A/N: First - and as always - big thanks to CC for cleaning this one up for me. My canon Queen has kept me afloat again J
A few points to note: First , and most importantly, there's a magical plant in here I borrowed from another fic. The entire idea of grapevines being enchanted to either give or receive communication is based on Lori's use of them in PoU.
Second: there is a HUGE, and I mean gaping black hole, of a spot for a cookie between two of our shippers here. I may or may not be inspired to write it later. If I do, it will obviously fall in the NC-17 range-If it comes to fruition look for it in my "cookie jar" on the Yahoo site.
Third: There is a (what I hope is a classic) VLeigh action scene here. I hope you enjoy it!
Last: Quite a bit will be revealed? Or will it be brought into question? I'm not sure, but the chapter title seemed fitting….It's obviously from Julius Ceaser.
VL
Chapter 16 - Et' Tu Brute?
George looked at his watch anxiously awaiting his brother. In truth, his mind was not entirely focused on the task at hand. "Was this all the intelligence Riley was able to gather?" Arthur Weasley asked as his eyes floated over the scrolls of parchment laid out on the kitchen table.
"Yes," Severus Snape replied flatly.
Most of the members of the Order were assembled at Grimmauld Place for a briefing. "Operation Ferret" was scheduled for this evening and they decided to eat a meal together while they finalized their last minute plans. Molly was flitting about in the kitchen, generally mumbling to herself while making dinner. Arthur, Dumbledore, Snape, Mad-Eye, and George were already reviewing the plans they'd established thus far.
Parchments were spread along the table showing the floor plans of Malfoy Manor; glowing in different colors to denote security wards. While they looked at the drawings before them, George conjured a simulation model that hovered above the table. It spun slowly so that all members of the assault team could get a panoramic view of their target.
"This intel is accurate as of four hours ago," George affirmed. "Riley has outdone himself this time." George waved his wand over the simulation and readjusted the security wards to coincide with the latest information. He studied it carefully, inspecting the spinning apparition for anything he might've missed. At the mention of Riley's name Mad-Eye grumbled aloud and stalked off for the kitchen. He might've been the best, if not the only, source the Order had high enough in the Ministry to get the information they needed. But Mad-Eye was still weary of any snitch he hadn't met - and questioned thoroughly.
"Dinner is almost ready," Molly said as she stood in the doorway, seemingly mesmerized by George's activity. "Who are we missing?"
"Remus, Tonks, and Fred," Arthur replied. "Minerva is filling in for Albus at Hogwarts." He looked between his watch and the hallway leading to the front entrance. He looked to George questioningly and asked, "Where is your brother, George?"
George hesitated noticeably and then buried his eyes in the parchment before him. "He'll be along shortly."
"George?" Molly asked warningly.
"What?" he replied with manufactured innocence.
"Where is your brother?" The tone of her voice clearly demanded a truthful answer.
"Well, er- he," George fumbled over the words.
"He's right here," Fred said as he walked quietly into the room from the entrance hall. He gave his mother a short hug and took his place next to George, studying the simulation as it turned.
"Never mind, I don't want to know," Molly replied exasperatedly as she returned to the kitchen.
"That's well put," George muttered quietly to Fred. They broke into identical grins, which quickly slid from their faces as they locked eyes with their father. Fred cleared his throat loudly.
"So what did I miss?"
"Nothing yet," Moody growled as he walked back into the room. He commandeered an upholstered chair sitting unobtrusively in a dark corner of the room. George wasn't sure if it was his generally amiable demeanor or the fact the firelight cast a single beam of light across his eyes - effectively making his magical eye glow ominously - but something about Mad-Eye always seemed more sinister than friendly. He, for one, was happy Mad-Eye was on the Order's side.
"Clear off that table," Molly bellowed from the kitchen. "We have plenty of time to talk strategy after we eat." The men assembled around the table did as instructed. With a wave of his wand George sent the simulation floating lazily to the ceiling. The other parchments were quickly rolled and stacked in a vacant chair by the fireplace. Dumbledore waved his hand toward the kitchen and an array of dinnerware flew from the kitchen as set themselves on the table. Molly followed shortly behind with several steaming dishes levitating in the air behind her.
"Brilliant!" a new voice called from the hallway. "We're just in time," Remus declared. He and Tonks walked into the kitchen hand-in-hand to an obvious eye roll from Severus Snape. Apparently relishing in "old times," Remus took the opportunity to respond. "What's the matter Severus?"
"From what I hear from the seventh year students, you had quite an afternoon in Hogsmeade," he replied flatly.
"That we did," Tonks replied brightly as she looked toward Remus with a warm smile. In response, he leaned into her and kissed her softly on the cheek.
"Wonderful," Mad-Eye growled, throwing up his hands in disgust. "Now is not the time to lose focus!'
"Oh, settle down Moody," Tonks said laughingly. "We're as focused as that magical eyeball of yours."
"Yeah, well this magical eyeball can tell your knickers are on inside-out."
Tonks scandalously raised her eyebrow and replied, "Exactly my point."
George suddenly realized Fred was slapping him on the back as he choked on his butterbeer. When George regained proper respiration he joined the laughter that accompanied the flaming red face sported by Remus Lupin.
"Tuck in," Molly said, wiping a tear from her eye and settling down to the table. The table fell silent, save for the sounds of clinking silverware and quiet chewing. George filled up on the variety of foods his mother had cooked. He knew, from experience, that stress brought out the chef in Molly Weasley. Her role in this evening's mission was to coordinate the operation from Grimmauld Place. Although that kept her safely out of harm's way, it placed her husband and two sons directly within the path of several Death Eaters. George knew her silence was indicative of her valiant attempt to hold herself together.
Sometimes the anticipation of what they did was worse than the reality of it.
***
"We've got approximately one hour. Let's go through it one more time," Moody said curtly.
The supper dishes had been cleared nearly an hour before and the team had reviewed their plan twice already. George's simulation hovered over the table in front of them.
"All right," Arthur sighed as he picked his wand up from the table. "These are the schematic diagrams of Malfoy Manor. Based on the information from Riley…"
"…or lack of it," Moody interrupted.
Arthur hesitated before continuing,"…or lack of it. We all know Voldemort and his cronies are planning a major attack. The problem is, for all of our speculation, we are no closer to determining what it is, where, or when it will happen." The Order listened attentively as if they'd never heard the information before. In truth, this was the third iteration this evening. However, no one seemed to mind.
"It doesn't take much to figure out that Lucius Malfoy is Voldemort's right hand," Remus added.
"If he's the right, then Bellatrix is the left," Tonks said with mirth. Remus nodded silently, as did several others.
"Voldemort has never been one for strategy. His many failed attempts to vanquish Harry have proven that his abilities in organizing an assault are deficient to say the least," Dumbledore said quietly over the parchment he was inspecting.
"So, it stands to reason that any plans they are preparing would have to be organized by someone other than Voldemort. Riley all but confirmed this with some of the intelligence he gathered from the Ministry. We know Lucius Malfoy has a broad influence with the upper echelon in the Ministry, if only for the galleons he's thrown at them to buy his way in," Arthur continued.
"So how are we sure that the information Riley gave us proves Malfoy is the one planning the next attack?" Molly asked.
"We aren't," Moody growled.
"It's a gut instinct Mum," George replied. "Malfoy has been scratching around for a lot of information that he shouldn't be interested in. He's gathered information about Hogwarts and he's thrown an exorbitant sum of money at Minister Fudge to solidify his access. He's even gone so far as to gather intelligence on the very people in this room. What's more, we've tailed him to an increasing number of disturbing dark wizarding establishments. We've even heard suspicious conversation in our own shop."
"There's a sense from Riley that he's had contact with Damien Keres," Fred added.
"And Malfoy Manor might have more security wards than Hogwarts at this point," Remus said darkly. "No one needs that kind of security unless they're hiding something."
Molly nodded weakly. "Alright. Since I'm coordinating the operation from here, let me ensure I have it right." They nodded their assent and George sent the spinning simulation down the table toward his mother. She raised her wand to stop its motion and began talking through the plan. "Everyone will apparate just outside the wards. Remus and Tonks will go here." She pointed to an area west of the manor and two figures glowed with a blue light. "Severus and Arthur will go here." She repeated the motion and two figures appeared in green. "Fred and George will go here," she tapped the simulation and their representative figures glowed red. Mad-Eye and Albus will command the operation on site, from this point to the south. Each of the teams will manage their own warded entry. As we figure it, there are seven different wards protecting the grounds. However, the front door is relatively unprotected."
"That basically leaves each team two wards to circumvent," Fred muttered.
"Yes, but you have the counter spells from Albus and he will remain in his position should you need any assistance," Arthur reminded him.
"Riley has it on good authority that Lucius and Narcissa will be at the Ministry fundraiser the evening. Draco is not due home for the holidays until tomorrow afternoon," Molly continued. "That leaves only the servants and house elves to consider."
"The Manor is warded against disillusionment charms, so Mundugus creatively acquired several invisibility cloaks for our employ," Fred offered clearly avoiding his mother's gaze.
"We are not expecting any additional Death Eaters. This Ministry gala is big enough, most of them will be in attendance," Arthur interjected. "However, should any of us encounter an issue, stun first and ask questions later."
"The teams will have three minutes to make it to the front door after Albus and Moody give the signal. You'll meet at the front door and make your way to the third floor study, located here." Molly continued to reiterate the plan and tapped the simulated mansion, illuminating the room. "Are we sure about this room Severus?" she added.
"Yes," he replied without embellishment.
"Each team has several rolls of parchment Fred and George supplied from their store. When you find the plans, roll the parchment over them and they will appear on your scroll; return to the safe point here." The area denoting Dumbledore and Moody's location sparkled brightly. "Should you have any unexpected issues, contact Moody, Dumbledore, or myself with the grapevines Albus brought from the greenhouse. We've set up surveillance charms within the past two days that are operating well." She muttered an incantation and the simulation showed several purple beams of light, boarding a carriage and heading off the grounds.
"Imagine that. They'll be fashionably late," Tonks said sarcastically.
"We should be hearing from Riley soon," Remus added. As they watched the purple light disappear from the floating simulation they began pulling on black clothing, gathering their invisibility cloaks, and holstering their wands. George elbowed Fred in the side as they watched Mad-Eye prepare for battle. He had no less than 4 wands holstered on his body, a variety of potions corked in small vials wrapped around his midsection, and a handful of enchanted dragon flies with rather imposing teeth bottled and strapped to his outer thigh. Both Fred and George stopped their inspection abruptly as Mad Eye's magical eyes spun wildly and fixed on them.
Molly organized the parchments on the table as she reset the colored images floating before her. Tonks kept one eye on the fireplace as her stomach rumbled gently.
"Hey." A quiet voice sounded in her ear. She turned her head toward Remus with a smile.
"Hi," she replied.
"Are you all right?" he asked with concern.
"Yeah." She waved her hand nonchalantly. "I'm fine, I always get a little nervous before an operation."
"I'll be right next to you," he said softly. She studied his face for a moment and turned to him fully.
"For how long?" she asked. The double meaning of her question was apparently not lost on Remus.
He pulled her around the corner to a darkened hallway. "For as long as you'll have me," he replied, his eyes wandering noticeably toward her lips. Whatever malady had invaded her stomach prior to this conversation invaded southward now. She closed the mere centimeters separating them and pressed her lips to his. She raised her hand to his cheek as he opened his mouth to her advances and they lost themselves in a private moment. Tonks thoughts drifted to the hour they'd spent prior to arriving at Grimmauld Place. Remembering the softness of his touch and the passion she scarcely realized he was capable of, she melted against him, moaning softly. Just as he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around her, a bright flash emanated from the kitchen fire and, even though they'd stepped out of the room, it nearly blinded her.
"Blast! Can someone tell Riley we have to be able to see to invade the Manor?" Fred barked as he rubbed his eyes.
"That's the signal," Arthur added needlessly. "They're at the gala."
Without additional conversation, the Order walked through the back doors to the warded apparition point in the back garden. Two by two, they disapparated to their assigned locations around the Manor.
Tonks grabbed Remus' hand as they apparated together. As the grounds of Malfoy manor became clear, she regained her footing and sunk behind a large evergreen a few feet away. Remus followed suit. She handed Remus her wand as she pulled the charmed chronograph from her pocket. She flipped it open and kept an eye on the hands. When they spun to 12:00, it would indicate all members of the team were in position. At that point, they would have three minutes to make it to the front door.
"It looks quiet," Remus said.
"Molly will tell us if we have any uninvited guests," Tonks said softly. She looked back to the chronograph. This was the part of any mission she hated most…waiting. Part of her consistently urged her body forward, only to be reigned in by the sensibly trained side that required prudence. So she passed the time the way she always did - revisiting her mission. "What wards do we have to counter?"
"Hang on," Remus said looking through a pair of enchanted glasses. They were none too stylish. They had large imposing black frames and were as thick as a butterbeer bottle. The left side was adorned with a conspicuous sparkling butterfly, nearly half as large as the lens itself. Tonks was quite sure they'd been nicked from Rita Skeeter at some point. But since then, Dumbledore charmed them to sense potential security wards. "There are two in our path."
"And?"
"One is a simple infrared ward that will trip with our body heat. The other looks like a magical mass indicator."
"Well, the first is easy," Tonks said as she took her wand out of Remus' hand. "Occulto fervefacio." Tonks felt her body turn cold as she cast the charm over them both. This was one of the things about being an Auror she never liked. These missions couldn't be conducted without putting yourself through some manner of discomfort and she hated being cold. "If the second is a magical mass indicator, it will detect our invisibility cloak, wands, chronograph, even ourselves. That is unless you can make yourself a muggle in the next thirty seconds."
"Not hardly," Remus said, pulling the glasses from his face and pocketing them. But I've gotten around this one before. "Celo magicus."
"How do I not know that spell?" she said rubbing her forearms rapidly.
"You've never been a Marauder," he replied with a smile. She barely had time to smile back when the chronograph spun to twelve o'clock. "That's it, let's go!" she ordered.
Having circumvented their wards they needed only to make it across the rather vast grounds and to the front door in three minutes. That wouldn't be an issue if they could run. However, they would have to be huddled underneath an invisibility cloak to mask their approach. Remus swung the cloak over them both and they set out across the open lawn. She could only assume the other teams, hidden under their own cloaks, were approaching as well. She looked at the chronograph, now acting as a stop watch and muttered, "45 seconds," as they picked up the pace.
They were within a hair's breadth of the front entrance when all hell broke loose.
"Get down!" she heard Remus shout as he pushed her to the ground. A stream of red light shot over her head and exploded into a nearby tree. She pulled her face from the lawn and looked up to see several Death Eaters approaching in the shadowy distance. "Don't move! We're still under the cloak," Remus whispered. Tonks pulled the grapevine from her pocket and listened for any traffic between the teams. There was none. She assumed they were remaining silent as well. That was until she heard Molly's voice.
"What's going on? Why have all of you stopped?"
Suddenly several whispered voices erupted over the grapevine together. Each of them asked some version of the same question…how many are there, and where did they come from?
"Them who?" Molly said, the frustration evident in her voice. "There's no one there!"
"Oh, bloody hell!" Remus said aloud next to her. Tonks snapped her head in the direction he was looking. She, essentially, had the same thought. The Death Eaters emerged from the shadows with strange-looking eyewear. It instantly resolved the only question still plaguing her about that stunner they'd dodged.
"They can see us!"
Apparently, the other teams determined likewise as Tonks saw Fred and George leap up from the ground, the cloak forgotten behind them. Remus and Tonks followed suit and ran for the nearest cover they could find. Multi-colored streams of light were searing the air around them. It didn't pass her notice that some of those spells were the same chilling green hue she'd seen at Privet Drive; the same green hue she'd seen hit Kingsley on Halloween. They dove behind a stone wall and Tonks snapped the grapevine to her ear. "Molly! We need an exit strategy now!" Amid the cacophony across the grapevine and the sound of spells crashing around her it was hard to hear the answer, but she heard it.
"I don't know! I can't see any of the Death Eaters! Our surveillance charms have been disarmed!"
"Damn it!" Tonks yelled as she threw the grapevine down. She turned to face the fight with Remus. "We have to get beyond this apparition ward! We're sitting ducks out here!" From the grapevine, now lying inertly on the ground she could hear Moody barking the order to fallback. She only hoped everyone heard it.
"We're going to have to make a break for it! There are too many to try and make a stand," Remus shouted. He pushed her head down as a purple stream of light crashed into the wall in front of them. "Nymph!" she heard him shout as she managed to blast a Death Eater off his feet with a well-placed stunner. She turned to see him looking over his shoulder, staring through the butterfly glasses. "Third Hemlock to the right of the drive! If we get there, we can get out!"
"On three!" she replied. He nodded and she counted aloud to three as she threw a final spell over the wall at the approaching Death Eaters. "Go!"
She didn't think she'd ever run so hard in her life. This was one of the times she wished she had Mad-Eye's magical eye. At least he could see what was behind him. She had to rely on her ability to hear the spells coming. Frankly, the blood was pounding so quickly in her ears it was hard to hear anything but the sound of her own rapid breathing. A spell burst on the ground at her feet, nearly toppling her into the hole it blew in her path. Remus grabbed her arm to steady her as they continued to run flat-out for the fast approaching hemlock.
Just a second longer.
She blindly threw a few more spells over her shoulder as the shouts of those chasing them heralded the end of the apparition ward. She drew a breath to summon her escape as she heard Remus wail in pain beside her.
For as fast as she had been running, she was sure the earth never moved slower. Remus' face was engraved with an agonizing expression. She could hear the breath escaping his lungs. As a matter of pure instinct she lunged for him, draping her arms around him as they fell toward the ground. With the little breath, and coherent thought, she had left, she shouted the incantation to apparate them to headquarters. Although she recognized the familiar dizzing sensation that accompanied apparition, she knew it wasn't over. They still had to stop.
She and Remus slammed into the back garden of Grimmauld Place. Her head collided with his and stars erupted behind her eyes. She rolled off of him, trying desperately to clear her vision and keep from throwing up on the lawn. The sound of multiple voices let her know they were the last to return.
"Tonks! Remus!" Fred called. Or was it George? She opened her eyes and decided it didn't matter, she saw four of them anyway. "Get Poppy!" he called again. Suddenly, the reality of what happened hit her. She rolled on her side, blinking furiously as her hands found Remus.
"Remus?" She called wearily. He didn't respond. Understanding that the immediate threat had been averted, the panic began to rise in her chest. "Remus, please?" she called again, shaking him. She looked up, despondency consuming her, and looked upon the sight before her. George was lying on the ground, clutching his arm; Molly was smothering Arthur who appeared nearly ready to pass out. "Operation Ferret" was a complete debacle.
She saw Poppy Pomfrey fly from the house, floo powder marring her ivory complexion. "Out of the way," she barked as she pushed Fred to the side. She dropped to her knees and wrenched open the bag she'd brought with her. Three talismans flew from the bag and circled his body furiously. Poppy studied them silently, and pulled the wand from her holster. From what Tonks could see he didn't appear injured. There was no blood; there was no real sign of injury. That's what scared her most. She knew what someone looked like after being hit with the killing curse. She'd seen it all too recently. In a way she was ecstatic to see what came next. "Turn him over!" Poppy ordered, while pushing up on Remus' side. Tonks helped to pull him over and realized his entire back was covered in blood.
Madam Pomfrey muttered a few incantations Tonks really didn't hear over the pounding of her own heart. The wounds on his back closed quickly, and Poppy drew a deep breath. "We should get him inside," she said calmly.
Looking to Dumbledore, who had raised his hand to levitate him, Fred said, "We've got him," as he slipped his arm under Remus' right shoulder and Mad Eye took the left. Tonks' breath caught in her throat as Remus grimaced and began to stir as they walked him inside. She followed closely behind and sat on the couch next to where they placed him. He opened his eyes and slid across the couch until his head was pillowed in the crook between her neck and shoulder. Tonks wrapped him in her arms and let her hand play in his hair.
"What the hell happened?" Remus said painfully.
"That's exactly what I'd like to know!" Moody barked. "Some great source; I never trusted this Riley character! How do we know he's not some dark wizard in his own right?" Moody was pacing back in forth in front of the group. Madam Pomfrey was attending to George's broken arm and Arthur's head.
"We don't know it was Riley," Arthur's voice wavered as Poppy looked him over.
"Who else could it be?" Moody roared. "We made it a point to ensure no one knew about this operation at all! The only person who had any information about any of this, was Riley! Unless one of us is working for Voldemort, no one else knew we were coming!"
Tonks buried her head in Remus' hair. His injury gave her a welcome excuse to look preoccupied. She barely maintained the maelstrom of fury boiling in her veins. No one in the Order had told anyone their plans…except her.
***
"At least its double Defense today," Harry said brightly. "One more double potions and I'm likely to indulge in a skiving snackbox."
"Not if I get there first," Ron replied with a chuckle. The trio entered the classroom and took their regular seats. Hermione arranged her textbook and parchment neatly on the table and examined her quills before choosing her weapon of choice for the afternoon. Harry couldn't help but smile at the entire process. He'd watched her do it so many times he was finally conjuring the courage to rearrange everything when she was distracted. However, he always thought better of the idea. He wasn't sure Godric Gryffindor himself had enough courage to do that.
"I wonder what's keeping Tonks?" Ron mumbled as he looked at his watch. Tonks was generally on time for class, but they'd sat there long enough students started debating the age old question of how many minutes late a Professor could be before the students could leave without penalty. Harry always relished in that discussion. It usually took place among the Slytherins that were too scared to leave anyway. They merely debated the topic until the Professor came in, and quietly admonished themselves for not having left thirty seconds before.
A slam of the classroom door drew every bit of conversation to an abrupt halt.
Tonks swept into the room, the clicking of her heels against the flagstone floor was the only sound contained within the four walls. As she passed between the trio (Ron at one table and Harry and Hermione on the other side of the aisle at another) Harry watched Hermione gasp and draw her hand to her chest. She looked over to him with a shocked expression.
Before Harry had the ability, or inclination, to ask what the matter was, it became thoroughly clear.
"Take everything off your desk, save for a parchment and quill. It's time to find out what you lot actually know about defense."
Harry and Ron exchanged a puzzled look while Hermione hurriedly gathered her things and placed them on the floor. Tonks began stalking around the room, showering student tables with parchment. She seemed especially enthusiastic when she reached their tables.
"Profess-" Ron started.
"Mr. Weasley I would expect you would do me the courtesy of raising your hand," Tonks interrupted. Ron looked at Harry and awkwardly raised his hand.
Harry was as confused as Ron appeared to be. The prospect of raising your hand in Tonks' class was preposterous. It was the most casual of any course taught at Hogwarts, and Tonks liked it that way. She'd once gone so far as to threaten a Ravenclaw with deducting house points if she raised her hand one more time.
Either she wasn't used to it, or she was ignoring Ron completely. He sat with his hand cautiously in the air as Tonks merely turned her back and swept to the front of the room. She dropped the remaining parchment on her desk and turned to the class. "You have thirty minutes to complete the quiz. There will be no discussion or I shall deduct house points immediately. You may begin." She flipped an hourglass over and crossed her arms, staring at the students warningly.
Harry met Hermione's eyes briefly and heard her thoughts echoing his own.
What in the name of Merlin is going on?
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Tonks said curtly. The collective heads of the class snapped up and followed Tonks' seething gaze - right to Harry and Hermione.
"But, Professor," Harry began. He knew without question neither he nor Hermione had spoken a word. He just wasn't sure if Tonks heard it anyway.
"Ten more," Tonks interrupted. "If you should care to argue any more, Mr. Potter, I'll happily make it fifty." She remained stalwart, as if begging Harry to call her bluff. After all, there weren't many Hogwarts students responsible for the loss of as many points as Harry Potter. Had this been Delores Umbridge he would've taken her challenge willingly. But this wasn't Umbridge. This was Tonks, and he was seeing a side of her he'd quickly decided he'd rather not see again. Accepting defeat, he dropped his eyes to the parchment and began working on the quiz.
Hermione's quill was scratching furiously as the enchanted hourglass began to grow clear. Harry finished the questions five minutes before, but he had to admit he was no where near as verbose as Hermione. He smiled as he remembered a conversation they'd had to that effect.
"Hermione, the answer to this question doesn't require four rolls of parchment."
"I'm just being thorough," she replied, not raising her eyes from the parchment before her.
"Fine. So tell me your incredibly thorough answer," he requested laughingly.
She looked at him briefly and sat upright, smoothing the parchment in front of her. "Okay," she began. "The ancient wizard Gunderoff fought valiantly against his nemesis, the evil Warlock Trunglebuff. However, despite his concerted efforts, Trunglebuff was well versed in the art of deception. He lured Gunderoff to a remote cavern in the mountains of Ryre. The weather was bitterly cold and foreshadowed the end result with chilling clarity. Gunderoff, upon entering the cave, was set upon by Trunglebuff's compatriots, and sadly did not survive."
Harry would've looked to see her triumphant smile after she finished, but he was too busy rubbing the tears from his eyes.
"What?" Hermione barked.
Regaining his composure, Harry looked across the table and picked up his own parchment. He cleared his throat and read, "Trunglebuff killed Gunderoff."
"Time has expired," Tonks cold voice echoed in the room, dragging Harry back to the present. "Should any of you care to attempt it, you can answer this question for additional points. You have five minutes." She flipped over the chalkboard standing at the front of the room to reveal another question. Harry couldn't help but notice her eyes hadn't left the trio as he read what was inscribed on the board.
"Explain the magical theory behind the Fidelius Charm (its absolute reliance on character, honesty, and trustworthiness) and its importance to the deterrence of Dark Magic."
Hermione snapped out another scroll of parchment and set to work immediately. Harry gave a fleeting glance to Ron, who was returning the favor in kind, and shrugged his shoulders confusedly. Tonks cleared her throat loudly, drawing Harry's attention back to his paper and he began working on the question.
"That was without doubt the longest Defense class we've had in years," Hermione muttered as the class began packing their belongings. It didn't pass Harry's notice that most of the students we're essentially running for the door. In total, Gryffindor lost 45 points, or more specifically Harry, Ron, and Hermione lost 45 points. Hufflepuff lost only 10.
Tonks mood did not improve as the class had progressed and most of their lesson was found in the textbook. In all honestly, Harry was relieved for that. Given her mood, he shuddered to think of the ramifications of the practical application of defensive spells against a rather celebrated, and thoroughly unhappy, Auror.
"Do you think we should ask her what's wrong?" Harry mumbled thoughtfully.
"Are you mad?" Ron replied, stepping to their table. "I think I'd rather ask one of Hagrid's pets for their last bite of dinner. Let's get out of here before we lose any more points for Gryffindor." Deciding Ron was right; Harry picked up his bag and began to follow Ron and Hermione from the classroom.
"You three," Tonks said sharply. The trio stopped in their tracks as several other students rushed past them toward the door. "We have something to talk about." Ron gulped audibly as they turned to the front of the class and walked to her desk.
"I thought it was rather clear that what is said between us stays between us," Tonks hissed. Harry and the others exchanged dumbfounded looks and waited for an explanation. It didn't look like it was coming.
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked sheepishly.
"What am I talking about?" Tonks blasted. The simple question seemed to open the floodgates to the fury she'd been damming up all class period. "I trusted you! All of you! No one was supposed to say anything about Operation Ferret and no one did! No one but me!" she roared. Harry's expression changed rapidly from inquisition to apprehension.
"Did something happen?"
"Happen? Yeah, I'll say something happened!" She barked. "We're lucky Remus isn't dead." She looked at Ron and jabbed a finger in his chest. "Your brother and father were both injured." Ron's face fell to stone.
"Are they…" he began.
"They're fine," she snapped. "George broke his arm and your father sustained a rather nasty concussion." She began pacing the floor in front of them and talking, seemingly, to herself. "They knew we were coming. They were ready for us." She stopped pacing and turned to face them. "We intentionally kept this confidential so there would be no leaks! Except I'm apparently not smart enough to keep my mouth shut!"
"You don't think we told anyone?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"Well, none of the Order did! The leak had to come from somewhere outside our team. The only other people that had knowledge of the operation are the very three people I'm staring in the face." Her voice dropped to a chillingly cold decibel. "Who did you tell?"
Harry was astounded. He looked among his two best friends and saw similar expressions. Hermione's jaw was firmly planted on the floor and Ron sported a look of complete astonishment. Harry found his voice first. "I don't know what you think, but we would never tell anyone something like that." Hermione's head shook furiously.
Tonks face was as dark as he'd ever seen it. "Never say never, Harry; one of you did." With that, she swept from the classroom leaving only the crash of a slamming door behind her.
"Great gods, I've never seen anyone that angry," Hermione whispered. The trio stood silently in the empty classroom, looking toward the door where Tonks had exited. Harry was at a loss. He would never tell anyone about the Order, let alone any clandestine plan they'd organized to infiltrate Malfoy Manor. But that wasn't what bothered him most. He was completely floored by the fact she'd questioned his integrity. He felt confidant, after all his years at Hogwarts and the experiences he'd had, that his character was generally well established. He certainly would never endanger the lives of Lupin or the Weasleys. Still, she had a point. If no one in the Order told anyone of the operation, then where did the leak come from?
"Hermione," he began quietly.
"Don't even ask me, Harry. You know I would never tell anyone," Hermione interjected. "None of us would." Harry nodded in agreement and looked to change the subject. His stomach was starting to overtake his brain and the smell of a hot supper was wafting through the castle.
"Come on. Let's get some supper. We have to meet Professor Dumbledore tonight," Harry suggested. They complied silently and left the classroom together.
"Ron, I'm sure they're all right," Hermione said knowingly as they made their way toward the Great Hall.
"What?" he replied.
"It's just that I can tell you're very concerned about something. I thought it might be over George and your father," she answered.
"I am concerned, but not over them. She said they were fine and I believe her. Mum would've owled if anything was seriously wrong," Ron said flatly.
"Then what is it?" she asked.
Ron's footsteps drew to a halt. His shoulders dropped noticeably as he appeared to resign himself to some decision. "We need to talk." He looked around suspiciously and pulled them both into an empty classroom.
"Ron? What's the matter?" Harry asked, closing the door behind them.
"I told someone," Ron said suddenly.
"You what?" They barked together. Ron spun around and pulled a chair from under a table. He flopped down in it and buried his head in his hands.
"Who did you tell?" Harry demanded.
"It doesn't really matter. I trust her like I trust you. She wouldn't have told anyone," Ron said dismissively.
"Ron," Hermione said, voice rising. "Who did you tell?"
"I ran into Ginny in Hogsmeade. She mentioned how out of sorts Fred and George had been and it just slipped out." He looked between them both as Harry tried to erase the shocked expression from his face.
"She wouldn't tell anyone. She's not the leak." Ron added quickly. Harry couldn't help but remember his second year at Hogwarts. With an uneasy glance to Hermione, they followed Ron out of the classroom and toward the Great Hall.
***
After an uneasy dinner, the trio commandeered their usual table near the restricted section of the library. Hermione flopped into the worn leather upholstered chair and aimlessly picked at the assortment of books in front of them. Silently, Harry and Ron took their seats as well, no one seeming the least bit motivated to begin working on a solution. They exchanged a few defeated glances as Hermione pulled out a quill and some parchment.
"I wondered how long I'd be working alone this evening. It appears, from the looks of you, longer than I expected," Professor Dumbledore glided around the corner holding a worn book in his hand.
"Good evening, Professor," Hermione said emotionless. She noticed Harry and Ron nod silently as Dumbledore took the last open seat.
"Forgive me for intruding, but you appear a bit vexed to say the least," he said softly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Hermione, suddenly realizing they were sitting before a key member of the Order, perked up quickly. "Thank you, Professor. I think we're just a bit knackered is all," she said, looking at the other two pointedly. She already felt like Tonks had lost all faith in them. She didn't want that mistrust to spread to the Headmaster. She was relatively assured Tonks hadn't told the Order she'd compromised the mission. In the face of Professor Dumbledore, she felt the need to steer the conversation away from Operation Ferret…and quickly. She looked across the table to Harry and narrowed her eyes.
Play along!
At first, she wasn't entirely sure he'd heard her. He stopped running his hand along the spine of a book and looked up to her, comprehension in his eyes.
"Yeah, I've always wanted to ask you if the House elves put a sleeping draught in the pumpkin juice at dinner," Harry said with a weak smile.
For a moment, Dumbledore looked suspiciously between Harry and Hermione, then appearing to shrug off his concern, smiled at Harry. "I shall make no comment in the affirmative or negative." His levity breaking the tension in the air, he looked to the books in front of them. "Let me show you what I've found so far," he said softly.
Interest peaked, the trio sat up around the table and listened as Dumbledore flipped through a few pages and showed them the notes he'd made thus far. "There are several possibilities here that, if combined, might prove an effective defense against some of his more lethal spells."
"Combined?' Ron said quizzically.
"Well," Dumbledore began. "If you look at the theories behind these particular enchantments, it would seem logical that blending them might prove helpful." Hermione slid the book toward her and began reading the paragraphs he'd marked earlier.
"You're talking about writing new charms," Hermione said skeptically.
"Well, I dare say if any existing charms worked, we wouldn't be having this conversation Ms. Granger," Dumbledore replied. He pulled an ornate timepiece from the fold of his robes and flipped open the top with a grimace. "I, unfortunately, have some other duties to attend to." He stood up and looked at each of them in turn. "I'll review your notes tomorrow morning." He winked at the trio as swept gracefully from the room, leaving them with the stack of dog-eared books he'd perused already.
Hermione pulled the open book closer to her and settled in to read Dumbledore's markings more closely when she realized Harry was looking at her. She looked up, and was startled by the look in his eyes.
"That was not the smartest thing you've ever done, Hermione," Harry said flatly. Hermione glanced to Ron's confused expression before returning her eyes to Harry.
"What?" she said dumbfounded.
Harry simply cocked his head to the side and looked at her knowingly. She suddenly realized what he was referring to and dropped her eyes to the table. He was right. Dumbledore was the greatest sorcerer of the age. Was it even remotely possible that among his many talents (Legilimancy being one) that he didn't hear Hermione order Harry to "play along" with her story? She gave a nearly imperceptible nod of her head as Ron scoffed beside her.
"Did I miss something?" he said pointedly.
Harry looked between Ron and Hermione. She knew what he was contemplating but wasn't any more confident in the answer than he appeared to be. Neither of them had really told Ron that they'd discovered the intermittent ability to communicate telepathically. Honestly, she wasn't sure how he'd take the news. Their relationship had progressed so far, so well, since their break down at the Burrow, she wasn't ready to test it. However, she couldn't escape the feeling that in order for that progress to continue they needed to be honest with Ron. Harry apparently came to the same conclusion.
He drew a deep breath and looked at Ron. "Hermione and I," he hesitated, looking toward Hermione helplessly. "We've sort of developed the ability to talk to each other," he said resignedly.
"I talk to you everyday, so what?" Ron said nonplussed.
"Not like that," Harry added.
"It's more…telepathic," Hermione interjected. She studied Ron's expression, waiting for some emotion to boil over and ruin the progress they'd made.
"Oh, well I knew that already," Ron said nonchalantly and returned to the book in front of him. Hermione and Harry looked at each other in shock.
"What do you mean, you knew?" Hermione asked.
"Last year, when you told him Krum dragged you off to Hogsmeade. Isn't that what you were doing then?" Ron asked interestedly. In fact, it wasn't what they had been doing at that time. Being able to expressly communicate their thoughts evolved after that time, but she didn't feel the need to go into the details. In actuality, she was completely relieved their newfound ability wasn't another sticking point for Ron. From the looks of him, he didn't seem to care in the least, nor did she get the sense he'd felt any different.
"Close enough," Harry said laughingly. He flipped open another book and continued working. It wasn't long before the levity wore off and their conversation drifted back to the subject they'd ardently avoided before Dumbledore's arrival. It had been driving Hermione mad. She had to talk about it, whether Ron wanted to hear it or not.
"Ron, we need to talk about this," she said quietly. Harry stopped writing immediately and looked up.
"There's nothing to talk about Hermione," Ron said, clearly irritated the subject had sprung up.
"Ron," Hermione began.
"I said there's nothing to talk about Hermione," Ron's voice rose audibly. "She's not the leak."
"But, if no one in the Order said anything, and none of us did, it doesn't leave too many prospects," Hermione whispered.
With that, Ron slammed his quill on the table, the echo of his outburst trailing around the bookshelves. "I thought you were her friend, Hermione!" Ron hissed.
"I am her friend! And I'm very concerned about her! Even you have to admit she's been acting odd," Hermione snapped in return.
"I don't have to admit anything. She's my sister and she's not…" he trailed off looking around the library, "…she's not feeding information to dark wizards!" he finished quietly.
"What if she doesn't know she's doing it," Harry interrupted simply. Both Ron and Hermione snapped their attention to Harry. He returned their questioning looks with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's happened before, Ron."
"Oh, not you too!" Ron scoffed. His voice carried loudly enough to turn a few heads.
"Shhh," Hermione hissed as she grabbed Ron's arm. It was clear to Hermione this conversation had reached an impasse. Ron was firmly entrenched in his position and wouldn't listen to the slightest inclination that Ginny might have let something slip as he had. She didn't like the prospect of it any more than Ron did, but she couldn't escape the feelings she'd been getting from her. She'd felt Ginny's betrayal; her guilt. She'd seen her out well past curfew with no reason as to why. If her activity had anything to do with the failure of Operation Ferret, everything made perfect sense. And to Hermione, something that made logical sense was as close to "engraved in stone" as one could get.
"Ron," she began hesitantly. "When Ginny came into the Great Hall last night she was feeling horribly guilty about something. It was worse when she looked at you."
"Aside from the fact she was late to dinner," Harry mentioned quietly. Hermione nodded, feeling emboldened by the support Harry was giving her theory.
"And later last night, we caught her hurrying back to Gryffindor Tower nearly an hour past curfew," Hermione added. Ron was shaking his head silently, blindly staring at the books in front of him. "Ron, she wouldn't tell us where she was or what she'd been doing. She was acting very strange."
"That's the same night the Order tried to get into Malfoy Manor," Harry said regretfully.
Ron suddenly looked up. His eyes shot between Harry and Hermione. "There are a million reasons why Ginny might be out after hours, and who knows what girls feel guilty about! None of this proves anything! She promised me she wouldn't say anything to anyone, and Ginny would never lie to me. I refuse to believe any of this. Ginny is not the leak!" Ron reiterated icily.
Silence fell among the trio. Hermione could feel her mouth gaping open. She'd given Ron all the evidence she had and he'd flat refused to consider any of it. She looked to Harry desperate for reinforcements. But his expression was as clear as the voice in her head.
Leave it alone, Hermione.
Her mouth continued to bob open and closed as Harry indiscriminately shook his head. Feeling completed deflated, she slumped her shoulders and snapped open the book she'd closed earlier.
"Well, that's a look of frustration if I ever saw one," a bright voice chided from behind her. She spun around with a scathing glare to inspect the intruder. "Whoa!" Merc said as she threw her hands up in front of her. "Someone has her knickers in a twist." Hermione turned back to her book and flipped the pages loudly.
"Can we help you with something?" Ron asked coldly.
Merc considered him for a second before responding. "I thought I was here to help you."
"I asked her to come," Hermione said, still fuming.
"I'm sorry I'm a bit late. I waited at our normal study table for a while. It wasn't until I heard a familiar sound that I thought to look for you elsewhere," she replied.
"What was the familiar sound?" Harry asked, not seeming heartily interested in the answer.
Hermione saw Merc's eyes float over Ron quickly before she answered. "It's not important." She looked at the trio in turn. "If this is a bad time, I can come back later." Hermione's suddenly felt her eyes brighten. She looked up to see additional reinforcements, rather than study partners. Merc was logical, she was intuitive. She'd have to be on her side!
"No, I think you're perfectly on time. Perhaps you can act as an objective third party," Hermione said hopefully.
"Perhaps she can't," Ron snapped as he threw a scathing glare in Hermione's direction.
"Okay," Merc said hesitantly as she lowered herself into the chair Professor Dumbledore had vacated. Hermione drew herself up and crossed her arms on the table. She was quite sure it didn't take an empath to feel the waves of anger coursing off of Ron; but she was undeterred.
"Ron and I are having a difference of opinion," Hermione began.
"Hermione," Ron warned.
Ignoring his admonition, she continued. "He seems to think it's not possible that someone can make a poor decision, or be otherwise influenced to breach his trust. I think under the proper circumstances such a thing is possible. What do you think?"
"Well, I think that's the vaguest question I've been asked in a long time," Merc responded. Hermione waited for a complimentary answer. "I guess," Merc continued, looking warily between the three sets of eyes focused on her, "it depends who the person is and what breach of trust occurred."
"Both of which are private matters," Ron said flatly.
"Fair enough," Merc responded pulling a roll of parchment from her bag.
"Alright, what if I phrase it this way," Hermione continued over Ron's seething glare and Harry's rolling eyes. "You have a brother," she declared.
"Yes."
"Do you believe it's possible for him to break your trust, even if he didn't know he was doing it, or never thought harm would come from it?" Hermione asked pointedly.
"Well…" Merc drew herself up for a proper response just as she was interrupted.
"Bloody hell, Hermione! Why don't you just tell her you think Ginny lied to me?" Ron blasted. Hermione snapped her head to Ron.
"Ron, you have six siblings! If you hadn't opened your mouth she'd have no idea which one I was talking about!" Hermione argued. She couldn't help but feel proud of that remark. It completely stopped Ron in his tracks. Triumphantly, she turned to Merc and awaited the answer she'd started to give. However, when her eyes fell across Merc, it became obvious to Hermione something had changed.
"This is about Ginny?" Merc asked warily. The silence appeared to be enough of an affirmation for her. She busied herself with her quills and ink wells, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
Merc smiled with false enthusiasm. "Nothing," she said brightly. "I think Ron is right, this sounds like a private matter. So, tell me about this project of yours," she replied in an obvious attempt to change the subject.
Hermione half expected Ron to leap on the table and perform a victory dance, however, she didn't have to look his direction to know that wasn't going to happen. She was immediately bombarded by intense emotions she wasn't prepared for. She drew a deep breath, propped her elbows on the table, and sat her forehead in her hands.
"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry's voice echoed in the distance. She drew several more breaths, nodding her head affirmatively, and worked to separate what she was feeling. Merc was highly uncomfortable, nearly panicked. Ron, while still angry, was boiling with several emotions, ranging from despair to concern.
He had been listening to Hermione; he just didn't want to admit it. With Merc's sudden change of position, his interest seemed as peaked as hers was. "Merc, tell me the truth. What do you know about Ginny?" Hermione said quietly. Again, she felt her friend's panic rise.
"Well, she's a Gryffindor. She's got red hair. I hear she has a lovely singing voice," she responded with a forced laugh. Hermione drew her forehead from her palms and leveled her eyes across the table. Merc smile faded almost instantly and she dropped her eyes to the table. "Listen, I really don't know that it's my place to say."
"If you have something to say about my sister, you'd best do it now," Ron said shortly. Merc's eyes floated to his for the briefest of seconds before she returned her eyes to the table in front of her and drew a breath.
"How did Ginny spend her summer?" she asked quietly.
Hermione, for one, couldn't figure where Merc was headed with this. They'd talked about Ginny's internship a few times during their study breaks. Surely, she didn't forget.
"She worked an internship at Witch Weekly for the relationship columnist," Ron answered.
Merc simply nodded her head and innocuously picked at the finish on the mahogany table. "And you're sure of that?" Merc replied even more softly.
"Of course I'm sure of that," Ron said, his voice rising with each word. "She was there all summer. Great gods, she wrote all three of us during the summer to tell us about her job. She used her contacts there to renew Mum's subscription for another five years!" he said incredulously.
"What is it?" Hermione asked Merc, not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.
Merc dropped her hands from the table. "They only award one of those internships each summer," she began.
"We know! Why do you think we were so proud of her?" Ron interrupted.
A grimace darkening her features, Merc slowly said, "It wasn't awarded to Ginny." Hermione felt her heart drop to her stomach. She looked at Harry, who appeared equally as stunned.
"What?" Ron asked, voice rising to publicly audible levels.
"Orla Quirke is a 4th year student in my house." Merc said looking directly at Ron. "It was a bit of a farce to us, really. Her mother works for Witch Weekly and the appointment had nepotism written all over it." She scoffed. "Imagine a third year student getting that position."
Ron stood up from the table, his chair flying out from beneath him. Hermione startled and prepared for the shouting match that was destined to ensue. Remembering the story of their last row, she hoped to intercede on Merc's behalf, if only to take the punishment on herself. Hermione looked to Ron, preparing to throw herself in the line of fire, when she realized, with some astonishment, she didn't need to.
He was seething, shaking even, but when he spoke his words were as quiet and steadfast as she'd ever heard them. She knew from the fury he felt resonating from him that he must've been holding himself together with every ounce of strength he had. When he spoke, Hermione had to strain to hear him, but the cold fury in his voice was evident to all.
"You're wrong, and I'll prove it."
He turned on one heel and stormed from the table. They didn't have to guess when he'd reached the library doors, the echo of slamming mahogany let them know he'd gone.
Hermione turned back to face Harry and Merc. Merc's head was in her hand and Harry was staring blindly back toward Hermione. It seemed like ages before anyone spoke. Harry's voice was the first to sound.
"If she wasn't at Witch Weekly, where the hell was she all summer?"