They landed with a jolt and Ron would have ended up on the floor if Harry hadn't quickly grabbed him by the elbow. Hermione didn't even spare a glance to her surroundings. Immediately she conjured a chair and shoved Ron into it before casting her wand over him.
Other than a busted rib and a chunk of flesh missing from passing spellfire he was healthy. Remembering a spell for closing wounds she tore the fabric of his trousers and only winced slightly at the sight before doing what she could for him. His leg immediately relaxed and he sat back in the chair with a sigh. "Thanks, Hermione," he said with relief, and she patted his knee.
She opened the bag and Accio'd some salve that would ease the burning sensation, and after applying it and repairing the torn trousers and healing the rib she finally looked up.
She had heard Harry moving about her while she'd been working on Ron, but hadn't bothered to look around. If possible, this place was even worse than the one they had just left.
It looked like a prison cell; six feet wide at the most and just long enough to fit a cot and a small table. Dank and dark didn't even begin to describe the room. A single bulb was attached to the ceiling and it sputtered so frequently she couldn't consider it a reliable form of light.
"Where in the bloody hell are we?" Ron blurted out, his lip curled in obvious disgust.
Hermione slowly rose to her feet, a scurrying noise in the shadows to her left making her wish she had paid a bit more attention before she'd dropped to the floor.
Harry brushed past her as he erected more wards, and she heard the familiar squelching sound as the door was barred from any possible entry.
"We're in Norway, just outside of Bergen, on the coast of the North Sea," he said distractedly, and spun in place before running his fingers through his hair and muttering something to himself that she couldn't quite hear.
"Harry," she said gently, but he didn't seem to notice. "Harry," she said again, this time catching his arm as he passed, which wasn't difficult considering how tight the confines were.
Finally he looked at her and she could see the fear and strain he was feeling. "Sit, and let me look at you," she insisted. He started to shake her off but she tightened her grip. "Sit," she said firmly, and he actually listened, sinking into the chair Ron had recently vacated. "You can tell us while I patch you up," she said in a tone that let him know she wasn't going to take no for an answer.
He sighed heavily and nodded his acquiescence. She began to comb her fingers through his hair, searching for any lacerations or bumps before moving on to repairing his glasses. He gave her a small smile at the action.
"This is one of my bolt-holes," he explained. At the furrow of her brow he continued, "I have several places around the continent where it's safer and more convenient for me to have someplace established that only I know about. They're usually stocked with supplies, have a place to sleep, and are inconspicuous." She nodded for him to continue as she picked up his hand to inspect the wound on the back.
Harry winced at her prodding. "Some are in hotels, hostels, a sublet or two. Some aren't even proper dwellings, just an abandoned building or warehouse, but they give me a place to go to if I need to hide."
"And we need to hide right now?" Hermione asked, dabbing some of the burn salve on his hand.
Harry just nodded tightly. And then it hit her where he had said they were. "We're in Norway!" she exclaimed and both boys turned their heads toward her sharply.
Before either could reply she kept going, the jar in her hand forgotten. "Harry, that's what he said, the man who came to your flat. He said `Tell him about Norway', but he...he died before he could tell me what he meant."
Without realizing what he was doing, Hermione suddenly found herself in the chair, Harry now standing over her. "What do you mean? He specifically mentioned Norway?" Harry practically sputtered.
"Yes, Harry. He said, `Tell him about Norway,' and...Oh gods! Rookwood," she said, almost to herself as she recalled the rest of what Harry's contact had told her.
Harry was now kneeling in front of her and had her by the shoulders, the look in his eye almost frightening. "What about Rookwood, Hermione?" he said, his tone cold.
An unsettling feeling lay low in her stomach and she wanted to look to Ron for support, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Harry. "He said..." she began, and then took a deep breath before continuing, "He said to tell you that Rookwood was here, or rather that he was there, in St. Petersburg, and that he was part of it. But I don't know what it is."
"Did he say anything else?"
"He said that you were in danger and that...that what you thought was possible was true and that you were being watched," she recalled, haltingly.
Harry's face paled slightly at this but she didn't dare ask him what it meant right then. "Think. Anything else, at all? It may not have seemed important to you." Harry demanded, his hands unknowingly growing tighter where he held her.
She raised an arm as far as she could and laid her hand on his chest. "Harry, I promise, that's all he said. He didn't live very long." Her last words came out choked.
His hands loosened and slid down her arms to take her hands in his. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that," he said softly.
"It's not your fault," she replied, stroking a hand over his head for one quiet moment. "Now, are you going to tell me what happened to you two and how you knew to come to Norway?"
Harry let go of her and scrubbed his hands across his face before rising. "We didn't even make it to the club," he said seriously. "My contact was late meeting us, and I was about to leave when he finally showed. He was worried, nervous...I should have just left right then, but he's always been solid so I waited to hear him out." His hands went through his hair again, raking through the already untidy mess.
Ron leaned against the door, watching.
"He just started throwing information at me. Some I already knew, but he mentioned Norway. Said that the attacks on the three of us were just the beginning and was mainly a way to get us out of the picture before the real `work' began," he sneered as he obviously quoted the word, his disgust evident.
"What's the `real' work?" she asked, not sure if she wanted the answer.
"That's what we still don't know. He just said that Norway was next and then we were surrounded. He was killed immediately," Harry said wearily. "We got out of there as soon as we could." Out the corner of her eye she saw Ron blanch and turn away slightly. She wondered how many they had killed.
"But he didn't say anything about Rookwood?" she questioned. "They both said something about Norway..." she trailed off
"No, nothing about him." A muscle in Harry's jaw ticked at the mention of the Death Eaters name. "That's what I do not understand. No one has heard about Rookwood since the battle at Hogwarts. He disappeared with Voldemort's other top flunkies."
"How many have been caught?" Ron finally asked.
"Not as many as we would have liked," Harry admitted. "It's not my area, believe it or not. But I still try and keep up to speed on what's going on with them. And, I have to admit that when my mission in Russia started dealing with anti-Muggle sentiment, I immediately thought there had to be Death Eater involvement, even though I have no evidence to back that up."
"Your hunches have usually been pretty good, mate," Ron stated.
"From the reports I've seen, there are plenty of Death Eaters still out there, maybe reformed, although I doubt it. I figure most are either lying in wait for the next `Dark Lord' to appear or they've run underground." Harry sighed heavily. "It's possible something is already being organized and this is the first we're hearing about it."
Silence fell over the small room and Hermione felt like all the breath had left her lungs as she contemplated the ramifications of what Harry was saying.
"What could be happening in Norway?" she asked
Harry exhaled slowly. "No idea. Norway isn't a hotbed of magical activity. They have a small population of wizards scattered across the country, but nothing substantial. We have some inter-agency cooperation with their department of law enforcement, but it's really just for show."
"There was that article about the wizard that died in Norway, right? The one you spotted in the paper?" she asked, chewing on her thumbnail as she tried to work out what could possibly be going on here. "He was the mayor, right? Found in his bed one morning, no history of anything..." Wizards didn't typically die in their sleep, especially not at a relatively young age like the mayor.
Harry nodded. "Local authorities investigated though, and didn't find any evidence of foul play. I think the healer in charge said it was some sort of undetected heart condition..." his eyes locked with hers as they both realized how completely ridiculous a statement like that was in the magical world.
Ron looked back and forth between them. "But wizards don't have undetected medical conditions," he said unnecessarily.
"Exactly," Harry replied, slapping his hand on his thigh in frustration at not having spotted it sooner.
"So you think he was..." Ron began.
"Murdered," Harry and Hermione answered simultaneously.
"But why?" she asked. It still didn't make sense that the mayor of a small Norwegian town would be murdered.
Ron was quiet before he suddenly spoke up. "I know why I'd knock off the mayor." When Harry looked at him he went on. "I'd knock him off so I could put someone else in his place."
Hermione let out a small gasp: It was brilliant; simple, but brilliant. Harry was already digging around in her bag. "I'm writing to Kingsley. I need to know everything about this mayor, who replaced him, and anything else we have on the country. And also if we've had any word on Rookwood since the war." As soon as the letter was written, Fawkes appeared and was then gone just as quickly.
Hermione let her heart rate settle some and cast a glance around the room. "Harry, this may work when it's just you, but I don't know how we're going to fit in here."
For the first time since they had arrived, Harry seemed to also take a look about and realize exactly where he had brought them. "Ah...well..." he began and then she waved him off with her hand as an idea struck.
"Vanish that cot and then clear over to the side," she said to the boys before reaching into the magical bag and searching for something.
Ron did as she asked, and when she saw they had cleared the floor she pulled out their old tent from the Horcrux hunt.
"Brilliant!" she heard Ron exclaim.
There was just enough room side to side to set it up and soon enough they were in the bigger on the inside tent.
"Home sweet home," Ron said sardonically and Harry quirked a lip.
Not only had Harry set up wards on the room, he was now setting them up on the tent itself. Part of her thought it was a bit of overkill, but another part was glad to see him doing it.
Ron immediately set to putting the kettle on and pulling out any perishable food they still had. "No point letting it go to waste," he said at her look, and she could only nod.
She took over one half of the large table and began to spread out the papers and files, while Harry cast the spell to bring up their magical map. She made sure to put the newspaper that had the story about the Norwegian mayor on top; she wanted another look at that one.
When she was done she walked over to where Harry stood, feet apart, arms crossed, almost glaring at the map. She slipped a hand under his elbow and leaned into his side wanting to both give and receive some comfort.
She knew when he realized she was there because his arm raised and he dropped it over her shoulders, pulling her in closer. "You alright?" he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair. Hermione let her eyes fall shut for a moment. "Yeah," she replied, and they both turned their attention to the map.
She focused on Norway and found their current location quite quickly. The town where the mayor had been killed wasn't that far away, but it wasn't terribly close either. She raised a hand to rub tired eyes and then jerked it back in shock. She still had Peter's blood all over her.
Pulling away from Harry, she stumbled quickly for the other corner of the tent where an ever-refilling basin sat and scrubbed harshly at her stained fingers.
Harry was right behind her, and she barely noticed as he pulled his wand and did a cleansing spell. The blood vanished but she still could feel it on her, and his actions didn't deter her from continuing to try to physically remove the evidence herself. She could hear him talking but couldn't make out what he was saying.
Finally his hands closed over hers and pulled them from the bowl. Wrapped around her from behind, he walked her away from the basin and held her until her breathing returned to normal.
"Sorry," she said, finally. "I just couldn't get..." but he cut her off.
"Stop. It's fine," he assured her and she turned in his embrace so she could rest her head on his chest.
"Tea's ready," Ron called from the kitchen area. She began to draw back but Harry's hands captured her face and he gave her a hard kiss before they headed for the table.
"Thanks, mate," Harry said as they sat down and Ron just shrugged in acknowledgement.
Hermione took a cup of tea and a biscuit before moving to the other end where she had laid out the papers. The article on the mayor was short, no more than a paragraph really, and from it she gleaned no new information. With a sigh she set it aside and found the articles for the break in at a magical museum in Germany and a missing person case in Bulgaria.
They were also frustratingly brief and held no hidden clues that she could discern. The break in hadn't actually resulted in a theft. The only reason it had even made the paper was because it was the largest magical museum outside of Great Britain. Why go through the trouble of breaking through highly advanced wards if you weren't going to take anything?
She must have had a puzzled expression on her face because Ron spoke up. "You've got something, haven't you?"
"I'm not sure," she said distractedly, not noticing as he and Harry made their way toward her end of the table. "This break in at the museum… At first it doesn't seem like it's important..."
"But nothing was taken, right?" Ron asked.
"Precisely. The wards weren't tripped. Whoever did this did so exceptionally well. They got in and out of a highly secure building without being detected. The only reason anyone even knew there was an intruder is because a security guard saw a person in black exiting the building."
Harry sat back, lost in thought. "The article says a thorough search revealed that nothing was missing," Hermione added, her tone leading.
"If nothing was missing, why break in?" Ron said.
"They made an exchange." Harry stated. "They took what they wanted and put a duplicate in its place."
"Like the locket," she said breathlessly, and Harry's eyes locked on hers. "Yes. And like the mayor. Someone is putting pawns in place."
Ron sat back in his chair with a thud.
"When Fawkes returns we'll need to send Kingsley another message. He'll need to have the entire building searched," Harry said, getting up from the table and beginning to pace.
"That could take days, Harry. Almost every object in that building could have some sort of magical property that could be used somehow. Maybe we could narrow the search by only looking at artifacts that were imbued with dark magic?" she suggested, knowing that time was not something they had a lot of.
"Well we don't really have any other choice now, do we!" Harry said angrily and stalked to the front of the tent.
Hermione sank back in her chair, weary. She didn't know how many time zones they had jumped in the past twelve hours. She didn't even know what the local time was currently, much less what her body clock thought it was. Ron began to say something but she waved him off. Harry needed a minute to fuss and fume. When he was done she'd go to him.
She shut her eyes and tried to center her erratic thoughts. Ron was quiet as well, and when she finally heard nothing but silence coming from Harry's direction she sat up.
"Go, get some rest. I'll take the first watch," Ron said.
"You sure?" she asked, but was already half out of her seat.
"I'm sure. I just need some time to..." and he trailed off, not looking at her.
She stood behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You alright? With what happened tonight?" After his reaction to the attack at the Burrow she was worried about him.
"I'm good, but I'm not going to be able to go to sleep just yet, so you may as well."
She didn't say anything else, just walked to the front of the tent and found Harry sitting on the side of a cot with his head in his hands.
He didn't look up when she stood before him, so instead of engaging him she flicked her wand and enlarged the cot a bit. Harry didn't resist when she pushed him over to his side. He even pulled his legs up on the bed without her prodding, and when she climbed in behind him and pressed her head into his back she felt him relax slightly.
She wasn't sure she'd be able to sleep, but she did, not waking until she felt Harry sit straight up, Fawkes hovering in mid air before them.
The magical bird waited patiently while Harry hastily scribbled a second note to Kingsley, muttering to himself about how he should have done this before he went to sleep. Soon enough Fawkes was gone again, and they presumably had answers about Norway.
The note Fawkes had brought was brief, and as they made their way back to the table she could tell Harry was nervous about what it might say.
Ron was where she had left him, still nursing what appeared to be the same pot of tea; maybe she hadn't been asleep that long.
Harry collapsed in the first chair he came to and she settled in the one next to him. He paused for only a moment before reading. His eyes scanned once, then twice, and he handed it to her with no remark, but there was a twitch in his jaw that concerned her.
"What's it say?" Ron asked impatiently.
Hermione picked it up and began reading. "Not much. Kingsley says they're working on getting more intel, but at the moment all they can say was that the mayor was replaced by the deputy mayor who has only lived in the town for three years. Apparently there was a vacancy when the former deputy moved away and this...Alexander Carson won on a write in ballot. They know nothing else, but Kingsley has requested a copy of the post-mortem; not that the Norwegian ministry has to comply," she added, knowing that the request would be seen as strange. She hadn't read aloud the part where Kingsley assured Harry that Peter's body would be removed from the flat and all evidence of what had happened there be erased. She knew it had affected him when he had read it and he didn't need to hear it as well.
Harry sat, stony faced and quiet. Ron held out his hand and she passed the note on and then got up, moving to where the map hung in the air.
"You think this Carson is our guy?" Ron asked after reading it for himself.
She lifted a shoulder, not turning to look at him. "I don't know, but it's suspicious how he just came to hold both offices. I wonder if the first deputy mayor's relocation wasn't planned," she said offhand, but had to consider it was a definite possibility.
She didn't know how staring at the map could possibly help, but there was a connection between these places, and Rookwood was somehow in this mess as well. Kingsley had added a brief post script that they would pull anything on Rookwood's whereabouts after Hogwarts and send them when it was compiled, but she wasn't holding out hope that it would get them anywhere.
In her mind's eye she saw the battle at school, the last time she had seen Rookwood, and then as if a switch had been flipped she suddenly knew what the connection was and what they had been missing.
"Oh my gods," she said low, and reached a hand out to grab the table for support as her stomach plummeted and her blood ran cold.
Harry was at her side in an instant, and she heard the harsh scrape of Ron's chair as he stood suddenly.
She turned frightened eyes to Harry. "I know what they're planning."