Chapter Twelve - Revelations among Friends
Consciousness returned, and with it the blissful awareness of the absence of pain. Hermione kept her eyes closed and quietly reveled in the sheer bliss of not hurting. The feel of clean institutional quality sheets and that faint antiseptic smell that marks medical facilities worldwide, magical or muggle, told her that she was once again waking up in a hospital bed. Hearing a quiet snoring to her right, she smiled, as she knew Ron was with her. In the back of her mind, she could feel that quiet comfort that was Harry. As always, she realized.
"He's extremely annoyed with you, you know." Harry's voice caused her eyes to pop wide open. Looking around, she could see Ron sleeping in a chair at her bedside, his wand tucked under his arm as he slept. Sitting in another chair across the brightly lit room, Harry was sprawled, looking at her with a strange look on his face. Relief mixed with regret, along with something else she couldn't quite place.
"Hello Harry, I honestly didn't expect it to take quite that long for me to call for you to rescue me, I feel like a total idiot." Grinning guiltily, Hermione tried to figure out why Harry was looking at her so strangely. "What happened after I made my dramatic exit?"
Sighing, Harry popped himself out of the chair with a move that indicated just how much time he spent working out. Strolling over to the bed, he perched himself on the edge of it as he took her hand. "Hermione, you scared both of us to death, not to mention Kingsley and half the senior aurors."
Looking puzzled, Hermione asked warily. "Harry, what happened back in London that I don't know about?"
"Well, as soon as you went missing, for what turned out to be the second time, we reported it to Bethune and Kingsley. I told Kingsley and Ron went down to Centaur Relations and began raising a ruckus until they finally called Francis in. I understand that even the night watch down in the Department of Mysteries heard parts of his `discussion' with Francis." Smiling wryly, he gripped her hand tightly. "There's more, but I'm not certain I should be the one to tell you."
Returning the squeeze, Hermione ruffled Ron's hair with her free hand while she looked up at Harry. "Harry, you might as well get it out now so I can wrap my head around it before Ron wakes and starts telling me how worried he's been. Once he starts on that, it'll be a couple of days before we get around to the specifics."
Sighing, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think that's going to happen this time. The two days you were gone changed things, changed him. Anyway, when you started your performance for the deluminator, I thought Kingsley was going to have a muggle heart attack right there on the spot. He and Dawlish were both convinced that whatever had happened to you had left you more than a bit unhinged and you were going off the deep end."
Blushing a furious crimson, Hermione looked up at Harry totally aghast. "How many people heard my little improv?"
"Other than Ron and I? Well Kingsley and Bethune both happened to be in the ready room. Along with two full squads of Aurors on combat alert."
"Oh. My. Stars. I can't believe that you two would drag that many people in on this. What were you thinking?"
"What were we thinking?" Ron's voice broke into the conversation; Hermione turned her head towards him and saw him looking at her with a strange look in his eye. "What were we thinking? We were thinking that someone had taken you, Merlin only knows whom, and we knew that you were being tortured for two solid days. Hermione, if you weren't in a hospital bed I'd probably shake you until some sense came into that head of yours."
A bit taken aback by the intensity in Ron's look and voice, Hermione grabbed his hand and looked him dead in the eye. "Ron, before you finish scolding me, answer me one question truthfully." Waiting for his wary nod, she continued. "How many times did your heart stop beating in the field hospital in Norway? Remember? It was after that assault that went pear shaped when your and Harry's team were assisting the Norwegian ministry last spring?"
Boring her gaze deep into his eyes, she lowered her voice. "Was it six? Seven? No, wait; it was eight bloody times they had to restart your heart. Eight bloody chances for you to leave us. And there I was, sitting in Swansea interviewing some poxy cousin of the Malfoys who wanted a house-elf to replace their last one that disappeared under mysterious circumstances. All I knew was that something wasn't right but I had to smile at that prat and wait for three bloody days before I heard that you were `fine'."
Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her voice got husky. "I love you and Harry more than I can ever tell either of you, and the fact that you both love me is one of the great joys of my life. Before anything else, we're best mates, and that goes back a long time. I realize it was a chancy thing this time, but it was no chancier than what you and he face every time you two leave the Ministry."
Reaching out, she cupped his cheek and leaned toward him and placed a very tender kiss on his cheek. "This is who I am, just as this is who you and Harry are. We're the bloody `Golden Trio' according to the Prophet and this is what we do." Looking around, she grabbed Harry's hand and pulled it over to rest on top of hers and Ron's. "Are any of us likely to suddenly become `Jane sit by the fire' and take up knitting because we suddenly realized what we do is dangerous?"
Looking between the two of them, she could see that they both cared deeply about her, and they were actually listening to her. "Before I tell you both everything that happened, I want to know three things." Looking from Ron to Harry, she waited until they both nodded their assent before she continued. "One, exactly how bad was it at the Ministry because of my little performance. Two, exactly how did you two `know' I was being tortured. And three, what happened when you two popped into wherever I was?" Leaning back onto her pillows she smiled. "Let's go for four, exactly how bad is my cover blown and who was that witch that captured me? Well gentlemen?"
Shaking his head, Ron got up from his chair and perched on the bed, on the other side of her from Harry. "Well, as Harry said, there were two combat teams of aurors waiting to rescue you, along with Kingsley and Bethune, and a medical team. Dudley's fiancé Chastity was heading that one up. I suppose that I'll survive having you call me "Ickle Ronniekins" in front of the Minister of Magic, the Ministry's secret spymaster and a couple of dozen other folks I have to work with on a regular basis." Watching Hermione blush, Ron leaned over and kissed her forehead.
"And I suppose I can eventually convince Seamus that you really aren't carrying a grudge against his new fiancé over something that happened quite that long ago, though I did have to swear an oath that, as far as I knew, Lavender had never been in your flat and you were just making this up as you went along."
Waiting for Hermione's blush to deepen to a shade of crimson to rival any Weasley blush in recent history, he added. "You do know that Lavender has taken an entry level position with the Department of Mysteries? It seems her graduate work in Divination has been very promising."
Grinning, he squeezed Hermione's hand to keep her from pulling it loose to hide her face. "Harry, I've been told that no one's ever actually died from embarrassment, do you think we should call in a healer before we continue? " Grinning at his best friend, he saw Harry crack an embarrassed smile at what was coming next.
"I think she's strong enough to take it like a Gryffindor. Might as well get it over with. You'd hate for her to rat us out to Molly if we don't do what she wants.'
Growling in frustration, Hermione closed her eyes, hoping she was still asleep and this was all a very embarrassing dream. Reopening her eyes and seeing her two best friends still sitting on her bed with grins on their faces, she sighed. "I am a Gryffindor so I suppose I can handle what's next. Is there anything else about my little impromptu wireless broadcast that I should know?" Seeing both of them begin to blush, she began to worry. "What is it?"
Coughing Harry dropped his eyes from hers and seemed very interested in the tile on the floor beside the bed. Looking over at Ron, who was blushing and trying not to laugh, she started to worry even more. "Hermione," Ron began, "I think that's part of the third question. Harry, do you want to take questions two and four for Miss Granger?"
Still blushing, Harry looked back up from the floor and coughed. "Right, yes. Starting with four, your cover is still intact. Kingsley and I immediately put it out that you were taken by a group of American Death-Eater fan boys who refuse to believe that Riddle is dead. They were trying to make you `confess' to knowing where Riddle is so they could rescue him and go on their merry demented way conquering the world."
Seeing the look on her face, he shrugged. "There is a group of idiots over here that refuses to believe that Voldemort's dead, they think we have him locked up somewhere or he's in hiding. Francis was merely there representing your boss and because there are a couple of herds of centaurs running around some of the American National Forests so we were reaching out to them for help in locating you." Shaking his head, Harry grinned. "It would appear that your secret is safe, Dr. Gayle." *
Ignoring the indelicate snort from Hermione and the look of confusion from Ron, Harry continued. "Your hostess, on the other hand, has quite the colorful history." Getting that faraway look he got when he was reciting from his mental notes, Harry shrugged. "Deidre Comstock, age approximately eighty-four, originally from the state of Nevada, she's been an official resident of Alaska for the past forty years or so."
Seeing the amused look on Hermione's face, he shrugged. "What can I say? Some of these American states are a bit laid back in their attitudes towards record keeping and in cooperating with the other states and nations. Though the Alaskan Bureau lost track of her about ten years ago, she has quite the documented past of being more than a bit unstable and rabidly anti-muggle. Which is surprising since her grandfather was apparently a squib who lived most of his adult life as a muggle, mining in the American West until he died under `mysterious circumstances' in Montana back in the 1870's. Since he was well known in some of the muggle communities in the area, the Marshals that found the body made it look as if he had killed himself with a muggle handgun. Their report, however, made mention that he was found dead, without a mark, in the middle of an area that made no sense for him to be in if he was actually looking for gold."
Shaking her head, Hermione stared at Harry for a second. "As fascinating as all that is, I'm not certain how this helps explain my ending up in his granddaughter's tender care."
Nodding, Harry smiled mysteriously at her while Ron snorted again. Glaring at Ron, she turned her attention back to Harry. "Well? You two obviously know something so spill."
Nodding, Harry smiled. "Back in 1870, it didn't mean anything to anyone, but there was a magical tattoo on Comstock's arm." Reaching into his pocket, Harry pulled out a very old square of glass in a metal frame and held it out to her. "Here's a magical ambrotype of the body."
Taking the magical precursor to enchanted photographs from Harry, Hermione studied both the artifact and the scene portrayed. Trapped in a elegantly etched silver case, Hermione marveled at the work that had gone into transferring a moving, magical image to a six inch square piece of glass. Gently nudging the image of one of the Marshalls out of the way, she focused on the forearm of the corpse lying on the ground. Shaking her head, she stared at Harry. "Merlin's wand, is that what I think it is?"
Nodding, Harry smiled grimly. "Almost. It's not a Dark Mark, but we now think that it's the mark Tom Riddle used as inspiration to create his magical tattoo." Looking back down at the depicted mark, Hermione could see the subtle differences between the marks that branded the fanatical followers of Lord Voldemort and this mark that graced the arm of someone over one hundred and thirty years ago.
Trying to focus on the image, Hermione found what was different from this mark and the one she had seen all too clearly too many times. "That's not a human skull. Some sort of bird I would hazard to guess."
Nodding, Harry sighed. "Yes, and that's one of the things that's giving people in our Ministry and the American Bureaus nightmares. If the serpent is meant to symbolize Slytherin, then the appearance of a phoenix skull in this mark leads to all sorts of unpleasant thoughts."
Swallowing, Hermione shook her head. "Let me guess. His darling granddaughter had one also?" Seeing Harry's nod, she chuckled. "So much for Grandfather Comstock being a squib."
Nodding in agreement, Ron smirked. "Our thoughts exactly. He spent a lifetime passing as a muggle, which should have been totally out of character for someone who venerated old Salazar. And you might be interested to know that all four of your playmates from Chamber West had the same sort of brand on them. Your friend Oscar said to tell you that this was a departure for them; the ones they had captured prior to this didn't have that mark."
"Curiouser and curiouser." Looking thoughtful, Hermione glanced between the two of them. "A cult dedicated to bringing Slytherin back? That makes no sense, you can't raise the dead."
"Maybe he's not dead." Blushing that he had spoken aloud, Ron looked from Harry to Hermione with a defiant look. "Perhaps he's only mostly dead. They don't list a date of death for him; they simply mention that he `disappeared'. The rest of the founders are all chronicled as to when they passed away, but Slytherin just up and walked away years before."
Looking down at the floor beside Ron's chair, Harry shook his head and grinned. "Which `they' would that be?"
Blushing, Ron shrugged. "I'm not certain. While we were waiting for Sleeping Beauty here to decide to wake up, I did some reading and research."
Looking puzzled, Hermione followed Harry's gaze to the floor beside Ron's chair. Looking up, she glared. "What in the name of Carnac is my copy of Hogwarts: a History doing on the floor?"
Shaking his head and giving Harry a despairing look, Ron shrugged. "I fell asleep reading it while we were waiting for you to wake up."
Hermione stared at him in disbelief for several seconds before she started laughing. Clutching her side, she shook her head as her face started to turn a bit pink. "Ron, after nine years, you had to travel 3700 miles and find me unconscious and half dead before you opened up that book?"
Looking to Harry for support, Ron lowered his head. "It wasn't exactly like that, you know." Shaking his head, he nodded towards Harry. "Actually, this would be Harry's fault. He's the one who brought it,"
Stopping laughing, Hermione looked up at Harry. Staring at him for a few seconds, she shook her head. Holding out her hand, she silently summoned the book to her. As it came to rest in her hand, she gently opened the front cover and read the inscription. "It's the one you bought for me that summer after everything was over." Shyly looking up at him, she smiled. "You said it would be the last one safe to read because the newer ones would be full of dreadful accounts of the things we did. Did you bring it with you or did you go back for it once you knew I was safe?"
Blushing, Harry smiled and looked at her. "I went to your flat after you lost consciousness that last time before we jumped. I guess I `knew' that the next time you were going to be able to let us know where you were, so I thought it would be appropriate. I was certain you'd want something to read while you were recovering."
Sitting up, she clutched the book to her and leaned over and kissed Ron gently on the cheek. "Thank you." Leaning back, she levitated the book to a spot on the small stand beside her bed. "You were saying that you don't think Slytherin's dead?"
Ron turned to Harry and gave him a questioning look. Seeing Harry's smile, he shook his head and continued. "We were thinking that old Salazar might have gone a different route than Tom Riddle did. Instead of Horcruxes to gain immortality, he might have used a different, but equally disturbing, path."
Arching an eyebrow, Hermione smiled. "I'm listening."
Blushing a bit, Ron nodded. "Well, Irving put us in touch with some researchers at one of the local schools here in America. While we were a bit general in describing the situation to them, they immediately started pulling out scrolls and codexes from the Mayan and Aztecan cultures in Central America." Pausing for dramatic effect, he nodded. "Where they venerate serpents, among other things. The researchers suggested that an individual with the proper motivation, no morals or scruples to speak of, and plenty of time to prepare could utilize a couple of these rituals to give them a new lease on life, so to speak." Seeing the confused look on Hermione's face, he smiled.
Shaking her head, Hermione fixed him with a Minerva class glare. "Ron, if there's a point to be made here, could we get to it."
Shaking his head, he sighed. "Right. According to the researchers at the Western Reserve Institute of Thaumaturgy, there are references to an ancient codex that instructs someone in how to prepare a resting place, construct a specific ritual, and then they almost commit suicide using a special potion which takes fifteen years to brew. The potion takes them to the brink of death, and they wait there at Death's door until someone comes along and performs the required ritual and they're brought back with a brand spanking new lifespan."
Shaking her head, Hermione looked at Harry who was shrugging and then back to Ron. "That totally makes no sense at all. It violates one of the basic magical laws regarding healing, the TINSTAAFL** principle." Seeing the blank looks on their faces, she sighed. "TINSTAAFL. It's been known for centuries, but an American coined the name a while back. It stands for `There Is No Such Thing As A Free Lunch'. I don't care how powerful a wizard Salazar Slytherin is or was, he can't conjure a renewed life force out of thin air."
Nodding, Ron agreed. "And this doesn't violate your tin staff thingy. This is where the part about having dodgy morals comes in. It's also helpful if you have greedy and not too bright followers. The ritual requires the individual to be almost dead for at least as long as they were alive when they drank the potion. The ritual takes three people to cast, a pair of purebloods and a muggle. Obviously, the muggle isn't involved in the casting, but the other two think that the muggle is the sacrifice that brings old Salazar back. When they sacrifice the muggle, the energy released by that death rips loose the life force from the other two and transfers it to the waiting almost corpse"
Nodding at the scandalized look on Hermione's face, Harry sighed. "We're thinking that Slytherin set up some sort of cult or society when he did this and instructed them to wait for a period of time before they brought him back. Since they had access to the rituals for almost two hundred years, at least, by the time came to kick off his return, someone in this group figured out the catch in the plan. So they've been trying to find a group of dupes to con into making the sacrifice and bringing Salazar back. The ritual requires the two venerate, or at least highly respect, the individual being brought back, so you just can't go and pick up losers off the sidewalk to accomplish this."
Nodding, Hermione looked at both of them and smiled. "It's about time you two started doing some of the heavy lifting around here. This mystery group is trying to use either the Order of the Hidden Path, who venerates Slytherin, or the leftover Death Eaters, who venerate Voldemort as the Heir of Slytherin, to fuel Salazar's return. Brilliant." Looking at her boys with pride, she smiled. "What did Comstock have to say about all of this when you finally got to question her?"
Shaking his head, Harry closed his eyes. Hermione could feel the acute sense of failure radiating from him, and she instinctively reached out and placed her hand on his. "Lost her in the interrogation, correct?"
Nodding, Harry opened his eyes. "She wasn't our prisoner, but it wasn't the local Bureau's fault. They had to wait a couple of days until the healers said she was healthy enough to question. They got permission from the local court to utilize Veritaserum, and everything seemed to be ready to go. Unfortunately, after the opening questions to gauge her reaction to the potions, they asked the loaded question first." Seeing the look in Hermione's eyes, he shook his head. "Apparently, there was some version of the Unbreakable Vow in use because as soon as she said the name of the person who was her contact in Britain, it released the stasis spell on an ashwinder egg that had been implanted in her skull. Brainfried in a matter of seconds, and there wasn't anything anyone could do to stop it." Shaking his head, he grimaced. "The Chief Forensic Healer said the egg must have been unplottable, it didn't show up on any of test they did when she was admitted here."
Her face paling a bit, Hermione could feel the guilt radiating off Harry. "Its fine, you did everything you could. You can't account for fanatics like that. I'm just glad that most of the Death Eaters who are left are cowards enough that they'll sell out their comrades to save their own poxy hides."
Shaking his head, Harry looked at her for several seconds before answering. "I'd feel a bit better about it if we had gotten a name we could use. No one I've spoken of at the Ministry has ever heard of this witch."
Looking over at Ron for conformation, Hermione nodded. "Did you check with the Americans?"
Seeing him roll his eyes, Hermione tensed expecting him to lash out at her for asking him something like that. Instead, he merely chuckled and shrugged. "Oi, of course we did, they were doing the interrogation so their people were there when it happened. They haven't heard of old Viola either."
Blinking in surprise, Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Viola?"
Nodding in response, Ron chuckled. "Heck of a name for the key player in the plot to bring a centuries gone madman back to life, but apparently we're looking for Viola T. Hortense."
Shaking her head, Hermione looked at Harry for a second. She could sense that he had the same nagging feeling of familiarity with that name that she did. "We've heard that before, haven't we?"
Looking a bit guilty, Harry slowly shook his head. "More like I've read that name somewhere, but for the life of me I can't remember where. The only thing that comes to mind is Privet Drive, and I can't imagine Vernon allowing the name of a witch anywhere around the house if he could help it." Still looking guilty, Harry blushed a bit. "Before I forget, Petunia sends her love and I'm not supposed to mention she's mad at me for letting you go off on your own and get into trouble."
Smiling at the mention of Harry's aunt who had changed greatly over the past couple of years, since the family's year in hiding from the Death Eaters, she nodded. "Give her a call tonight and let her know I'm recovering nicely and it's not your fault in the least. And ask her about our mystery witch to see if she recognizes the name." Blushing a bit, Hermione was about to ask another question when Harry held up his hand.
"We've been talking to your folks twice a day since we got here. We'll let them know you're awake and you'll call as soon as we can get you down the hall to the solarium." Seeing the look on her face, he smiled. "They have one of those old fashioned telephones that you have to crank and then tell the operator what number you want down there so that people can call out from the hospital grounds. Apparently someone convinced the local phone company that it's part of a historical site, so they have the connection set up to a local operator who connects the calls through for them." Seeing her eyes light up, both Harry and Ron laughed.
"As soon as you can walk that far without fainting, we'll take you down there so you can call Helen and Alex." Smiling, Ron noted the look on her face.
Shaking her head, Hermione shot back. "I don't faint. That's a very girly thing to do and so not me."
Nodding at Harry to forestall any further discussion of her `fainting' Hermione smiled. "I think we've just about beat this hippogriff as much as we can. Care to try for question number two?"
"As for question two, this is one of the things we don't understand. I could feel echoes of what was happening to you." Ignoring Ron's look of disbelief, Harry nodded to her.
Becoming serious, he laid his hand on hers. "It wasn't the pain, but I could feel you feeling the pain in my head. The healers are going to give you a full rundown, but that witch broke almost every bone in your body at least once during those two days. She'd half heal them and then torture you again. Chastity was totally amazed that you were conscious, much less upright and casting spells without a wand. It was pretty unnerving for us, all we knew was that someone was hurting you very badly but we couldn't get any sort of clue where you were. You never actually spoke any words to us; Ron and I lived with the deluminators hoping to hear something. About two hours after the last time the pain stopped, I felt you wake up. That's when we called for the two assault teams."
Staring at Harry, Hermione narrowed her eyes. Deep down, everything he had just said, except for the last bit, seemed `off'. The whole explanation about how they knew she was being tortured was wrong. Now that she thought about it, she knew she could feel Harry's concern and love for her through it every minute of that ordeal, and for the first time she felt a bit of distance creep between them as he blatantly lied to her. Staring at him, she captured his gaze, looking deep into his emerald eyes. She could see behind the masks he wore, most of the time, and she could see the fear and love he had for her. Trying to reassure him, she waited, but she wasn't quite certain what she was waiting for.
Shaking his head, Harry's voice faltered before continuing. "'Mione, Ron and I were both half convinced that we were going to find you in the same condition that Alice and Frank Longbottom are in. I don't think I was ever so scared in my life." Tears were forming in his eyes, and looking over at Ron she could see he was openly crying.
Shaking her head, Hermione looked at both Harry and Ron with tear filled eyes. "I think that part of this was either a bit of outside help from my fairy godmother or it's one of the changes she was talking about. " Seeing the mystified looks on their faces, she gave them a brief rundown of her encounter with the elven queen, leaving out all of the cryptic comments regarding her relationships with Harry and Ron other than to say she seemed to think the three of them were closely linked.
"My guess is that either she was watching and strengthened the existing connection between the two of us, considering this a way to `help' me without violating her precious rules or the changes that occurred to me because of my contact with the Fairy flag allowed me to reach out to you unconsciously because I knew you two would rescue me" Squeezing their hands, she smiled at each of them. "I can think of worse side effects of spending time with the elves"
Watching them brighten up a bit, she added, "But that still leaves us with question number three." Watching them warily both seemed very interested in looking at anything in the room but her. "Well gentlemen?"
Harry looked at Ron imploringly. Ron shook his head. "Harry we agreed, you'd tell her if she asked."
"Come now, it can't be that bad." Hermione insisted. "I'll start it and you can finish up. There I was, doing my best Lady Macbeth with a side order of fishwife impersonation when the pair of you portkey into the room. Start by explaining that and then you can tell me what is so distressing."
Seeing the look in Ron's eyes, Harry shrugged and started talking. "We knew that the deluminator Dumbledore left Ron would work and I never doubted that the one you created would work just as well. As soon as you said she was standing in the bedroom door, we both nodded to each other and gave the go signal to the assault teams. They were planning on following on, using this." Holding up a gold coin, Harry smiled."
Looking amazed, Hermione shook her head and took the coin from his fingers. Gleaming in the morning light, the face of the coin was struck with the profile of Godric Gryffindor and the obverse bore the motto `Follow On!' Looking up at Harry and Ron, she smiled. "They work?"
Shaking his head, Harry laughed. "Of course they work. You're the one who created them. We practiced twice while you were taken. That Canadian you were working with helped us test them. We popped both teams across the bloody Atlantic twice and home again using them."
Nodding, Hermione sighed when Harry fell silent again. Looking over at Ron, she rolled her eyes when he simply nodded at Harry. Sighing, she took Harry's hand and started again. "There I was, doing my best Lady Macbeth with a side order of fishwife impersonation when the pair of you portkey into the room..."
Harry's cheeks began to redden again. "We got there perfectly; I took one look and confirmed the hold signal back through the coin. I suppose that you were using that glamour trick that you were telling us about. You were magnificent. You were standing there like you were some ancient Celtic queen, about to ride forth to war. You were bloody scary." Averting his eyes, Harry turned his head and mumbled something.
"Beg pardon, Harry. I didn't catch that last part."
Coughing, trying to stifle a laugh, Ron looked over to Harry to see if he was going to be able to pull himself together enough to tell her. Sighing Ron reached over, cupped his hand under Hermione's chin and turned her face towards him. "You were starkers when you were doing your madwoman act." Grinning he kept her from burying her face in her pillows.
Looking pointedly over at Harry, Ron shrugged. "Somehow, Harry got a `picture' of what was going on before we jumped, he told the assault teams to hold for our signal on the coins right as we were leaving the jump off point. As soon as we got there and got a good picture of what was going on, Harry changed everything to Plan B and we continued on alone. Not that you needed rescuing mind you, so the aurors were extra. Kingsley still doesn't have any idea why we decided not to have two full teams of aurors come storming to the rescue other than the fact you had managed to rescue yourself, we told him we were simply your ride home, so to speak."
Grinning, he nodded his head at her. "You were standing there, covered in dried blood and you were the scariest thing I'd seen in ever." Shaking his head at the memory, he continued. "You whirled around, pointed your empty hand at her and your disarming spell broke every bone in her arm. You caught the wand as if you were the seeker from the national team giving a demonstration and I thought you were about to bloody curtsey. Before either of us could think, you hit her with a stunner that would have punted her halfway across a pitch if there'd been room; she put a bloody dent in the wall she ended up against. Then you calmly turned towards us, told us you knew we'd be there, and passed out and hit the floor. Harry conjured a cloak to cover you with, knelt down and started first aid while I checked on the witch you'd knocked out."
Closing his eyes at the memory of the extent of Hermione's injuries, Ron shuddered. "That muggle girl who was with you came over to help, and Harry yelled at me to send a message to Kingsley for him to get the medical team there as fast as they could activate those coins. After that, the rest came in, secured the complex and we notified the local authorities so that Oscar and his lot would stop worrying about you and tearing the countryside apart."
Smiling sadly at her, Ron watched her blushing furiously and shooting horrified looks at Harry who was still busily examining the windowsill of Hermione's room. Looking between the two of them, he shook his head sadly as they tried to ignore each other. Ron got up from the bed, and cleared his throat. Waiting until they both looked up, he smiled. "Harry," he said, nodding towards the door, "would you mind giving us a moment? Alone?"
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A/N - * Dr. Cathy Gayle, the original female partner for John Steed from the British television series "The Avengers". Brilliant, self assured, and highly educated, she was a surprise to her adversaries, a virtual fountain of information on almost any subject, and involved in a long-running beneath the surface unresolved relationship with her partner in solving mysteries and crimes (sound like anyone we know?). Though, the usual HHR banter does lend itself more to the Emma Peel period of the show.
** Hermione knows very well that it's usually written as TANSTAAFL (There Ain't No Such Thing As A Free Lunch) but she's not about to encourage Ron or Harry in the use of slang, American or otherwise.
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