. "I didn't know..."

"Of course not."

This came from Ron, who had managed to dry up enough of his tears that he could speak lucidly. "You left me."

Harry smiled wryly. “You know what kills me the most?”

Hermione remained silent as she awaited the answer.

"Even though you left us...all of us...we still missed you. We wanted you to come back, Hermione. Dumbledore wanted to see you again, you know. But you never gave him a chance..."

Hermione wanted to sink into a corner and cry. Her studies at Cambridge, at ESA, on the Columbus Project...they'd taken her mind off of the wizarding world.

But now….

Now...it all came flooding back.

She had tried to run away from it. She kept her professional life busy enough so that she would never have to face her past.

And now when she looked at an irate Harry and a saddened Ron, she found herself completely lost.

She sank down into one of the chairs and stared blankly at the floor.

Ron seemed to be somewhat better, as he smiled wanly. "Well, Harry, just like old times, eh?"

Harry said nothing in reply. He just stared silently at Hermione. He began to feel the familiar feeling of regret rise up in his chest and tightening it.

All three of them remained silent for a long and awkward moment.

Finally, Hermione spoke.

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?"

Chapter 5

We're only human, baby

We walk on broken ground.

We lose our way.

We come unwound.

*~*~*~*~*

The first Russian troops crossed the borders of Iraq and Afghanistan at twelve-seventeen General Morning Time.

Immediately, the Afghani and Iraqi forces rallied, but were quickly overwhelmed by the marching brigades of the Federation's crack armed forces. Pressed into a defensive corner, the native forces tried every trick of guerilla warfare in the book, but achieved no victory.

At a bitter meeting at the United Nations Security Council, the United States' Ambassador bitterly denounced the policies of the "unelected, tyrannical, and quite appallingly inhumane Russian Federation”.

World war, it seemed, was only mere days, if not less, away.

But a deeper threat laid unnoticed...a threat that would quite soon be made apparent to the world, both Muggle and Wizard.

*~*~*~*~*

"Well then," Harry said, "I suppose I'll just take the bed."

"Excuse me?" Hermione was the picture of indigence, "You said that I was going to have the bed!"

"You said you'd take the floor."

"I did not. As far as I know, we never discussed the sleeping arrangements!"

"Yes, we did."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Harry, we were in the middle of discussing national security when the sleeping arrangements were PASSINGLY referenced!"

“Right and you said you'd take the floor.”

"Harry, why are you being such a bas-"

Hermione immediately flung a hand over her mouth, appalled at the words she had just started to speak about the man who was - had - been her best friend.

Harry scoffed a little in disbelief before he fired back, “Why are you acting like you're still my best friend?”

Hermione stammered, “I…um....”

“You left us, Hermione! I haven't seen or heard from you since we left school and now, all of a sudden, you're back expecting me to greet you with open arms? That's not gonna happen, Hermione. I don't even know who you are anymore…how do you expect me to trust you?”

"I...well...I..."

"Don't have anything to say," Harry said as he looked at Hermione with a piercing glare. "Good night, Hermione."

"Harry-"

Harry made his way to the bed and slipped beneath the covers. As Hermione watched, she couldn't help but snigger.

"What is it?"

"Harry, you're still in your clothes."

"What? And I suppose you just happened to bring your pajamas here?"

Hermione gave a small grin and Harry's jaw dropped.

"Harry," she said, as she flashed him a sharp grin, "sometimes it pays to be an over-prepared know-it-all."

"Bugger," Harry replied.

"I'll just change in the bathroom," and she narrowed her eyes at Harry, "I still will get the bed, Mr. Minister."

"Well, I'm not leaving the bed so it's both of us or the floor," Harry replied.

Hermione simply raised her eyebrows and turned to walk to the bathroom.

Harry leaned back his head against the pillow and sighed contentedly, vaguely registering the sound of a door opening a few minutes later. However, he woke up fully when he felt movement on the bed next to him.

"I'm sleeping on the bed Potter, like it or not."

"But-"

"Harry, come on, we're both adults here."

Harry barely managed to squeak out a "So?"

"So, we're perfectly capable of sleeping on the same bed without taking it the wrong way. Plus, this is a King size bed and there's plenty of room for the both of us," Hermione remarked in her usual logical way.

Harry tried his protest, "Hermione, we haven't seen each other in a decade. We're, we're...almost strangers."

Hermione's face remained stoical, but Harry noticed that her eyes revealed a tinge of hurt and regret.

He sighed, "Like it or not, Hermione, it's the truth. You remember what you said to me the last day we saw each other?"

Hermione shifted her gaze to the bed sheet showing her obvious discomfort.

"You said you didn't love me..."

Hermione closed her eyes as she fought back her tears. "I know..."

"As do I...Hermione, you broke my heart that day and then, you just left." Harry looked at Hermione and sighed as he continued, "Which is kind of why I'm a bit uncomfortable sharing a bed with you right now."

"I didn't think I could take seeing you again," Hermione answered. "Harry, have you ever told a lie so big....it changed your whole life?" Hermione looked away. "Never mind, don't answer that. I'll just...sleep on the floor." She pulled herself out of the bed and murmured, "It's obvious that I'm the one who shouldn't even be here anyway."

"Hermione...don't say that." Harry reached out to grab her arm, but she shook him off.

"Make up your mind, Harry. Do you want me here or not?"

"Well, I-" Harry started before he suddenly realized something.

Hermione smiled sadly. "That's what I thought."

"No," Harry answered, "you didn't let me finish. I...still love you, Hermione."

“What?” Hermione asked, confused by this turn of events.

"I still love you. Fact is, I never stopped," Harry answered.

Hermione's eyes opened and her heart began to race as she listened to Harry.

"Hermione...I don't know who you are anymore," he continued, "But if you're still a bushy-haired, buck-toothed, know-it-all, I still love you."

Hermione felt the tears stinging her eyes. “I'm not buck-toothed anymore…”

"And you know what I think?" Harry continued, ignoring her statement. "I think you ran away because you love me too."

"Why are you doing this, Harry?"

Harry moved his face closer to hers, "Because I love you."

Again, Hermione smiled sadly as she pulled away from him. "I think I'll sleep on the floor."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because I don't think you know what you want right now, Harry. You said that you couldn't trust me...so I don't know how you could possibly love me."

Harry didn't answer so Hermione said, "Good night."

Harry got up slowly and made his way to the floor.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, from the other side of the bed, where she was stretched out on the carpet.

"I don't feel like sleeping in the bed anymore."

The next morning…

The unmistakable sound of knuckles rapping on a door caused Harry's eyes to flutter open.

Ugh, what time is it? Harry wondered as he rubbed his eyes. And why in Merlin's name does my back hurt so much??

The knock on the door sounded again, along with the sound of a voice. “Potter! Granger! Are you up yet?”

Granger? Harry's mind reeled for a moment before he remembered yesterday's events.

A feminine voice sounded, "We are now…thanks to you, Malfoy."

More knocking…"Good Merlin! You two didn't spend the entire night at each other's throats did you?"

"Urgh," Hermione said as she stood up to get the door, "no, more like we spent it on the floor."

Outside the door, Ron and Malfoy shared a double take with each other.

Finally, Ron asked, "With each other?"

Harry wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to say to that, as the cobwebs were still quite controlling his mind at the moment. He never had been an early riser.

Hermione, on the other hand, had some idea as she opened the door quickly to glare at the two men standing there. "Ronald Bilius Weasley! Who do you take me for? Parvati?"

Ron snickered at her comment, "Well, I haven't seen you for a decade...scarlet woman!"

Hermione couldn't help laughing at that.

Malfoy interrupted. "I hate to break up this sweet reunion, but we have a major crisis to deal with, remember?"

At this point, Harry was standing up and running his hand through his hair while trying to wake up. "What's the latest, Malfoy? Has the Ministry been secured yet?" he asked.

"No." Malfoy sighed and ran a hand through his unruly platinum hair, "Harry, they left behind a bunch of time-delay jinxes. The place is a war zone. Tonks wants you to say here while the Aurors clean the place up."

"Time-delay jinxes?" Ron asked.

"The magical equivalent to a time bomb," Hermione supplied, "After a certain period of time, days, seconds, millennia, whatever…the jinx goes off...spraying its magic, nominally Dark all over a small area."

"Oh," Ron deadpanned. "Well, that's really not good, is it?"

"So what am I bloody supposed to do right now?" Harry asked Malfoy, suddenly awake.

"Stay here and we'll connect via secure Floo to the national security council."

Malfoy's eyes searched Hermione for a few seconds, before he spoke again, "They may want to listen to what Granger has."

Harry threw a glance to Hermione before asking, "Are you sure? I mean..."

"Potter, I don't like her any more than you do right now, but she might have something worthwhile to say."

Hermione tried to scowl at Malfoy, but found that it was difficult...she did deserve some - well, all of them, really - of the responses she was receiving from her former mates...and enemies.

"What about the...you know..."

"We'll bring her in after we discuss it."

Harry sighed and looked at the floor for a moment before he looked up and said, "All right."

Malfoy nodded. "Good, I'll have the Floo set up immediately. Potter, come with me, and...Granger...wait here with Weasley."

"Err, Malfoy?" Harry said.

"What?"

"Mind if I take a shower first?"

"You're the Minister of Magic and this is a crisis situation," Draco said, his lips curling downwards in a disapproving gesture.

"And you'll be working by my side all day," Harry answered. "Are you sure you don't want me to?"

"That's a good point," Malfoy answered. "All right...go take a shower, but for the love of Merlin, hurry!"

Harry disappeared into the next room while the three of them remained. Ron was staring at Malfoy, until finally Draco said testily, "What, Weasley?"

"You took a 30-minute shower this morning....I heard it."

"Your point being...?"

Ron raised his eyebrows and glanced at Hermione, but said nothing else.

Malfoy scowled and turned his attention to Hermione, "What happened with Potter last night?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but nothing."

Malfoy shook his head, "Nothing like that, Granger. I meant, did Potter cave in and tell you?" Harry's chief of staff gave a wicked grin. "You don't know how long he's denied himself any other women because of you, how much he talks about you still…it's pathetic."

Hermione seemed shocked - and a bit flattered - to learn of this information, but she managed to compose herself.

Malfoy continued, "He practically worships you, Granger. There's days when he absolutely hates you because of what you did to him...but he's never quite given up on you. And only Merlin knows why."

Hermione's heart was beating a furious pace and her mouth dropped open slightly as she listened to Malfoy explain to her the extent of Harry's feelings for her.

He finished with, "Just don't lead him on, Granger, I may not like Potter all that much, but even I felt pity at what he was like when you left."

With that, the door opened, and Harry walked out of his room, whistling softly under his breath.

"There you are, Potter," Malfoy drawled. "Enjoy your shower?"

"Tremendously, Ferret,” Harry replied sarcastically. “Now quit stalling, let's go."

They walked into Malfoy's room, Harry's long strides allowing him to beat Draco to the door.

"Ron," Hermione said softly, wheeling around to face her red-headed best friend, "Is that, is that...true?"

"Yeah..." Ron replied, looking straight at her, "yeah, it is. I hope you're happy now." With that, Ron left for his room, leaving Hermione alone.

Softly, Hermione began to sob as she realized just how much she had hurt her friends by leaving. Her legs slowly slipped beneath her as she collapsed and leaned against the wall while still crying.

*~*~*~*~*

"So the theorems are safe?" Harry's eyes bored into the Flooed image of the boardroom of the National Security Council.

"The actual theorems are, yes," was the answer.

"But our security was breached. How?"

"We believe there was a mole involved."

Harry Potter wasn't much for the use of vulgar language, a trait ingrained to his soul by Hermione Granger, but he used a string of such words when that sentence was uttered.

Finally, he asked, "Do we know who yet?"

“No, sir, we have no idea.”

Harry thought for a second, thinking over their conversation when he realized something. “Wait a second, you said that the actual Theorems were intact….what about the-”

“I'm afraid it's missing, sir.”

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