(A/N: I'd like to thank all those who've reviewed the story to date: you keep me on my toes, which is how I like it. And sevenfold thanks to my beta, MirielleGrey, who gives these the once-over before I pass them along to you.
Once again, I am indebted to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. When you see it, you'll know why.)
(Disclaimer: The Potterverse belongs to Jo Rowling. Harry and Hermione belong only to themselves.)
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"Coming Back Late"
by Paracelsus
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VII: Target Lock
*
Hermione's sleep was disturbed by a very polite but persistent owl tapping at her window. Her eyes opened to full daylight. "Merlin!" she exclaimed, looking at the clock by her bed. After returning home from Grimmauld Place, she'd only intended to kip for a couple of hours… not until almost noon!
Frantically, she jumped from her bed and opened the window. The owl landed on the bed - thank goodness it hadn't decided to perch on her bare shoulder! - and offered her the parchment in its talons. It was a note from Shacklebolt's office, requesting her to meet with him over lunch.
Of course, coming from the Minister of Magic, a "request" was as good as a direct order.
Now approaching panic, Hermione grabbed her wand and raced around her bedroom, peeling off clothing as she selected clean (and coordinated) robes for wearing to the Ministry. She leapt into the shower, performed the quickest ablutions in the history of bathing, and was drying herself with her wand even as she stepped back into the bedroom. A quick Switching Spell caused the clean robes to array themselves on her body. Hermione checked the result in the mirror, smoothed a bit of recalcitrant hair, and Apparated to the Ministry with seconds to spare.
She arrived at the Minister's office to find a table set for three. Kingsley was already seated at the head of the table. The other guest was Croaker, Head of the Department of Mysteries. He regarded her woodenly as she entered.
"Madam Granger," the Minister smiled - he didn't rise to meet her, and she would have insisted he sit if he'd tried - and with a gesture invited her to join them. Their lunch was light yet tasty: slivers of fish wokked with vegetables, served over pilaf. She and Kingsley kept up a stream of small talk, with the casual ease of two former comrades of the Order of the Phoenix. Croaker maintained his wooden silence, eating lunch with mechanical precision.
Finally, Hermione sighed and set down her fork. "What may I do for you, Mr. Croaker?"
Croaker beetled his brows. "Do for me?"
"One assumes that was the purpose of our lunch today." She looked from Croaker to Shacklebolt inquiringly.
Shacklebolt glanced at Croaker and cleared his throat. "Yes, well, Madam Granger - that is, Hermione - we were wondering how well you knew Albus Dumbledore."
She blinked in surprise. "Well, we weren't exactly close… I can count on my fingers the number of times we spoke. Har…" It was her turn to clear her throat. Her voice was reasonably calm as she continued, "Harry was much closer to him than I was."
"And yet Dumbledore remembered you in his will."
"More as a way to evade Scrimgeour than anything else." Hermione grimaced at the memory of the late Minister. "I'm not saying Dumbledore and I didn't get along, but we weren't exactly bosom buddies."
Unexpectedly, Croaker spoke. "Did Dumbledore ever discuss Grindelwald with you?"
"Not really," Hermione replied, taken aback. "Of course, I know the story Skeeter put out in her book, years ago, about Dumbledore and Grindelwald being, well, very close. And everyone knows that Dumbledore was also the one who defeated Grindelwald in 1945… some say he killed him, but that's not true."
Croaker's eyes never left her. "No?"
"No. Voldemort killed Grindelwald, just a few months before the Battle of Hogwarts." Hermione returned Croaker's gaze. "He entered Nurmengard, where Grindelwald was imprisoned, and killed him there."
He inhaled sharply. "You're sure."
"Very. May I ask what this is about?"
"No." Croaker turned to Shacklebolt. "This does raise a new possibility, though I suspect the fact that Granger could give us this information remains the most likely interpretation. If you'll excuse me…"
"Does this have something to do with that blocked door in the Department of Mysteries?"
Croaker and Shacklebolt fell silent, staring at Hermione. She gave them her small, tight smile, the one she tended to reserve for elderly males: Why yes, I am that intelligent, so kind of you to notice. "Oh come now, gentlemen. I have to walk past the Department of Mysteries every time I go to the courtrooms. And your people aren't nearly as discreet as they like to think they are."
She leaned forward in her seat. "I've just proven I can help you, even if I don't know anything about your problem. Imagine how much more help I can give if I do know about your problem." She waited expectantly.
Shacklebolt finally spoke. "Croaker? Unless, of course, you have other options you're pursuing…?" Croaker scowled at the Minister, then at Hermione. She continued to wait.
"As you say," Croaker finally admitted, "there is a blocked door in the Department… as it were. The door itself can be opened, but no one can walk through the doorway now. The block comes from the inside. We first discovered the block some weeks ago; it has resisted all attempts to break through it."
"You 'discovered' the block," Hermione pounced on the word. "Do you mean it had been there longer, and you never noticed?"
"It seems probable: that room is very seldom used."
"How much longer? Which room?"
Croaker gave a tiny, stern shake of his head. The message was clear: there were some Mysteries he would still refuse to share. "More recently," he continued, "observers could see through the door a set of runes that had appeared on… inside the room. Some of them have just been deciphered. They seemed to point to you."
"Me?" asked Hermione in surprise.
"The rune for Voldemort, and the rune for Grindelwald… in conjunction with the rune symbolizing one who kills or executes. We had thought the last referred to you, since you killed Voldemort… but now, if Voldemort did indeed kill Grindelwald, the runes may refer to that event. We'll need to contact International Cooperation, and arrange to send some Unspeakables to Nurmengard… it might be important to see what's there."
Shacklebolt nodded in agreement. "I'll talk to Kerricks. In the meantime, Hermione, thank you - I'm sure Croaker appreciates your help. And I want you to know how pleased I am with your work on the Swivingham case - a bold step forward. I assume you'll want to get back to working on that?"
It was an obvious dismissal. Hermione excused herself from the table and left Shacklebolt's office to return to her own. She did indeed have interviews to arrange… but they had nothing to do with Swivingham.
*
"Oooh, Captain," cooed Tori, clinging to Ted's arm in a scathing parody of some of the older-but-less-mature witches, "what a big, shiny badge you have."
"It's magic, you know," replied Ted, keeping a perfectly straight face. "If you stroke it, it…" he paused for effect, "purrs."
"Oooo-oooo-ooooh!" she squealed in three-part harmony. "Later tonight, will you… show me?"
Ted leaned closer. "I'll show you my… badge… if you'll show me your… birthmark," he murmured suavely.
They stared soulfully into each others' eyes for a few more seconds, until they could no longer keep straight faces. They burst out laughing at the same time.
"You two are so weird," said River Jordan from behind them. "D'you think you could, like, not block the door? Some of us want to eat dinner while it's still hot." The second-year managed to push Ted to one side as he stomped into the Great Hall.
"He has a point," chuckled Ted, and the two of them joined the tide of students entering the Hall for their evening meal.
"By the way," Tori remarked as they took seats at the Gryffindor table, "which of my dormmates told you about my birthmark? I want to know who ratted."
Ted's face showed surprise. "You actually have a birthmark? I was just taking the mickey."
She eyed him skeptically, but before she could say any more, Rose approached them. "Uh, hi, guys," she said, looking wistfully at the empty seat next to Ted.
Tori gave him a Look, the one that meant Be nice. Ted sighed inwardly. "Hi, Rose, have a seat. How was Defense today?"
"Okay," Rose told him, scrambling into the seat, but she still looked nervous. She lowered her voice as she reached into her bookbag. "But, um, Professor Longbottom stopped me as class ended, and he gave me a message - and asked me to give messages to you two, too." She pulled out two small scrolls, tied with red ribbons, and handed them to Ted and Tori.
Ted quickly unrolled his scroll and read it. "He wants me to meet him in the Defense classroom after dinner tonight. He doesn't say why, though…"
"Same here," said Tori, scanning her own scroll. She glanced at Rose, who nodded and held up her own scroll. "No reason given? Teddy, what have you done now?"
"Nothing! For once, my conscience is clear." He sighed aloud this time as both Tori and Rose smirked at him. "Honest."
They ate their dinners in relative serenity, despite the fact that neither Professor Longbottom nor Headmistress McGonagall were at the head table. At the appointed hour, they excused themselves from their classmates and headed for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Ted wasn't surprised to find McGonagall and Longbottom already there. He was surprised to find his Gran there, along with four of the Weasley Clan: Bill, Fleur, Ron, and Hermione. They sat in a semi-circle of chairs near the Professor's desk - facing three empty chairs that were obviously for Ted, Tori and Rose.
Mystified, the three students took their seats. Ted expected McGonagall or Longbottom to say something, but instead Hermione stood and addressed the room. "Thank you all for coming… I appreciate it, especially on such short notice. I'm here to ask a few questions of you three." She smiled at the students reassuringly. "Let me emphasize, none of you are in trouble. But you may have some information that we need, so I'll have to question you a bit."
She gestured to the seated adults. "The Headmistress and your Head of House are here in their official capacities, to make sure I don't overstep my bounds. Given that you're all minors, I've asked your parents and guardians to be present as well."
Rose looked puzzled at that, and Ron leaned forward in his seat. "She can't be here as your mother if she's here for the Ministry," he explained softly.
"Indeed," interrupted McGonagall. "Madam Granger-Weasley, are you saying this is a formal inquiry by the Ministry? If so, are we to know what it is about?"
Hermione turned to face McGonagall. "Headmistress, I'm hoping to keep this from becoming a formal inquiry. As for what this is about…" She paused, seemed to consider, then continued, "Let's hold off on that for the moment. I promise it will all be explained." Drawing a deep breath, she concluded, "But I must ask you all to keep the results of this interview confidential - absolutely confidential. Do you agree?"
The other adults looked at one another in surprise, and a hint of concern. "We'll take wizarding oaths if you'd like, Hermione," Neville began.
"No," she cut him off with a small smile, "no, Professor, that won't be necessary. After all we've been through, I trust you all." Her gaze included Ron as she spoke. "I can rely on your discretion." She waited a moment until everyone in the room had indicated their assent, then turned back to the students.
"Rose, let's start with you. Did you bring your new book with you as I asked?"
Rose nodded and dug into her bookbag. "Here," she said, holding up a small leather-bound book. "Thank you again, Mum and Dad, it's really a cool gift! I've already used it for my first Potions essay…"
Hermione accepted the book and leafed through it. "Hmm? The pages are blank. Rose, explain to us how you've 'used' it."
"Huh? I thought you knew…" Rose looked from one adult to the next in confusion. "Well, it's sort of a catalogue of all the books in the Hogwarts library. I can… I can write a subject on the first page, and the rest of the pages will show me all the books in the library on that subject."
"I never… how cool!" blurted Ted. "A search engine for the library! Does it give you the page numbers too, and quotes?"
Rose nodded, smiling at Ted's approval.
"A wonderful gift, and very thoughtful," agreed Hermione, still looking at the book's pages. "Just one problem: I didn't give it to you. Ron, did you?" Ron shook his head.
Hermione opened the book to the front flyleaf. "Mm, but there is an inscription. 'For our budding Rose'," she read, "'in hopes that it will mean less library time and more fun time. We are so proud of you!' Which we are," she added with a smile for Rose. She held the book open and showed the flyleaf to the other adults. "Anyone recognize the handwriting?"
Ron shook his head, as did the others. "Actually, it looks artificial," suggested Bill. "Like it was written by a Quick-Quotes Quill, instead of a person."
"Artificial, yes." Hermione tapped the inscription with her wand. "Specialis Revelio," she said, and then struck the inscription more forcefully. "Specialis Revelio, dammit!" She ignored the shocked looks, from the adults as much as the students, and peered at the handwriting as it started to alter, then reverted to its stylized form.
She looked again at her daughter. "How, exactly, did you receive this gift?"
"Um, it was in my trunk, on top of my stuff," said Rose. "Wrapped with a bow and everything. That's why I thought it was from you or Dad."
"Sorry, I wish it were. We didn't put it here, which means… it had to have been put there by someone who handled your trunk after you left us." Hermione let her gaze rest on Ted's face. Ted blinked back, the perfect picture of puzzlement. Hermione gave it one more moment before she continued, "Unfortunately, Rose, you're a first-year, and so your luggage was separated from the other students'. Anyone might have had a chance to put something inside, while you were taking your boat ride across the lake."
She handed the book back to Rose. "Thank you, dear. I've no more questions for you. You can go back to Gryffindor Tower now."
McGonagall spoke up. "Actually, I wonder if I might examine the, er, search engine for a few days. I'd very much like to see if we could duplicate the charms that make it work… it sounds like something that would make a most welcome addition to the Hogwarts library." Her unspoken corollary, that it was an unfair advantage if only one student had access to it, was understood by all. Looking very downcast, Rose surrendered the book to her Headmistress.
"You can stay here if you like, Rose," volunteered Ron. "I reckon you've a right to know what's going on." He gave Hermione a dark look that said he'd argue the point - loudly and strongly - if she objected. She shrugged and turned back to the students.
"Victoire," she said, "would you please tell us about your bouillabaisse." Hermione noted with inner satisfaction that Ted's face went perfectly blank at those words.
Relishing the attention, Tori told what happened at the Idée Fixe on her date with Ted. "The sous-chef must have Disapparated when he heard me coming," she finished. "From that, and the elf-made wine in the soup, I concluded he must be a wizard. The waiter called him Clayman, but I'd never of a wizarding family of that name, so I deduce he must be Muggleborn, which correlates with his desire to work amongst Muggles…"
"Thank you, Victoire," said Fleur firmly. The girl subsided, but her shining eyes never left Hermione.
"Teddy, how did you come to choose that particular restaurant?" Hermione asked.
Ted shrugged slightly. "I found their website on the Internet, and they'd got a lot of very good reviews. I wanted to take Tori someplace special."
"Did you know Chef Clayman was a wizard before you made the reservations?"
"Um… well, our first hint was when Tori jumped up from the table and headed for the kitchen. I couldn't even taste anything special about the soup." He smiled at his girlfriend. "Some of us have better-trained taste buds, I guess."
"Did you know Chef Clayman?" Hermione met Ted head-on and looked him squarely in the eye. "Have you ever spoken with him?"
Ted spread his hands. "Sorry," he replied easily, "that was the first time I'd ever been to the restaurant."
"Is that a 'no'?"
He gave a sigh of long suffering at the density of the adult mind. "That would be a 'no'."
Hermione kept her gaze locked on Ted. He looked back at her, sincerity written across his features. Finally, she gave him a gentle smile. "Do you know, Mr. Lupin," she said softly, "if I didn't already know the truth, I'd have believed your every word."
She spun in place to face Andromeda Tonks. "Mrs. Tonks, as Mr. Lupin's legal guardian, I must ask your permission to administer Veritaserum." Gone were the gentle smile and soft voice: the Senior Counsel for the Wizengamot was speaking now.
"One moment, Madam Granger-Weasley!" McGonagall protested.
"Headmistress, he has just crossed the line. Everything he's said has been evasive, never directly answering the question… surely you noticed? But his last answer was an out-and-out lie." Hermione's eyes flashed with indignation and a hint of anger as she looked from Neville to McGonagall. "I cannot permit false testimony to impede this investigation."
There was a moment of silence, broken by Neville's quiet voice. "I trust you, Hermione. As Teddy's Head of House, I concur with whatever you decide." He glanced at McGonagall, pinch-lipped but raising no objections, then looked at Andromeda. "Well?"
Andromeda sighed and nodded her permission. "You're as bad as your mother, Teddy," she added.
"I keep telling you: my name is Ted," he fumed rebelliously.
Hermione snorted. "Well then, Ted…" She reached into her pocket and brought out a vial of clear liquid. Stepping over to Neville's desk, she poured a small tumbler of water from a carafe sitting there. Carefully, she tipped three drops of Veritaserum into the water. Putting the vial back into her pocket with one hand, she offered the tumbler to Ted with the other.
He accepted it with an air of injured resignation. "If this is what it takes for you to trust me…" He poured the potion down his throat. He waited a second, regarding the adults with a cocked eyebrow that said Are you satisfied? before offering the empty tumbler back to Hermione. She reached for it…
… and as their hands touched, her hidden hand flashed out of her pocket and slapped his outstretched hand. "Ow!" he cried, dropping the tumbler. It shattered on the stone floor as everyone reacted with shock.
She gave a superior smile and showed the adults the needle she'd palmed in her hand. In dawning horror, Ted looked at it, then at his own hand, where a drop of blood had oozed from the slight puncture wound.
"Should you choose to take up criminology as a career," Hermione told Tori didactically, "you'll learn why Veritaserum isn't usually given to witnesses during a trial. It's considered untrustworthy… because you can't be sure you've dosed your witness. The defendant's lawyer, or someone in the audience, can Transfigure it into water… heavens, the witness himself can do it as he drinks, before it hits his stomach, if he's good at wandless magic."
She drew her wand and, with a murmured "Reparo," reassembled the shards of the broken tumbler.
"But…" Tori looked at Ted. "But Teddy can't do wandless magic…"
"No, but he is a full metamorphmagus. He can extrude a pouch on the inside of his throat and catch the Veritaserum in that. And we'd have all believed his testimony implicitly, because after all, we saw him drink it." Hermione gave Ted a mocking smile and laid the end of her wand against his larynx. A quick whisper, and she smacked the wand against his throat, causing him to involuntarily gulp.
"Oh, what a shame, Mr. Lupin," she continued. "Now you've had a double dose of Veritaserum." She waited a moment, until his eyes turned slightly glassy. Then she leaned over him. "Your name?"
"Ted Remus Lupin," he gritted out.
She flicked a fingernail on his Captain's badge. "What position do you play on the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"
"Chaser."
"Who taught you how to use your metamorph powers to evade Veritaserum?"
Ted tried to clamp his lips together, but the truth forced itself out. "Harry Potter."
"WHAT!?" cried several of the adults, but Ron's voice was the loudest. He jumped to his feet. "What, is he insane!? How the hell… Are you … Is Harry really alive, then!?"
"I don't know," said Ted.
"Ronald! Please take your seat and don't interrupt!" snapped Hermione. In a calmer tone, she continued, "By the way, Tori, this is another disadvantage to Veritaserum: you have to choose your questions carefully. The way Ron phrased his last question allowed Mr. Lupin to answer as he did… after all, Harry could have died since they last spoke." Hermione swept her gaze commandingly over the others, making sure there would be no further interruptions, before turning back to Ted. "When did you last speak with Harry?"
"The night I took Tori to the Idée Fixe."
"To warn him he'd been outed as Jacob Clayman?"
"Yes."
"When did you speak to him before that?"
"During the summer… early July."
"For what purpose?"
"He had something he wanted me to give Rose."
"The 'search-engine' book?"
"Yes."
Rose had been watching Ted and Hermione during their exchange, her gaze bouncing back and forth like a tennis ball at Wimbledon. At this last admission, she did a double-take and stared at Ted with an awe that bordered on worship.
"When did he first contact you, Ted?"
"He directly contacted me the summer after my eleventh birthday. Indirectly, he'd been sending me birthday gifts in secret since I was five."
"Why all the secrecy?"
"He never told me."
"Why do you think?"
"I don't know."
"All right, then. Why did he contact you, as opposed to anyone else?"
"I'm his godson."
Hermione paused, and her expression softened slightly. "Oh, of course. A wizard's debt. He had no choice." Her face hardened again. "Where is he now?"
"On holiday."
"Where did he say he was going?"
"Switzerland. A place called Reichenbach Falls."
Everyone in the room was startled when Hermione threw back her head and laughed uproariously. "Touché, Harry!" she cried. She calmed down after a moment and added, mostly to herself, "Of course, that might be his way of telling us not to come after him…" Seeing the bewildered looks on the adults' faces, she explained, "Reichenbach Falls is where a famous hero in Muggle fiction faked his death to avoid enemies. It's a message, don't you see?"
She looked again at Ted's glazed expression. Her laughter had quite died as she asked, "Did he ever say why he felt he had to fake his death?"
"No."
"Did he give you any hints?"
Ted swallowed nervously. "When he told me I couldn't tell anyone he was alive… he said something under his breath. I couldn't hear it clearly."
"What did it sound like?"
"He said it was because… because his death was hollow. Something like that."
Hermione froze. Face pale, she stood motionless for almost a minute. "Oh, sweet Merlin," she finally whispered, "it can't be…"
"Hermione?" Fleur asked in alarm. "Hermione, what is it?"
"It's… it's…" Hermione gathered herself and turned once more to McGonagall. "Headmistress, I think we've finished with the interviews here. Could we go back to your office?"
"My office?" McGonagall was looking confused, a rare sight.
Hermione addressed the stunned adults, her manner again turning brisk. "I had some evidence before coming tonight that Harry might be alive: the wand on display in the Ministry atrium isn't his wand, it's a Transfigured twig! Tomorrow I intend to apply for an exhumation order, and confirm that the body buried in Harry's tomb is likewise a Transfigured fake."
There was a general outcry of protest from the adults at the idea of disturbing the Chosen One's tomb. This time, Neville's voice carried over the rest. "Hold on, Hermione, I was right there. I saw it… it was Harry's body, I'm absolutely sure…"
"And I was sure that was Harry's wand, Neville, but we were both wrong. There's no question in my mind but that Harry's alive right now, and in hiding. Until we can find him, I remind all of you to keep this to yourselves. Tori, Rose, would you please escort Ted back to Gryffindor Tower? He's going to need a good night's sleep before that double dose of Veritaserum finally wears off. Neville, Fleur, Bill, Ron, Dromeda, thank you again. Headmistress, we really need to go to your office."
McGonagall found herself being bustled down the corridor by a bushy-haired force of nature. Hermione seemed absolutely committed to - fixated on, obsessed by - whatever tasks lay before her. For once in her life, McGonagall was unsure what to say or do. Finally, she brought up a point that had occurred to her during Ted Lupin's questioning.
"Madam Granger..." By this point in the evening, the single name seemed more appropriate than the hyphenated surnames. "If you believe Mr. Potter is still alive, and you're intent on finding him… well, I'm surprised that you didn't ask Mr. Lupin if he had any way of contacting Mr. Potter."
A faint smile graced Hermione's lips. "No. No, I didn't, did I?"