Chapter 61 - A Logical Proposal
Ginny stepped out of the huddle and into the quiet of Hermione's room as the three Aurors animatedly discussed battle strategy. They had just talked about next steps and it was clear that they had to get some of the Bruins on their side, to inform them of what they knew of Healer Hama and maybe have confirmation that she was indeed the traitor they were looking for. There was also the possibility of having them help fight as it was apparent they would need all the wands they could mobilize to counteract the kind of magic they were up against.
Getting the Bruins on board was obviously her job. She took her phone out and did the logical.
Messages...reply...shoot...number does not exist. Well, it couldn't have been that easy.
She dialed Sir Isaac's office and got an out of office recording. It was the same message that greeted her at Ecruminus Brown's line at the Association for the Protection of Squibs Headquarters. Pacing and thinking how else she could get in touch with the right set of Bruins as quickly as possible, she phoned a London number.
A friendly tone greeted her, "Gringott's, how may I help you?"
She asked to speak with her Goblin contact.
"One moment please."
The voice that came on after was understandably not half as pleasant.
"You have the wrong number."
"It's urgent."
"I'm hanging up."
The line went dead. He sounded like he was under a lot of pressure and she had never known him to be so spooked. Was he calling back? What if he didn't?
Maybe the Bruin would get in touch with her again but the woman did say she was in a delicate position. The fact that she wasn't totally honest with the Council meant Council was against what it was she was trying to do. She and her crew tried to help Hermione and Harry in the alley and Ginny doubted very much that Council approved of that. What if Council found out about what she was hiding and shut her down for good?
After a minute Ginny decided the goblin wouldn't call her back. She scrolled down her list of contacts, trying to see who else could help her. Almost at the end and losing hope, she was resigned to the fact that they were on their own and began considering the notion of telling Harry, Dean and Andy the entire truth about her conversation with the Bruin woman.
What complicated things was that she could not in good conscience tell Harry and the rest of them exactly what the Bruin and Lestrange said about Hermione. For one she had promised the Bruin woman she wouldn't tell a soul unless it was absolutely necessary. And secondly, it didn't really matter if Hermione was or wasn't the Bruin granddaughter. The urgency to get her back from Neville was not going to change. Following the discovery of the Bruin traitor and the Toronto target, all efforts were now focused on how to use the information to rescue Hermione and disrupt whatever evil plan was in the works. And lastly, if she had to tell someone she would prefer telling Hermione first. If she were Hermione, she would definitely want that.
Buzz!
Her phone vibrated suddenly startling her she almost dropped it. Caller ID was blocked off.
"Ginny Weasley," she answered.
Relief washed over her as her Gringott's contact's voice came over the receiver, even though it was chastising.
"I thought you understood. That Muggle line is not secure and with what's happened everything is being monitored."
"I had no choice. I'm in Toronto and I needed to talk to you urgently. It's about the Bruins."
"Never mention that name to me."
"Sir Isaac is dead!"
"I read your article about finding their bodies. You left out some salient parts. He would have been grateful."
It wasn't the time to celebrate her ability to filter what and what not to print.
"I need to find one of them, to deliver an important message as soon as possible. There are no words to describe how vital it is."
There was silence on the other line and then a reply, "The one you seek has gone underground. She is in possession of something that isn't rightfully hers and their Council has questioned her presence at the scene of the crime. They are looking for her too."
"I need to find her or her superior."
"Her superior and the rest of the Council have been compromised. With Isaac gone they will hinder rather than assist."
"Tell me something I can work with," she said almost begging.
Sensing her desperation, the goblin answered, "There is a funeral service, a private one in an hour. She has safe passage to pay her last respects. She may or may not show up."
"Thank you. Where?"
"The London National Memorial Park, but you will need appropriate apparel to attend."
"Do you have her name?" she asked, taking a chance.
"No. I'll see if I can find one for you."
He said he'd send suitable attire to her office. She thanked him again and hung up. An hour. There wasn't much time. She set her phone to ring and just as she did, something rang. Following the tone she got to the bathroom, her eyes searching for what she knew was Hermione's phone ringing.
Ginny picked it up and by habit glanced at caller ID. It was from Detroit. Thinking that it was about the Watermans and how it was possibly important to the case, she answered without second thought.
XXXXXXXXXX
Meanwhile in the other room, the Aurors were going over possible scenarios at the Tilden Toots talk. They agreed that Toots would likely be abducted just as Hermione was but with more firepower.
"Toots is coming directly into the meeting hall and will be most exposed the moment he gets there until he leaves about half an hour later," Andy told them what the plan was.
"Apparition and Disapparition," Dean mentioned the most obvious method of abduction that could be used.
"Likely, or use of a Portkey," Andy replied.
"Wouldn't Neville need the wards down for either?" Dean asked.
"He and Hermione went through ours as if it didn't exist," Harry answered back. "The alternative is to drag Toots out of the hall to get past the wards. We don't want that."
"Civilian roadkill," Andy knew what he was getting at.
"Unarmed wizards and witches caught in crossfire. Toots' security detail won't be as restrained as the MLE," Dean chimed in.
Andy recapped, "So we want them to come in and get out quickly but give us enough time to tag them and come with them to where they're going."
"Which would most likely be where Neville has taken Hermione," Dean added.
For that plan they needed to be really close to Toots and that meant getting Jack to assign them as his primary protection. That wasn't going to be a problem for Andy and Harry. Dean, on the other hand, had already received countless voicemails and inter-Ministry mail that Gumboil wanted him back in London.
As they weighed Dean's problem, Harry's phone rang.
"Luna?"
"Hey, Harry," Luna's cheery greeting was always a surprise. "How's it going?"
"It's crazy."
"I bet. I tried Hermione's phone but I'm getting her voice mail. Is she around? It's rather urgent."
Harry told her what happened.
"Oh no! That's not good. That's not good at all," Luna expressed her concern, "Kingsley's gone and now Hermione. It's very hard to believe that Neville is doing this."
"It is," he agreed then asked, "Does this urgent thing you're calling about have anything to do with the case?"
"No, it doesn't," Luna replied, "Wait a sec."
Loud harsh crackling came over the receiver forced Harry to distance the phone from his ear.
"I had to debug your end; too many people listening in," she explained, "I'm calling about the potion she sent me the other day."
"She sent you potion?"
"The class F one you found on the underground train; some of it anyway. I could have done much more had I had more than the eighth of a phial she sent me but she said she had to give the rest of it to some very important people so you wouldn't get in trouble."
And Hermione never thought about telling him?
"What do you have?"
"Aside from confirming what's in it, I'm afraid not much."
It took Luna about three minutes to explain what she did, how she did it and what she found; most of it was not in English he understood they kind of blew over his head. Then she said something that piqued his interest he put her on speakerphone so Andy and Dean could listen in.
"You had a Squib drink it?"
"I wanted to know what it does and how it does it," she answered plainly.
Luna went on to explain that she made sure it was non toxic to her subject and wiped the subject's memory right after, with his permission of course. Andy, who didn't know Luna, had to say it.
"You do know that you broke about half a dozen international laws by doing what you did."
"I don't know you but thank you for your concern. Of course I know I broke some rules; eight to be exact."
"You're a Ministry employee but you don't sound...disturbed."
"Unspeakables break rules all the time. How else do you think we discover new cool stuff?"
Harry asked, "Did you find anything we can use?"
"As you already guessed, the drinker gains the traits of the magical beings contained in the potion. The key magical component is the elfin tissue and the effects are temporal, its half life proportional to the concentration of the ingredient in the potion and to the frequency and extent of magical use."
"How concentrated was the one we sent to you?"
"Based on my estimation a full phial would give its drinker magical properties for about four hours before he has to replenish, sooner if he uses it to do magic. The more complex magic he uses the faster it wears out."
"Complex meaning?"
"In your situation, offensive spells."
"So, you're saying that if we can fight them magically for a couple of hours without getting killed and prevent them from drinking more potion we should be fine," Andy caught the gist. "Piece of cake."
"The second part should be easy," Luna offered. "All you have to do is destroy the phials."
"Luna, they're unbreakable," Harry reminded her.
"I built them, Harry. I know that," Luna said what he didn't want to, "They're unbreakable, not indestructible. Do you really think me irresponsible to invent something totally non-environmentally friendly? There is a spell."
Ginny walked in with a frown on her face just as Luna finished telling them what the spell was and was saying goodbye.
"I'm on my way back," Ginny said to Luna, "Can I see you as soon as I get in?"
"I'll be here," their friend replied and hung up.
Dean asked the question, "Why do you have to go back?"
"Funeral," she answered, telling him more about what her contact said, "It may be my one chance to get in touch with her. I take it you're staying."
"Be careful, okay?"
There was an unfamiliar affection in Dean's voice and when Harry saw how he and Ginny were looking at each other, he tried not to be too surprised. When did this happen?
"You too," Ginny replied with the same gentleness.
"Geez," Andy sighed with some impatience, "It's okay. Don't mind Harry and me. This is a life or death thing, huge potential for regret. What is it about you Brits and showing affection in front of others or is it just you Brits I know?"
Ginny and Dean kissed and embraced, as Andy's words about life or death and regret lingered in the air for Harry to use for himself. He pictured Hermione as he remembered their last kiss that same morning, how it was filled with tenderness and a regret that it took them so long to discover each other and finally be together. Then this happened. He could not keep himself from wondering if that was their last moment for all of eternity. A gut-wrenching pang of helplessness hit him as he thought how that was possible.
Focusing on his friends, he was happy for them, for Dean who had so much bad luck with women he fell in love with in the past and for Ginny who he knew was taking a huge leap by trusting a man with her heart again. It was amusing how things had a way of coming around. Pertinent questions would have to be asked at a much later time and it seemed the couple was not really ready to say anything either.
Just before Ginny left, she took Harry aside and said to him, "When you get Hermione back, in case she asks, tell her I've taken some of her stuff with me."
"What's going on, Gin?" he asked her as Dean and Andy were discussing Luna's suggestion, "What else did that Bruin woman say to you?"
"You know I'd tell you if I could," Ginny answered, looking him in the eye as she did, "Just find her and keep her safe."
Ginny left leaving Harry with more answers than she may have wanted him to have. How she reacted to what Dean said about why he thought their Mystery witch could be the Bruin granddaughter did not escape him. From the beginning the whole thing kept on coming back to Hermione and Lestrange hiring Dennis months before to keep an eye on her was suspect. Harry thought at first that maybe Dennis was put in place to learn what it was that she did that would help create the potion but it was apparent that it wasn't the case. It was a hunch but it grew stronger by the minute and if he was right then Ginny's secrecy was not totally unwarranted.
As far as Harry was concerned, all the players needed to make this Bruin potion were in Toronto.
XXXXXXXXXX
Hermione stood beside Neville inside a Level 5 potions lab, everything around her familiar. She was there with Harry two days ago taking the potion apart. The galloping horses inside her chest had settled down, replaced by a slow cadence of a powerful drumbeat that echoed her feeling of impending doom. She still had not come up with anything remotely resembling a plan. It wasn't her life that she was most concerned about; it was what she could do and what she could contribute that would either kill more people or make more lives miserable.
"Our host had to be at a funeral. Professor Tan extends his regrets he's not here to welcome you personally."
The quirky professor was in on this all along but nothing surprised her anymore.
"What would you like for breakfast?"
Neville was annoyingly chatty, his intrusions breaking her stream of thought. Did he really think they could have normal conversation?
"I guess you're not hungry."
She remained silent, worried about what was about to happen and plotting how to get herself out of it. It was obvious that he could have abducted her anytime even while she was still in London but he chose to do so that particular morning for a particular reason. Having no inclination to encourage communication she didn't think to ask. Whatever that reason was she would find out soon anyway.
Hermione thought about escaping but the more she did the more she realized it was not a good idea. If she were to Disapparate right now, even if she could, where would she go that he wouldn't find her? And if he couldn't find her to what lengths would he go through to get her back? It was not a difficult conclusion to make. To end this, she would have to stay. Leaving was not an option and knowing that she had to hang around simplified things a bit.
"Aren't you curious at all why I need you?"
Curious wasn't on the list of emotions she was feeling right now. She bit her lip as she tried to mask her innermost fears. It wasn't fooling Neville one bit.
"You're scared. I understand. Believe me, I mean you no harm and I don't want to hurt anyone else."
She couldn't keep her mouth shut.
"How can I believe you? All those people and beings..."
"Are already dead," he finished for her, "There's nothing you and I can do about that but we can prevent more beings from dying."
"Is that how you think you'll get me to agree to help you? Kill more if I don't?"
"That's Plan B which I hope you're not going to force me to go to."
She could only wish Plan A was something she could live with because if he got to Plan B, she already knew he wouldn't need a Plan C. But it angered her that he could nonchalantly talk about killing more people she couldn't keep the disgust she felt to herself.
"Do you even know what you've done? How can you just brush off all the life you took away? Kingsley was about to become a grandfather for the first time! One of the other Aurors was breadwinner for his seven younger brothers and sisters! Those men, women and beings you murdered were fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, friends who won't be anymore because of what you did! And you think that's justified because their deaths were a means to an end!? Nobody had to die yesterday so don't fool yourself that it was all right! And don't fool yourself that if I don't help you and you kill more beings you won't have their blood on your hands."
Her diatribe hit Neville hard. Gone were the friendly demeanor and the easy smile. In its place seriousness with such depth Hermione was taken aback. The only time she'd seen this side of Neville was a long time ago, when as a kid he first talked about what happened to his parents. It was maddening how that memory made her feel bad about the biting words she just let loose and she felt even worse when he started talking.
"I accept responsibility for each and every being who died by my hand," Neville said with a piercing sincerity she had absolutely no doubt he meant it, "I agree. Yesterday's deaths were unnecessary and so were the deaths of Firenze, Winky, Ragnok and all the nameless, faceless, countless magical beings who became part of many versions of this imperfect potion. I could even argue that that goes the same for the hundreds of Bruins who lost their lives testing and trying to create it and the countless others murdered by deranged blood relative zealots blinded by fear of some prophecy.
"But the flawed potion is out there, has been even before you and I were born. Many have already lost their lives to it, many we don't know about. How much more Bruin and magical blood have to be spilled before outsiders intervene? So as selfish as their motive was, it was actually a good thing that Ted and Tom let the Bruin secret out because now that it has the potential to kill others, more people will give a damn.
"I've done what I can. I did the necessary parts that were illegal and immoral. My hands and my heart are permanently stained by the blood of those who died and I'll live with that for the rest of my life. But replacing the existent potion with a better one is the only way to stop and prevent more deaths. I can't do it on my own. Help me put an end to this."
He took his wand out, conjured a bound inch thick manuscript and gently set it in front of her.
"Read it and if after reading what I propose you still don't want to help me, be prepared to walk away knowing that each being who dies because of the potion you chose not to improve was preventable."
Neville turned away from her and left through the door to the observation booth as one of his followers went into the lab to watch her.
His words left her speechless. She sensed his pain about having to do what he did and she disliked how his impassioned soliloquy made her feel. Hermione had to remind herself that no matter what he said nothing could justify taking another's life, that he was a cold hearted murderer and that he did not deserve sympathy for being one. She had not forgotten that Neville tried to kill Harry who had been nothing but a friend to him. She didn't forget; she just couldn't get herself to bring it up.
But she saw his point. Murders aside, the potion was already out in the open. If Neville did not agree to make it, Lestrange would have killed him and moved on to offer the next Potion Master wannabe the job. And if Neville failed to create better potion this time, there were many other potion makers in waiting, ready to unleash this defective version for whatever reason, money, power, prestige. The anti-potion Bruins had been sweeping its existence under a rug and having the few non Bruins who knew about it do the same would not work. It had come to a point when there was no room under the rug anymore. As much as she hated to admit it, she could not think of any other way to end this other than coming up with an alternative potion as Neville proposed.
Hermione looked at what he left in front of her and read the heading.
Sophie Bruin's Purple Potion
Turning the page over, her eyes flew over words on the parchments, guilty of wanting to find out what it was that he was proposing, hoping his idea was rubbish so she could dismiss it and at the same time ingenious so the mess could be fixed. The public release of a magic enabling potion seemed to be a foregone conclusion; the unwanted aftermath seemingly inevitable. Neville's proposal to give the public a better version of it was enticing particularly because the current one was just too horrifying anything else would be better.
Needless to say, she despised his Plan A because his appealing to logic and reason was working on her like a charm.
XXXXXXXXXX
It was 8:28.
Attendees were still making their way into their seats in the main conference hall. The vast space was generously peppered with bright lights, none brighter than the ones aimed on centre stage where a solitary three foot high green plant in a transparent pot had just been brought in for a demonstration. In two short minutes, celebrity and Herbologist extraordinaire Tilden Toots was going to make a rare public appearance to speak on the present and future state of his favorite subject, plants.
Tensions were high as MLE checked wands in at the door, security unequivocally as stringent as what would have been afforded any Minister of Magic. Harry and Andy were positioned with five other Aurors stage right where Toots was supposed to appear. They were to walk with him onto the stage, stand about five feet away and stay until he was done with his fifteen minute keynote presentation and the ten minutes allotted for answering audience questions. After which, Toots would Portkey back into seclusion.
Twenty five minutes. That was the window of opportunity. They discussed with Jack hypothetically when and how they thought Neville and/or Waterman would make a move if Toots was their target, agreeing that it was enough that Jack thought the possibility very likely. As protocol and as promised to Toots' personal security, all magical wards and protective spells were to be turned on except during the brief moments of the Toots arrival and departure. Jack was aware of the possibility that the wards wouldn't work but still thought that was better than nothing. The Head Auror would take them down at the first sign of trouble from Waterman or Neville so they could safely take Toots out or allow the wizard use of the emergency Portkey he had near him.
Harry glanced at the swelling crowd, white conversational noise filling the hall. There were at least seven hundred, all of them conference registered and card carrying members of the Congregation of International Magical Researchers.
On the first row, a beaming Healer Lana Hama sat as thrilled as everyone else in the room was, unaware of what they knew about her. They told Jack but got nowhere with it. There were no legal grounds to pick her up for questioning. It wasn't a crime to be a Bruin but oddly a crime to accuse one of being one, and how they found out was not exactly something they could tell Legal about. It would be difficult to explain why they had a Bruin list if it was indeed one and it was impossible to verify authenticity without dragging their source into it. Instead, they decided to have Dean sit directly behind the Witch, watchful and ready for any scenario that may arise.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
A series of pops came as expected and they drew their wands out. Jack appeared beside them with Tilden Toots and his men, and the Chief Auror immediately put the wards up. The entrance was sealed and the noise of the chatting audience died down to complete stillness.
A wizard was at the podium introducing Toots and it gave Harry the opportunity to appraise their protectee. He was huge in every sense of the word, more than six and a half feet tall and almost as wide.
We are blessed to have with us today a most distinguished and accomplished individual...
He looked ancient. The small tuft of silvery hair on his forehead, the only hair he had left, fell on his wrinkled face and was as distinctive as his three green thumbs currently concealed by a pair of gardening gloves.
His contributions to the science and art of Herbology are numerous and well known to you all, trying to list them would not do justice. Join me in welcoming our Keynote Speaker for the conference, Mr. Tilden Toots.
Tilden Toots took energetic steps onto the centre stage spotlight, causing mini-earthquakes at each step, and stood right beside the plant amidst thundering applause and a standing ovation. The Aurors and Toots' security spaced themselves and stayed in the shadows just beyond the bright lights as multiple live images of the wizard sprang up in large screens throughout the hall. He was blushing and bowing to the crowd.
As this went on every so often a disturbance in the hall would attract their attention only to be given an all clear sign. The MLE were all on edge and pounced on every suspicious movement. After a couple of minutes the applause finally died down and the multitude of eager researchers took their seats.
"I was invited today to talk about plants. I love plants. I can talk about plants all day. You don't want me to do that. Just ask my wife."
That drew laughter from his audience.
"So, what I thought I'd do today was show you what I've recently worked on. This I hope will cover the present state of the study of plants. As for the future, I am no Seer, so your guess will be as good as mine."
All eyes and ears were on Toots. He took out his wand, conjured a work stool, a table and some gardening tools.
Harry's eyes swept the crowd as well as the bodies on stage and off, trying to detect anything out of place. He observed Andy on the opposite side of the stage doing the same; she briefly nodded in his direction, signaling all was in the clear. So far.
"What drives us to invent and discover?" he asked rhetorically as he sat and levitated the plant onto the table. "For those of you who are in research and development, there are many different answers to this. Reasons vary even among purists who don't do it for money or fame. This particular discovery that I am about to demonstrate I cannot claim to be wholly my own for the idea wasn't mine to begin with."
Toots glanced offstage to his left and an assistant came out with an apple.
Thud!
Harry swung around. One of Toots' men waved him off, indicating he had knocked over a chair. The wizard on centre stage carried on.
"This is Muggle and I've altered it a bit but who can tell me what plant this is?" Toots asked the audience.
"A rose bush!" someone from the crowd shouted out quickly in a voice that Harry thought sounded very much like Waterman's.
Harry squinted in the direction of where the answer came from and saw a freckled red-head grinning from ear to ear. Not Waterman. Harry was losing it.
"Yes, thank you, young man. A rose bush, de-thorned for obvious reasons; chosen simply because we have so many at home," he explained, "This endeavor started with a frustration, not mine, but that of someone much younger and wiser than I am. I had hoped he would be here today to share this talk but he declined. He is well known for his potion work, is arguably the best potion maker of this century, and I'm certain most of you know who he is. Professor Severus Snape."
The crowd started talking amongst themselves, excited about what the best gardener and brewer had come up with, their rumbling interrupted by the grinding sound of a blender cutting up the red fruit that the gardener put in it. Toots sounded like he did not know that Snape was dead and that fit because the Ministry had not announced it.
"Professor Snape makes perfect potions but what he finds most frustrating in potionmaking is not having the rarest ingredients he needs when he needs them. He had struggled with the usual supplier excuses; plants not maturing fast enough, scarcity of unicorn hair or dragon scales, civil unrest disrupting the source of whatever it was he had to have. More than a year ago, he came to me with this crazy idea. What if we could take what it was that was desirable from something rare and be able to reproduce it ubiquitously? Not exactly original but we think we have finally come up with a positive answer to that challenge."
There was gasping from the crowd. It this was true then it was definitely groundbreaking. Toots took the now liquefied apple and poured it into another potion, mumbled a spell and decanted the bubbly thickened concoction into the transparent pot of the rose bush. The large monitors in the hall focused on the see-through container and his audience watched as the roots absorbed the gel.
"Red delicious apples are obviously not rare but I'd rather have them instead of flowers on most days."
Toots waved his wand on the plant, his face in total concentration.
Thud!
The same falling chair sound came from behind him. He didn't turn, entranced as everyone else at what was unraveling before their eyes. At the tips of branches where flower buds should have sprouted were apples. There were three, four of them, growing in size by the second, their increasing weight causing the plant to bend to the pull of gravity. Unbelievable…
Thud!
Harry glanced back in time to duck out of the way of a curse that was flying in his direction. It missed his head by inches and hit someone else.
"Stupefy!"
The man got a facial, the force of the spell causing his opponent to fall back into darkness as the crowd screamed and panicked in the background. He blocked out the mayhem around him, knowing the prick would be back on his feet. Jack was bellowing instructions. Harry scanned for Waterman and Neville, sure that either would be there.
"Get out! Now!" Toots' handler and chief security officer yelled at his employer before he got hit by a spell and joined another MLE on the stage floor.
"Harry!"
Andy. She was standing beside Toots, the transparent pot glowing in the absolutely frightened gardener's hand. It had to be his emergency Portkey, designed to take him to safety except Harry had a previous bad experience he would rather not rely on that premise. Andy had just laid a hand on it as she fired curses at someone behind him and then at another who was closing in from her flank. Harry hurriedly made his way to them knowing Andy had his back.
Pop!
Without warning, Waterman appeared behind Toots and held the wizard's trembling hand in place. From afar, Harry saw the Portkey momentarily change hues, its destination altered. His partner did not let go of the pot but was unable to fire at their adversary who was effectively using the building size Toots as a shield.
"I'm sorry but you're not invited," Waterman said to the Auror.
The asshole was about to raise a finger at Andy. Thinking fast, Harry hexed the git's arm.
"Bracchium Glacius!"
At that point, Harry was so close it had to hit the mark. The limb froze midway up as he grabbed the lip of the Portkey with his free hand. He preferred Toots to stay but with Waterman's death grip on the gardener and the Portkey, they could not risk leaving the murderer behind. A fraction of a second later they were spinning. Waterman's smug expression kept flashing before him, working his temper up to a steady boil. Harry held onto his wand tight, already thinking what he would do the moment they arrived at their destination.