Chapter 60 - The Mystery Witch
Harry found Andy in front of the computer feeding parchments of information into the modified processor, a couple of empty paper cups with coffee rings strewn about her. Leo was asleep on a conjured cot off to the side, drooling a large lake onto the pillow, appearing to snore without a sound.
"Hey, stud muffin," Andy greeted as he stepped into the room.
She did so without looking up as she manipulated the data that appeared on the screen.
"Hi," he replied, deciding to let that one slide, "Where's everybody else?"
Andy had this look that she didn't want to answer.
"We're it. After what happened yesterday and what's going on today, Muller couldn't afford to give us more men and Auror Shacklebolt's deputy did not share your friend's eagerness to help. I sent Holly home to get real rest. Sorry."
He shook his head, too frustrated to speak. There was no sense dwelling on something he could not change. Standing behind her, he looked over her shoulder and tried to figure out what it was she was doing.
"Ginny's list?"
Andy mumbled the affirmative while she sipped from her third cup and handed him a warm full one, "Is she up?"
"Shower," he answered then absentmindedly drank some of the strong bitter stuff, "Did you get any sleep at all?"
Andy nodded as she cast a spell on the surveillance equipment and the video and audio feeds came back alive.
"Some. Leo took the first shift but then he must have been so tired he dozed off too. It was a good thing he started snoring. That woke me up. I did have to cast a silencing charm on him so I could get some work done," she answered, "How do you feel?"
"Still sore but much better."
"The hospital called, said you left your prescription and they couldn't reach you. I asked Leo to pick it up last night," she picked up the small pouch on the desk and tossed him the numbing and muscle strengthening potions.
"Thanks."
He caught and pocketed the phials with his free hand, thinking about disposing of it later.
Harry motioned to the screen before her.
"So, what do you have?"
"Two lists; the last three generations of pro-potion Bruin women from Ginny's incomplete family tree and the three hundred twenty five female registrants and presenters in this year's conference. I've been running queries, trying to find one friggin' match or partial match all night."
"Why just three generations?"
"I had to start somewhere. I figure that if there is a pro-potion Bruin attending the conference she will be one of if not related to someone on the three generation list of seventy seven."
"Anything?"
"Not on last names, not on maiden names, but I just got forty given name matches, most of them Helga. I pulled civilian info from all the sources I could find and I'm cross matching birthdays, places of birth, schools attended, profession, pet names, favorite colors, perfume preferences and whatever else is available. It's a long shot. I just fed the last of the data in. It shouldn't take long."
It was a long shot, a very long shot, but at least it was something. Andy downed the last drop of her coffee and stretched.
"Someone dropped off a package for you at the Ministry yesterday. Leo picked it up while he was doing errands last night. It's over there."
Andy pointed to the desk where he worked the other night. An orange colored parcel with his name on it lay atop the file folders. His partner got up and headed for the shower. Harry left the computer to do its thing and walked towards the other desk, glancing over into Hermione's room on his way there. She was still in the bathroom. He remembered that Ron had resorted to using code the other night which meant that whatever it was, Ron did not want Hermione to know.
Using his wand to break the seal, he wasted no time unpacking the parcel he had been expecting from Ron's former Cannon teammate, Pfaff. There was a note up on top of the box contents, an open invitation from Pfaff to have a few drinks. He put the note aside and pulled out the well used dragon hide gloves he had given Ron back in Hogwarts.
They were reddish brown, treated with weeks of immersion in a softening potion and hand sewn using giant hair twine. Ron loved the pair and used them during their first year as Cannons. He probably would have continued to use them if not for the large tear on the right one caused by an over zealous but blind Beater who, mistaking it for the Bludger, whacked the Quaffle off of Ron's hand during a practice game.
All right, Ron. Where would you hide our non existent secret plays?
It would have helped had he had a better idea what it was exactly he was looking for. Envisioning it as maybe some sort of a letter or actual writing, he checked the most obvious spots first. There were no markings or notes inside out. He even checked within the tear and there was nothing.
Just what he needed; one more thing to figure out. He pondered getting in touch with the Ghost and asking him pointedly what this was all about. Without thought, he put the gloves on both hands. That didn't feel right.
He took them off and examined them more closely and this time noticed the relatively new stitching on both.
Diffindo!
The stitches broke off easily confirming they weren't made of the original giant hair twine. He took the gloves apart and found what he was looking for. In between the inner linings and the outer dragon hide coverings were pictures, moving magical images of two familiar figures in a clearly compromising position. He knew exactly when and where they were taken and after reading an unsigned note bundled within the snapshots, had a good idea of who gave them to Ron. There was a letter addressed to him in his friend's handwriting which confirmed his suspicion.
As Harry recalled the events that happened just before Ron's death, everything was coming together now. The Beavers were favorites heading in then lost their Seeker days before the match. He could bet a million galleons that the Seeker's injury was not accidental. With that, the Cannons became heavy favorites. Waterman took advantage of the situation and tried to make easy money by betting heavily on a Beavers win knowing he had the other team's best player under control. Ron was asked to sell the team out or the pictures would leak out and damage Hermione's reputation. It explained his performance that night, until Ron did the unthinkable and led his team to a come from behind victory. He pissed a lot of people off. It was obvious Ron was murdered because of it.
He sat back and felt his hatred for Waterman resurface and percolate. That bastard must have had someone spying on him as Roy that night at St. Mungo's when he and Hermione were in that exam room. He was livid at himself for the entire thing; for the indiscretion, for the lack of awareness and for putting Ron in a hellish situation. Harry imagined what Ron went through actually seeing the woman he was about to marry with another man as opposed to just knowing of it. And not only that, he was giving up his dream of a Queen's cup championship ring. In his opinion, Ron exercised extraordinary restrain for he would have done more than what Ron did to him if it was the other way around.
Repairing the gloves, the air was suddenly pierced by a commotion in the shower.
"Get the fuck out of here, Ghost!"
Ron's transparent body appeared through the bathroom door and he was laughing.
"I love being a ghost!" Ron said to him as he got closer, "Oh, good. You got it from Pfaff. If you don't mind. They kind of bring back painful memories."
Ron eyed the pictures with disgust as Harry destroyed them.
"Why didn't you tell me he was blackmailing you?"
"I just found out about what you did. I wanted to kill you, I was doing you a favor," he replied, "It wasn't an option. And I really thought I could handle it on my own."
"He would not have kept the end of his bargain."
"Probably not."
"You should have told someone."
"Who? Kingsley? Get the entire Auror team to hunt the man down?" Ron asked, "She would have gotten into trouble. I couldn't do that to her. She would have lost everything, Harry. Her job, her license to heal. We both know healing is her life. It would have killed her."
Harry was speechless. Ron had very good points and he had to admit, he would have probably done the same thing.
Ron added, "It was okay. I kind of accepted that we were going to lose the Cup until Socrates got Killdeer warming up and threatened to pull me out of the game. He's been around a long time and knew someone got to me. He told me that he didn't care what it was but called it as you just said. Deliberately losing was not a guarantee. I realized I couldn't help her and I just lost it."
Harry nodded, "What really happened up there Ron?"
As if waiting for that question for a long time he answered quickly, "I saw that man's face, got hit by a green light and blacked out."
"Why didn't you say anything before?"
"The same reason I didn't tell anyone when I was alive. And besides, Ghosts aren't allowed to be witnesses against gits like him."
It wasn't so much as a relief but a feeling of vindication washed over him. He had been right all along but there was hollowness to the story that needed filling. The first gap was the fact that the MLE crime lab found no traces of magical foul play on Ron's body. He could only think that the current methods of magical detection could not pick up the type of magic Waterman was using. The second was less easy to explain.
"Waterman is a vile excuse for a human being. Why didn't he let the pictures out after you died?"
"I don't know. That was why I gave the pictures to Pfaff for safekeeping. If Hermione got in trouble, he was supposed to give that to you and to you only, and I was hoping you could do something to help her. And who cares if he didn't? I want him to never be able to. That was what I was worried about when I died and continue to be worried about. That's the real reason why I can't cross over. I can't rest until that guy Floyd or Waterman or whatever his name is is dead, my preference, or unable to recall the past. Until then Hermione will not be safe."
"You don't want him to face charges for your death?"
"There will be too much digging around the truth if that happened. No circus," he said emphatically, "And she can't know about this. Okay?"
He nodded in agreement. It would be one more thing she would feel guilty about. It was a good thing that the orders for Waterman were curse-first-ask-questions-later. He did not have to make excuses. But it still bugged him that Waterman chose not to make Hermione and him suffer more. Did Neville know about St. Mungo's too? Was he the one who asked Waterman not to release the pictures or was it Lestrange?
Judging that last thought preposterous and the former more likely, he barely heard Ron hurriedly giving him last minute reminders about Waterman. The Ghost wisely exited because Andy was coming out of the shower.
Harry looked up. The sight of Hermione's still empty room jarred him. Hermione had not come out yet.
XXXXXXXXXX
Not long before that, the eerie silence between Hermione and Neville was as unusual as how terrified she was of him at that moment. Hermione stared into the mirror at the image of Neville's friendly grey eyes, feeling naked without her wand, more naked than if she did not have the towel wrapped around her. The air in her vicinity dissipated and she could hear her heart beating wildly knowing that her weapon was on the counter within arms reach. Her vision blurred and she blinked off tears as her hands shook.
"I wouldn't do it," Neville advised, calm and confident as she had never seen him, "You can't curse me even if you wanted to. You'll just raise the alarm and get a lot of people killed unnecessarily. The way I see it, you can either do that or come with me quietly."
He was right. No more deaths.
"It didn't have to be this way, Neville," she had to tell him, "You should have come to us for help."
"Unfortunately that's all water under the bridge."
"It's not too late. It's never too late."
"There are things I cannot change anymore. It's already out there and I have to see this through," he replied with a morsel of regret.
"Do you really expect me to willingly help you after what you've done?"
"I'm hoping you will once you hear what it is that I need your help with. I won't even have to convince you," he remarked confidently, "Creating the potion that Sophie Bruin intended is the right thing to do."
"The end does not justify the means."
"I couldn't agree with you more," Neville said to her as he wandlessly conjured clothes for her to wear, "We should get going. You and I have a lot to learn from each other."
As Hermione dressed she thought about Harry and what would happen once he found out she was missing. She was weighing what she wanted him to do, then, thinking about how he had not totally recovered from what happened at the Ministry yesterday, decided and made a request.
"I'd like to leave a note, for Harry."
"You don't want him to worry?"
She nodded. Neville handed her wand over. Transfiguring paper towel into stationary, she used her wand to make markings on it.
Harry,
I need some space and some time to think. I hope you understand.
Love,
Hermione
Hermione was about to fold it when he stopped her. He saw what she wrote.
"It's not very convincing."
He was right but it was the best she could do.
"Here, let me help you."
Neville took the letter from her and added his writing at the bottom of the page.
P.S.
Don't worry. I'll take good care of her. See you around.
"That's better. Don't you think?"
Tears of every imaginable negative emotion sprung from her eyes. He pinned the note on the mirror with a sticking charm, produced a phial from his robe pocket and offered it to her.
"No thanks," she declined as she told herself to act braver and stop being so emotional, "I prefer drinking my own concoctions."
He chuckled, "So do I, actually. But I insist you make an exception in this case."
Hermione took it from him trying to figure out what the potion in it was. Neville guessed the question in her mind and answered.
"It's cranberry juice with a few drops of essence of house elf, in this case, spleen, just enough to be able to go through the wards undetected, you know, like house elves are able to. It's good to have a few minutes head start."
She uncorked the phial and drank the entire lot quickly. There was an immediate involuntary revulsion from deep within her and she could feel her stomach wanting to expel it she instinctively bent over the sink. It wasn't so much because of the taste but it was as if it was something foreign that just had to be churned up, much like food or water inadvertently finding its way into the wrong pipe.
"Yeah, it's awful especially the first time but believe it or not a lot better with cranberry juice," he said as she retched. "Try to hold it in. It'll pass."
True enough it did pass soon after but left her feeling hot all over. Flinching instinctively at his touch, she began thinking of what she could do about the situation she was in. He held her arm gently and reminded her not to resist.
A second later they Disapparated.
XXXXXXXXXX
Jack Muller sat at his desk and was looking at reports of more than usual Squib travel across the Canada US border for a Squib research conference in Toronto.
What Squib conference?
XXXXXXXXXX
A white van stopped at the corner of Avenue and Davenport. A young man with spiked blond hair got on through the side door and joined the two other boys in the back.
"Good morning, kid."
"Good morning, Mr. Floyd."
"Sleep well?"
"Not really. Too excited."
"You'll do fine," Waterman replied, "Things okay at home?"
"Yeah. I told my sister I was going on a field trip with some friends," the boy answered, slightly embarrassed about admitting a lie.
Waterman laughed with the other boys.
"That's actually kind of true."
"Where to, Boss?" the driver asked.
"First, breakfast; the most important meal of the day."
XXXXXXXXXX
She could hardly contain her excitement. The day she had been waiting for all her life had finally arrived. Grandma Sophie would be so proud and she'd have proven both her pro-potion father and her anti-potion mother wrong.
It was cruel fate that brought her Norwegian father and American mother to meet while on holidays in the French Riviera, falling in love and getting married, neither knowing they were distantly related and on opposing sides of the Bruin controversy until after she born. She read that in her mom's diary. They fell out of love quickly and separated.
The Bruin spent most of her young life with her mother. Neither her parents told her about the prophecy, about who she was, her heritage, her great grandmother but she grew curious about the similarities of her mom's and dad's family emblems she researched, discovered and read on Sophie Bruin she was knew she was a Bruin by the time she was a Healer. She always got the feeling that her magical father was disappointed with her and later on she realized that this was because she did not turn out to be a Squib who could be mother to the One. She decided that even though she was not the Bruin granddaughter prophesied to create it, she was going to help realize Grandma Sophie's dream.
Ted Waxball and his men were hired to help her find Bruin potion makers and any underground studies related to magical potions. She let Ted make more money by stealing other research ideas. Then they found Healer Braun two years ago and the rest was history.
It was unfortunate that Lestrange got involved last year and made it about the Janus prophecy but, as planned, Lestrange and Umber were out of the picture. There was one minor wrinkle that had to be ironed out about that. It had to do with the fact that Umber's Elder Bruin medallion was not found on him or on the Prophet reporter who discovered the bodies.
Somebody had it; somebody who most likely witnessed the entire Umber-Lestrange exchange. And if that somebody witnessed it and was able to get out of the house alive, then chances were that somebody was a Bruin.
She had a pretty good idea who that somebody was. They needed to eliminate loose ends as quickly as possible. She had sent out Quincy and Hughes to find Pia Russet.
XXXXXXXXXX
Harry quickly went across the imaginary wall into Hermione's room and knocked urgently on the bathroom door.
"Hermione!"
He did not wait for a response. Harry turned the knob and pushed the door in. Hermione was gone. He scanned quickly, the used white hotel towels on the floor, an empty phial and her phone on the sink counter, a note on the mirror.
Andy and Leo were beside him as he summoned it and read it. He was already silently berating himself for losing her.
"Fuck!"
Andy stepped out and was already on the phone to MLE dispatch. Usual procedure was to try and find any unusual magical activity in the area. Even Harry knew that was pointless. Neville was long gone.
He brushed past Leo as he stormed out of the bathroom, suddenly overcome by need for air. Thoughts about what could have happened flooded his mind. By the time Andy got off the phone with Jack he had settled on a version he was comfortable with.
"Nothing from the MLE," Andy reported what he already knew, "How did he get in?"
Leo had joined them and answered, "I found traces of Apparition and Disapparition."
"Our sensors didn't pick anything up," Andy pointed.
"We're obviously not dealing with the usual here," Harry said to them, "There was a phial on the counter. Get it to the Department of Mysteries. The answer is in there."
"What now?" Andy asked as Leo retrieved the phial.
"She wrote the note with her wand and she has it with her. There were no signs of a struggle. I think physically she's okay and will be a least until Neville gets what he wants from her."
Andy agreed, "She chose to come with him quietly."
"It would not have taken a lot to convince her not to fight him."
"So, how do we find them?"
He couldn't explain it but when he read Neville's post script he had a feeling that at some point Neville would come and find him.
"The conference starts today," he answered, "He could have easily taken her any other time while she was in London. It's not coincidence that she was here in Toronto."
"So we're back to Waterman," Andy touched his arm and apologized, "I'm so sorry, Harry."
"Forget it. It was my fault."
A beeping sound came from a portable monitor Andy had with her.
"Ginny and Dean," she said to him.
In a couple minutes the four of them were huddled inside the Auror room as Ginny told them about what she told Hermione that morning.
"It must have happened just as we got off the phone," Ginny said after, visibly concerned about Hermione.
"So Lestrange hired Creevey to keep an eye on her months ago?" Andy clarified.
"Yes."
Harry added, "Hermione thinks Neville's trying to make the potion better by replacing ingredients and that's why he needs her help. We were wondering if he had found the substitutes and that kind of explains the wait."
"You're probably right. He wouldn't need Hermione until he had that for her to work on," Ginny concurred, "It still bugs me that we're all here in Toronto."
"He said the potion is not ready," Andy replied, remembering what Neville said during the interview, "Maybe he needs something else from Toronto. Or someone else."
Dean spoke his mind, "If I was Neville and thinking about replacement ingredients I would think plants. He and Snape did a lot of weird shit with plants. I'm not sure if this is relevant but there was another person mentioned on Snape's diary, someone he also did some work with just before he started meeting regularly with Neville. Kingsley and I couldn't find him or her and when evidence against Neville became overwhelming, we thought the person unimportant. Snape referred to him as TT.
"Tilden Toots," Harry and Andy said in unison.
"Who?" Dean asked.
"I've heard that name before," Ginny remarked, trying to place it.
"I'm guessing you guys don't garden much," Andy commented, "Tilden Toots, the man with three green thumbs? He's this year's conference keynote speaker."
"The hermit who tames Devil's snare," Ginny remembered, "Neville talked about him like he was some god. He said he wouldn't miss it for the world."
Harry was already looking at his partner who guessed what he was going to ask her.
"We have to tell Jack, Harry."
"Do we really? He's already got Toots covered with protection from head to toe."
"The man will be in grave danger. At least give them the option to back out."
Harry pointed out, "They will. You know that. And what do you think Neville will do to Hermione once Toots cancels his talk and goes underground for the rest of his life? He's not going to apologize and let her go."
Dean answered, "What about getting someone else to be Toots?"
"That would involve a lot more people and Neville will likely be tipped off," Harry shot the idea down.
Ginny agreed, "The Bruin woman admitted last night they had eyes and ears at the Ministry. The problem is they have a traitor high up who has access to their spies."
"What does she mean by traitor?" Andy asked.
"An active anti-potion pretender working with Neville and Waterman, a Bruin who knows a lot about the members of the Council of Elders. Each Elder received a note from the Potion Master telling them about Dennis being a traitor and not very many people know who the Elders are except for the Elders themselves."
"Fine," Andy caved in, "But we never talked about TT or Tilden Toots today. So we're up against Longbottom, Waterman, and the Bruin traitor."
"Would that be our Mystery witch?" Dean wondered out loud.
"Longbottom said the Mystery witch was dead," Andy reminded them.
"He could be lying," Ginny postulated. "He could be protecting her."
"Okay, so she's possibly the Mystery witch," Andy conceded, "But that can also mean Longbottom may not have been entirely truthful during the interview."
"She could also possibly be the Bruin granddaughter," Dean added.
"What makes you think that?" Ginny asked.
"Lestrange was into the prophecy and so are these crazy Bruins. But the prediction says a Bruin granddaughter with Squib parents will create it. We're saying that everybody is here and everything is ready. Tilden Toots, Waterman and Neville are definitely not her and neither is Hermione. So that leaves Mystery witch unless there's some other player we don't know about."
Harry met Ginny's eye and knew there was more to the Bruin meeting than she was telling them. He would ask her later.
A bell sounded from Andy's computer close by, interrupting their conversation. They all looked over to the screen, a message in bold letters was flashing.
MATCH FOUND...
There were two pictures, one on each half of the monitor. The one on the left was that of a four or five year old girl who bore little resemblance to the one of an older woman on the right. He knew the latter, having met the witch a few times in the past few days.
Andy said to Ginny, "She doesn't have Squib parents but she is kind of 'high up there'. You can tell your Bruin friend that we may have found their traitor."
"Who is she?"
"According to your list she's Helga Lana Michelsen of Norway," Andy answered Ginny's question, "We know her as Healer Lana Hama, the Potionmaker Registry Headmistress. She also organizes the annual Toronto research conference."