"What is it?" Harry demanded, as he took her by the elbow and led her out of the room.
"I'm not sure, but we may want to bring in Jenny Dawlish for questioning," she said slowly, not wanting to believe it herself.
"What? The auror that just saved your life?" Harry asked, shocked.
"She told me she excelled at Charms. She said that the N.E.W.T examiner told her he hadn't seen anyone that good since your mother and I were students," she explained in a hushed whisper. "And from what I saw today, she'd be more than capable of creating a charm like the one used on Anderson."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose over his glasses and shut his eyes tight before responding. "Alright, but you're not going to do the interrogation," he said firmly, and she could only nod her agreement.
Harry strode from containment and motioned Ron to follow them as he did. They walked in silence back to their office, and Harry asked everyone who wanted to speak with him to wait.
Chelsea stood at the door, her ever present portfolio once again bursting, but before she could speak, Harry cut her off. "Tell the Minister we'll be up in five minutes. Have Anderson's body removed from containment, and I want a lockdown on this department. No one in or out until I give the word."
Her eyes were round in shock, and Harry didn't even wait for her to speak before they entered the office, Harry shutting and locking the door behind them.
"What the hell is going on around here?" Ron blurted out as soon as they were alone.
"I wish I knew," Harry said emphatically
"Do you think the entire Ministry is compromised?" Hermione asked.
Harry sat down heavily and tossed his glasses on the table before he scrubbed both hands roughly over his face. "I hope not. Because if it is..." He let it go unsaid because they all knew what it could mean.
"We have no idea who we can trust, do we?" Ron said.
"Outside of the Order, no," Harry replied. "Not right now. I have no idea if any of the other aurors are on our side or not."
It was a dangerous place to be. Before, they were on their own. And while that meant they had fewer resources and less authority, it also meant they weren't relying on anyone else and had anonymity, which often worked to their advantage in these situations. Now, with all three of them recruited by Kingsley and Harry as the Head, it meant they were being forced to place their trust in an institution that had been infiltrated before, and that they had just proven to be infiltrated again.
"Do we have time to fully interrogate the entire department?" Ron asked.
Harry let out a long breath and placed his glasses back on. "No. We'll have to keep it to those who we suspect. Right now, that's the rest of Anderson's team and Jenny Dawlish."
"You spent the day with her Hermione. She saved you for Merlin's sake; do you really think she's a plant?" Ron voiced what she had already thought.
"I think we've all seen what my track record has been with detecting dark wizards. I lived with one for three years and had no idea, so let's keep my opinion out of this," she replied, upset that once again her gut instinct about someone could be proven wrong.
"Ron, can you handle the interrogation while we go speak to Kingsley? I don't trust anyone else to do it," Harry said, and Ron nodded.
When they exited the office, the entire bullpen was silent. All eyes watched as Ron headed back to containment, and she and Harry walked side by side toward the lifts.
His hand grasped hers in the car and she squeezed back, not letting go until the doors opened on the correct level.
Kingsley's office was already open, and much like before, he was waiting for them. With a wave of his hand the doors shut as soon as they had entered.
"Hell of a first day, Kingsley," Harry said acerbically as he fell into the nearest chair with no attempt at grace.
Kingsley sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Harry. I had no idea Anderson was bad."
Harry waved him off. "How were you to know? This has been years in the making and we're just waking up to it."
"Are you alright, Hermione?" Kingsley asked.
"I'm fine," she answered. "Quite tired of people attempting to kill me, but fine."
"Ron's interrogating Jenny Dawlish as we speak," Harry said. "There's a chance she's been developing some of the spells the other side has been using."
"Dawlish? John Dawlish's girl? Are you certain?" The disbelief in Kingsley's voice was evident.
"Not certain, but Anderson died due to a very complicated charm. Dawlish is apparently top rate at Charms work. It's not much to go on, but we couldn't not look into it," Harry explained.
"No, you couldn't." the Minister agreed, looking aged beyond his years. "Any more on how the Prophet was published?"
Harry gave Hermione a quick look. "Some of this will be news to you as well, `Mione. Chelsea received more reports while you were in with Anderson," he said. "It appears that the man in charge of printing had an apprentice that was also a plant; a man by the name of Yarborough. We've got a team looking for him, but he seems to have disappeared. Yarborough apparently confunded Mr. Cavendash, the printer, and then obliviated him after changing the afternoon edition. He also used Imperius on the delivery owls so that they would do the afternoon delivery early."
That would explain why the owls were so agitated, Hermione thought, and how Yarborough knew how the printing of the paper operated.
"How long had he been an apprentice?" Kingsley asked.
"At least two years," Harry answered.
"Do we know if Yarborough was put in place specifically by the Death Eaters or if he was approached after he already had the position?"
"We don't know. Either is a possibility," Harry said.
The room was silent for a long moment before Harry got slowly to his feet. "I haven't even had a chance to meet with the teams from the other schools yet. One poor chap has been sitting by for a floo call for hours. I'll let you know what we find out about Dawlish," he said to Kingsley.
"I'd like to meet with you before you leave for the night, Harry," Kingsley requested.
Harry gave a scoffing laugh. "You assume I'm leaving, Sir." With that, they were once again making their way towards the lifts.
Ron was waiting in the office when they returned. He leaned back against the main table with his arms and legs crossed and an unreadable expression on his face.
Hermione came to a halt in front of him, her hands twisting in apprehension. Harry waited at her side.
"She's clean," Ron said, and Hermione let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. "She's bright and clever, and caught on to what I was asking about, but none of her answers led me to think she's involved in any way."
"That's something, I suppose," Harry said, and she knew the worry of the entire department being overrun had been weighing on him.
A thought struck her. "Why didn't Seraphina Dolohov die as well? She was asked who she was working for."
Ron and Harry were silent for a moment at her question. "Maybe because she didn't know? She did say that her father kept that information from her on purpose," Ron speculated.
"We'll have to be careful how we question suspects in the future," Harry said. "We won't want to risk the charm activating and losing them. Has the rest of Anderson's team been questioned yet?"
"No, not yet," Ron stated.
"Good," Harry nodded. "I'll start those after I do these briefings." He ran a tired hand through his hair.
"I could do them," Ron offered.
"No, you need to start working on the profiles of the families. Take a couple of hours and get started on that," Harry said, and Ron gathered a few things before he headed out the door.
"What about you?" Harry asked her as he ran one hand under her robes to the small of her back and pulled her towards him.
She let herself relax against him for a brief moment. "I'm going to start digging through all of this," she said with a sweep of her hand to indicate the ever growing pile of files, briefs, and messages that had been accumulating all day. "If I make any headway I'll come over and help with the interrogations."
"Deal," Harry said with forced joviality and smacked a loud kiss on her mouth. She pushed him away with a laugh.
"Go," she ordered, and he gave her a mock salute before he left as well.
Alone in the room, she surveyed the mess before her and shook her head. Chelsea had dumped anything she had received onto every flat surface she could find, and if there was a pattern to be found, it was not immediately apparent.
She unhooked her robes, threw them over the nearest chair, and began to sort through the files in front of her.
Two hours later, Hermione stood with her hands on her hips as she studied the map that floated before her. The fingers of her right hand unconsciously played with the edge of her badge as she was lost in thought.
"I like the new hardware," a voice said across from her. She looked up to see Bill on the other side of the table. She hadn't even heard him come in.
She ran a hand over her hair and blew out a long breath. "Sorry Bill, I didn't see you there. What, now?"
He nodded towards her belt. "Your badge; it suits you."
"Oh, well, Kingsley didn't exactly give me a choice so...I'm sure when this is over I'll be returning it."
"I don't know why you'd say that. You're good," he said with a smile. "Harry around? I've got some information for him from the bank."
"He went to a briefing. It should be over soon," Hermione supplied, not mentioning the interrogations he would also be busy with.
Bill cleared his throat before he spoke. "I heard about what happened at the Prophet," he said quietly, and she thought that maybe this was the real reason he came by after all. "You alright?"
"I'm fine. Just a bump on the head, nothing serious." She replied in all honesty and was touched by his concern.
"I heard someone tried to push you off a four story high staircase. Sounds pretty serious to me," he said quickly.
"Honestly, you're as bad as Harry and Ron," she admonished. "It's a war, Bill; there are no guarantees."
"Yeah." He grew quiet and then tapped the folder he held on the table once. "I'll go check in with Dad and Perce and be back in a bit," he said, and then she was once again alone.
She hadn't made a lot of headway with the files. Since the Prophet had been published, there had been numerous false reports of Muggles at Hogwarts, in Diagon Alley, and at Hogsmeade. Regardless though, they had to at least investigated, and it was stretching the already short staffed department very thin. A memo had flown in a bit ago that said Harry had withdrawn the lock down on the department; he hadn't had much of a choice.
The Prophet had issued a retraction an hour earlier stating that the article was false and there was no reason to believe a Muggle invasion was imminent. Hermione was sure that it would do nothing towards quelling the fears of those who were already willing to believe the worst. Voldemort was still too fresh in everyone's mind. There had only been a few years of peace; nowhere near enough time for people to not jump when they heard news such as this.
The psychological impact was almost more dangerous than any actual attacks that had been made. Fear was such a primal motivator, it caused otherwise rational people to just react without thought and without regard for consequence. Hermione was quite sure that was exactly what the mastermind behind this plan had intended.
Her stomach grumbled loudly and she honestly couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. When Ron and Harry were back she was going to insist they take thirty minutes and go to the canteen whether Harry liked it or not. She was about to head over to containment and see if Harry needed help when the door opened and Ron came in.
His shoulders were slumped, his head was down, and he headed straight for the chair at the end of the table and collapsed in it, not even looking at her.
"How'd your meeting go?" she asked unnecessarily.
He gave a snort of derision and tossed a file onto the table. "Why the hell did Kingsley give me this job?"
Hermione walked over and sat on the edge of the table in front of him. "What happened?"
"These guys don't trust me. They don't know me. They've been doing this for years, and I've had this damn badge for hours. We've put a lockdown on the department. We've been interrogating their coworkers. Not to mention they've just found out one of their own was a traitor.." He threw the badge in anger and it landed on the folder. "And honestly, I don't blame them for not trusting me."
"Don't say that!" she admonished.
"Why not? What exactly did I do during the war? I abandoned you two halfway through," he spat out, hand pressed in a fist against his forehead as if he was trying to physically remove the memories.
She started to speak, but he cut her off even though he wasn't even looking at her. "No. Don't deny it; it's fact. And we've never talked about it. After I came back it was just insane, and then when the war was over...no one wanted to call me on it because of Fred, and then...you two left and...Now we're here and it's just sitting there and it eats at me every day."
She was shocked silent. Ron leaving had been difficult, but he'd come back and she'd never thought on it again, but apparently he had.
"Ron...you shouldn't think like that. You came back," she tried, but he wasn't able to hear her.
"Did you know Kingsley offered me a job in the Auror department after the war?" Her mouth fell open at this. Ron had never even hinted at such a thing, and she knew what such an important position would have meant to him.
"I turned him down. Told him I needed to help George with the shop. But really...I just really thought I didn't deserve it," he admitted, and sounded so forlorn her heart ached for him.
Hermione slid off the table and knelt next to his chair. "Ron," she began gently, and laid a hand on his knee. "You came back. You always came back. Yes, your temper would get the best of you, but eventually you'd see sense and you always came back. Most people would be too prideful to do that. They'd throw everything away because they couldn't bring themselves to admit they were wrong, especially me." His hand fell and his eyes locked on hers at that admission.
"Don't look so shocked. You know I don't like being wrong." He couldn't help the turn of his mouth at this. "You came back. That's important. And don't act like you haven't been contributing here. You've seen things both Harry and I have missed. I told Harry this earlier. We may not want to do this, but we're good at it. So we're going to do this again, and finish it." Her voice rang with a finality such that he couldn't help but nod his agreement.
"So how do I get these guys to respect me?" he asked.
"You don't ask for it, you earn it. You do your job. If they choose not to do theirs because they're jealous or upset, that's their problem and either Harry or Kingsley will deal with it. Don't let their behavior affect how you work. You know what you're talking about. I trust you, Harry trusts you, and the Minister trusts you. What else do you really need?" she asked with a smile.
"I know. That's just a lot harder than it sounds," he said and looked at her sheepishly, "Hermione, you're really...you're really ok that I left?"
"Honestly, Ron. Yes," she said, slightly exasperated. "Besides, if you hadn't left, well...Harry and I..." and she let her words fade on purpose, grinning as Ron flushed red.
"Oi! Come on!" he shouted and jumped to his feet to move away from her, but she noticed he picked his badge back up as he did. "In the tent? Merlin, Hermione! That was not something I needed to know about!"
She ignored his protest and stood up calmly, brushing her hands down the front of her trousers. "Sorry, Ron," she said in mock sincerity.
He just glared at her and she smirked in response, letting her gaze travel to his badge and back. He gave a knowing shake of his head and a nod as if she had just scored a point in a duel. "Touche', Granger."
"Now, have you learned anything yet about these Death Eaters' children, wives, husbands, nieces, nephews...anything?" she asked.
Ron opened the file in front of him. "Yeah, some. I wanted to tell Harry when he got back."
"Tell Harry what?"
Hermione looked over and saw Harry paused in the doorway. Chelsea was so close on his heels she almost ran into him when he stopped. Hermione saw his nostrils flare in annoyance and could tell he was tense.
She met him halfway across the room. "Everything alright?" she asked worriedly, her fingers brushing his arm in concern.
"They've captured Yarborough," he said with a tight voice, and then turned to Chelsea. "Give us a minute." His fingers flicked at the door to shut it as she backed out.
"Where is he?" Hermione asked.
"They're bringing him in now," Harry said, but there was something he wasn't telling them.
"What is it?" she demanded.
"It's possible Anderson got to him while they were at the paper. He may have been obliviated," Harry told them, and any hope she had that they could use Yarborough to get the information they needed vanished.
Ron swore loudly. "Is there any way to recover his memories?" he asked.
"Possibly. A specialist from St. Mungo's is on the way." Harry didn't sound very hopeful it was going to work. "It could take hours for them to determine if he could be questioned."
Hermione wandered over to the table, lost in thought. "Is it possible to determine if he has the same charm in place as Anderson had? If so we could potentially disarm it or remove it prior to questioning and not risk killing him."
Harry considered her question. "I think it wouldn't hurt to find out. Maybe that's something Jenny Dawlish could look into."
Hermione's eye lit up at his suggestion. "That's perfect! Let me send her a note and then you can tell us about the briefings. Oh, and Bill came by earlier looking for you."
She scribbled a quick directive and hoped the young auror wouldn't be too traumatized by her earlier interrogation to perform this task.
"Did Bill say what he wanted?" Harry asked.
She shook her head. "No, he just said he had some information from the bank."
Harry's jaw tightened at this. "What is it?" she asked.
"He may know who tipped off the other side the day you went to Diagon Alley," he said gruffly.
A response stuck in her throat, and it was quiet until Ron stepped forward. "So, what's going on at the other schools?" he said, forced, not sounding quite right either.
"Nothing. That's the problem," Harry said angrily. "The areas around the school are silent. There is no indication that anything is in the works at any of the locations."
"Could be he doesn't intend on hitting any more schools, just wants us to think he is," Ron suggested, and Harry nodded.
"I thought of that. But then what about all the other links to the schools? Are these people really that detailed that they would leave false trails years in the making?" he asked, frustration evident.
"I think what they've proven so far is there is nothing they won't do; so yes, I do believe it's possible they've left fake trails. I also believe they intend on attacking every single one of those schools and we can't assume they won't." Hermione said decisively.
Harry sighed deeply and turned to Ron. "What about what you're working on? What do we know about the Death Eaters' kids?"
Ron strode to the table and opened up several files. "We don't know a lot, which is kind of strange. Other than Malfoy and a few others, the majority of the Death Eaters kept their little darlings close to home. Most were home schooled, had private tutors, or were sent away to places like Durmstrang."
The files he had opened were woefully thin, and other than a few birth records and marriage certificates that had been pulled from the Ministry archives, there wasn't much to go on.
"For example, the Dolohovs," Ron said, pulling out on folder that was only slightly thicker than the others. "Seraphina's birth record is here, but so is one for another child, a Dominic Dolohov, current age twenty seven. We have no idea where he lives, what he looks like...nothing."
Hermione pulled the file towards her to get a better look.
"Considering how close Dolohov kept Seraphina and how he trained her and planted her at Hermione's school, we can only guess that he's done the same with Dominic. The man is probably embedded deep somewhere and no one has any clue who he is." Ron's voice was rough with emotion
"What about the rest? Rookwood, Macnair, and the Carrows?" Harry asked.
Ron just shrugged. "Nothing yet. We're still working on it," he said, and looked away quickly as though he were ashamed, although Hermione knew it was due to his feelings about being given this position.
Harry paced the length of the room as he attempted to process everything he had heard today. "We are getting nowhere!" he shouted in frustration. "Every time we make any bit of progress, something sets us back again. Who the hell are these people!?"
"Harry, why don't we go take a break and get our heads out of this just for a little bit," Hermione suggested. Harry shot her a look she fully expected to receive.
"We don't have time for a break," Harry said, his voice short and impatient.
"You haven't eaten all day, neither have I, and I'm amazed that Ron is capable of even standing right now. We need to eat, clear our heads, and just get away from this for half an hour." She grasped the front of his robes and forced him to look down at her. "Please."
He stared her down for a long minute.
"Alright," he capitulated, and she kissed him quick in thanks before grabbing her robes off the chair where she had left them hours earlier.
Ron was the first one out of the office and had a hand on the lift door waiting for them when they caught up.
"Hungry, Ron?" she asked lightly, and he sent her a mock glare.
"Hurry up, you lot. Canteen isn't exactly a feast at Hogwarts, but it's food," he said.
Harry leaned heavily on the wall of the car as they rose, and she mirrored his position on the other side. Only then did she allow herself to feel the fatigue that had begun to sink in.
They rose two levels without stopping; the Ministry was quiet this time of night. One more floor passed and then there was a massive explosion of force from below them. The car gave a violent shake before they were all knocked to the floor.
Ron's head hit the glass wall with a sickening crack and his body went slack. Harry attempted to dive on top of her, but the car shook again and fell.
Metal beams and the wooden frame of the lift bent and cracked. She could only watch in horror as Harry was hit from behind, his glasses flying from his face as he too slumped forward, unconscious.
Hermione was thrown into the far corner and tried to pull her way towards Harry, but a beam had fallen across her legs and she was trapped.
Time seemed to slow as she looked up and saw the sides of the lift shaft collapsing in on them. There was nothing above them that could provide protection and they were continuing their descent. She didn't want to think what would happen if they hit the bottom.
She struggled to pull her wand from her holster and without thinking cast Aresto Momentum and Protego in quick succession. She felt the pull on her magic immediately as the shield charm wanted to collapse above them due to the strain of keeping the lift car from plummeting.
Smoke was filling the space, and she could hear fire licking above and below. Her wand hand shook, partly from fear and partly from exertion. She didn't know how long she'd be able to hold them up.
It was a long two minutes while all she could hear was the fire, and all she could see was the smoke getting thicker, making it harder to breathe. There was no possible way she could cast anything to put out the fire or clear the air.
Finally, there were sounds from above.
"Hello! Is anyone down there!" came a familiar voice.
"Arthur!" she cried, and then had to force herself to focus as the car shifted.
"Hermione, is that you? Are Ron and Harry with you?" he called down.
"Yes!" she answered.
"Just a tick and we'll have you out," he said evenly.
"No!" she screamed. The two spells she had hold of were both tenuous at best. She had no idea what would happen if someone else tried to take over the spell for her. "You can't! I'm keeping us up, and keeping the roof from caving in," she panted out. The effort it took to even speak shocked her.
There was a long pause and then she heard who she thought had to be Bill say, "Sweet Merlin," presumably because he had taken in the state of the shaft around them.
"Ok, Hermione. I understand," Bill said. "We're going to put out the fire and clear the smoke first. Then Dad's going to help you out, alright?"
"Yes," she replied, and tried not to cough; any break in her concentration could send them to their deaths.
She forced herself not to look at Ron and Harry while she waited. The only thing that allowed her to function was the hope she held that they would be fine.
Water dripped into the car and the smoke vanished. When she looked up, she could see Bill hanging over the side of an open lift door, half a floor up.
"Ready?" he asked, "Trust us, it'll be fine." his eyes locked on hers and all she could do was nod.
She heard Arthur cast Protego, and felt the strain on her magic immediately drop, as it was no longer an effort. However, she didn't know if she could cancel one spell and keep hold of the other.
"Just concentrate, Hermione. You can do it." Bill said assuredly
She shut her eyes and allowed the protego to slip away, while putting all her magic into holding the car still. There was a small shudder, but she quickly regained control.
"Good job, I'm coming down," Bill said, and adjusted his grip on the side before he lowered his legs down into their destroyed car. When his full weight was on the floor, they dipped precariously for a second before she could get better control.
Sweat was running into her eyes, but she dared not move to wipe it away. "Get them out," she said slowly and carefully.
Bill had already begun to shift debris off his brother and Harry. "How did you manage this?" he asked.
"I have no idea," she answered honestly, and gripped her wand tighter. Although she was no longer controlling two spells at once she was still weak.
"Dad!" Bill called, and Arthur's head appeared in the open door. "Are there Healers?"
"On their way, son," he answered. "Are they alright?"
Bill didn't respond and she felt a shot of fear go straight through her.
"You've got this, Hermione. We'll get them out," Bill assured her, but she didn't waste energy with a response.
"Dad, I'm going to levitate them up to you. Guide them through the door."
Ron went first, and she couldn't help but get a look at the bloody wound on the back of his head. She trembled as his father grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into the hallway and then out of her sight.
Harry was next and she almost shut her eyes, but when it came time she found she couldn't. His robes were dusty gray and there were multiple cuts on his face from the flying mirror glass. Bill floated him face up and she couldn't get a good enough look to see where his injury was.
When Harry was through as well, Bill removed the beam from her legs and she bit her lip so hard it bled to keep from crying out. "Now it's your turn," he said, and she shook her head fiercely.
"What do you mean, no? Let's go. I'm not leaving you here," he said, incredulous.
"You need to go first," she managed to get out.
"No way!" he shouted. "I didn't leave you in Diagon Alley and I'm not leaving you now!"
"Bill, I don't know how much longer I can hold this. You need to get out of this car. Now. As soon as you're clear, I'll drop the charm and apparate out," she explained, not sure if it would work or not.
He looked at her like she was crazy. "You can't apparate inside the Ministry, you know that!"
"Harry did it earlier. It's possible," she told him.
Bill did a double take at this information. "Even if that is true, you're drained from holding the spells. How do you know you'll even be able to apparate?"
She swallowed heavily before she answered. "I don't know. But it's the only way I know how. Now go," she ordered with as much force as she could muster. She was beginning to shake violently now, and the car sank a few more inches as more debris fell on top of them.
"Don't you dare die in here," he ground out and only hesitated for a second before he clambered onto the broken hand rail and pulled himself out of the shaft.
She thought there was a chance she could wait for him to take over the spell, but she knew she didn't have any more time.
As soon as she saw his feet disappear, she dropped her wand, and concentrated as hard as she could. A silent plea that she manage to apparate ten feet was her last thought as the bottom dropped out from under her.