“These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shirk from the service of their country; but he that stands it now, deservers the love and thanks of man and woman.”
Thomas Paine
Three days of this. Three days of rushing around Britain and Ireland trying to pick up the immediate families of every serving D.A. member who joined at the castle, and every rejected member. With all the Death Eater attacks during that time, trying to get at the families, the doctors had their hands full keeping everyone ambulatory. No one had begun to suffer shell-shock yet, but as Major Doctor Thomas told him, as she took on the role of Chief Medical Officer, it would happen.
On June 30th, 1997, the day they evacuated Alicia Spinnet and her family were evacuated, Hermione Granger was in her tent sleeping when she was woken by a particularly familiar voice. She looked into the face of a very familiar Indian woman, her rank tabs glowing in the soft moonlight. Lieutenant Commander Padma Patil looked down on her. The woman looked sad, her eyes glistening as though she had been crying right before she came in here.
I’m not surprised, Hermione thought. Her relationship with Michael seems to be on the rocks. Michael and Padma had seemed to stop talking to each other recently, signaling the possibility that their relationship was coming to an end. She felt sorry for her, but she hoped that wasn’t why she was here.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Sir,” Padma said. “You asked me to alert you when a message from a certain address arrived.”
This did interest her.
Hermione bolted upright in her bed when she heard this, thinking hurriedly, Could it be? Could I finally have gotten some decent intel? Her interrogations of Malfoy very little intel on any potential sites where Ginny and other prisoners being heldThis may be the break the D.A. needed. However, Hermione thought. There was only one way to find out.
“When did this message arrive?” Hermione asked as she got out of bed and threw on her red Gryffindor bathrobe.
“One minute ago, Sir,” Commander Patil responded.
“Then let’s go,” Hermione said, and they walked quickly into the warm night, with the moon high in the sky and not a cloud to envelope the stars. They walked up to a large makeshift dome-shaped wooden structure with one big hole in the side that served as a temporary Owlery. The doors were guarded by two members of one squad who stiffened their backs and saluted when they walked over, with one of the guards opening the door into a circular room ringed with ledges that would normally contain owls if they weren’t all out hunting. The floor was covered in hay an owl pellets, just like at Hogwarts. The only owl there was a black owl with a parchment tied to the leg. Hermione ripped it off, opened it and read. What she read shocked her. Eyes widening, she read it again and again to convince herself it was true.
“I need to wake Harry and the others,” Hermione said, pulling her comm.-mirror out of her bathrobe.
“Sir,” Padma said, genuinely shocked. “I don’t think they’ll like-.” but Hermione interrupted.
“I’m not interested in what you think right now, Commander,” Hermione said curtly. “Go back to bed; you’ll be woken as soon as we need you, dismissed!”
“Yes, Sir!” Padma said, running out of the door and heading back to her tent, as Hermione got on her comm.-mirror and contacted Harry and the others.
They met once again, in the attic conference room, taking their usual places at the meeting table, candles out again as it was the wee hours of the morning. Everyone was dressed in uniform, and ready for business. As soon as he sat down, Harry blurted out, “Why in the hell did you wake us at this hour, Hermione?”
“It’s about Ginny,” Hermione said, her face flush with excitement seen even in the light of the candles. “I think we may finally be close to locating her.”
A deathly silence flew over the room, everyone just staring at each other and at Harry, as she sat back in his chair, eyes wide and his mouth opening and closing reflexively, with Ron looking anxious right beside him. One look at him told them, he wasn’t a soldier at this point; just a boy who’s only wish, who’s only thought in the past two weeks was of reuniting with the love of his life. Finally he regained his composure and said, “What do you have?”
“All right,” Hermione said. “Remember, after Marseilles, when I got that message from Viktor Krum?”
“Yes,” Ron said, angrily. “You never told us what that was about?”
“Well,” Hermione said. “I’m going to explain that now. Two years ago, at the end of term, Viktor Krum told me he was going to try and infiltrate a Death Eater cell in Bulgaria. He also asked me to take whatever data I had and give it to the Ministry and the ICW. He also told me to tell no one else until after he got into a cell.”
The effects of this proclamation were very immediate and direct. Shocked and confused voices burst through the room. Harry just stood there, with this look of confusion on his face. Did she have to keep this from us? Harry thought.
“And it took him this long to infiltrate a cell?” Neville said.
“That’s surprising,” Luna said. “Eastern Europe is a hotbed for Death Eater activity, especially the former Yugoslavia. Voldemort founded cells there almost as soon as he returned to power. He loved doing that during the last war; taking advantage of precarious situations among Muggles as an excuse to increase the body count”
“Yes, that is surprising,” Hermione thought. “Maybe some of them got caught in the crossfire between NATO peacekeepers and the various factions, but that’s beside the point.” Pulling a folded letter out of her uniform pocket she opened it and read, “Hermione, I have important information on your friend, I know where she is, but the Death Eaters are on to me. They’ve broken down the door and are searching the place. They’ll find me in a minute or two. Thank God my wife and daughter are not here.” Ron and everyone else muttered but Harry had locked onto one subject. He knows where Ginny is, Harry thought, excitement flooding his brain. He knows where Ginny is. Oh, I have to tell the Weasley parents.
However, Ron had to get his two Knuts in.
“Viktor’s married? With a kid?” Ron asked confused.
“Yes,” Hermione said. “He met his wife about a couple months after he left Britain. Her name’s Aysel and she’s a Wizarding member of Bulgaria’s Turkish minority. Their daughter’s name is Canan, which means “beloved” in Turkish.
Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, “Then we have no choice,” Harry said. “We must go to Viktor Krum’s aid.”
“Yes,” Hermione said. “But if we send troops en masse, as you’re all probably thinking, they’ll know we’re looking for him and kill him. No, the best we can do is to send a small force, no more than twenty people. Once there we’ll conduct a clandestine investigation, and once we’ve located him we’ll go in.”
“Excuse me, we,” Ron said, surprised.
“I’m leading this mission myself.” Hermione said. “He’s my responsibility, he did this to protect me, and I will not abandon him.”
“But, Hermione!” Ron said desperately, trying to keep her in the UK. “You need more men, what if he’s too heavily guarded to reach with twenty people.”
“Twenty people,” Hermione said firmly. “From my unit; we’ll get him out, I promise. And we’ll come back.”
This mission, Harry thought, suddenly worried about her old friend. Could get Hermione killed. Yet knowing Hermione, she won’t rest until Viktor’s out of there free.
Sighing, Harry said. “Hermione take charge of this mission, I’m going to talk to the Weasleys. You’re dismissed.” As the meeting broke up, Ron said.
“Sir,” Ron said. “It’s 0300 hours they’re probably asleep.”
“Somehow,” Harry said, sighing. “I doubt it.” As he walked down the attic stairwell, he noticed the lights were on on the first floor, a sure sign that there pounding up the stairs to the attic to get to the briefing room had woken Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and they were in the kitchen.
Sure enough, he found them in the kitchen to find Arthur and Molly Weasley in the kitchen going over fond memories of Ginny over tea, as they had gone many a morning since the attack.
“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” Harry said. “We need to talk.”
“Is this about whatever got you thumping about in the middle of the night?” Molly asked.
“It’s about Ginny,” Harry said, excitedly. “I think we may be close to locating her.” He then proceeded to tell them everything about Viktor Krum’s actions, his disappearance, and Hermione’s mission to Bulgaria.
“I understand,” Arthur said, than with a questioning look on his face, he asked, “But what are your intentions regarding Ginny?”
“What do you mean?” Harry said, his voice breaking a bit, though he knew the question he was asking.
“Do you intend to take her back?” Molly said matter-of-factly translating for him.
“I hope she’ll take me back,” Harry said. “I love her very much.” At this point, he had sat down at the table, with them and started to tear up a bit, “But does she love me? I thought she loved me, but she told me she liked me only.” Then, without thinking about it, he said, “God, I miss her.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Molly said fiercely, causing Harry too briefly to tense up, thinking she was talking about his missing her. “I saw the way she looked at you the past few weeks. She loves you.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, fiercely. “I need to hear that from Ginny herself.” And with that he left them without another word.
After breakfast at 0830, Hermione presented her plan to Harry and the others. She was going to take her officers and two squads with her. They were going to jump over Sofia’s central business district low enough that they were under Bulgarian military and civilian radar nets. They would then travel under normal propulsion to Viktor’s home near Plovdiv. Once their, they would sweep it for anything useful, see to the safety of Viktor’s wife and daughter, and use it as a base. They were going to bring camouflage netting and plenty of civilian clothes, Muggle and Wizard, as this mission would require stealth and secrecy.
“Well,” Harry told her, “Good hunting.”
“Don’t worry,” Hermione said. “It will be.”
As she walked past Ginny’s picture on the way to the airfield, she rubbed it, saying to herself, don’t worry my friend, I’ll find you. She walked to the airfield to find Padma and Michael standing at ease, hands behind their backs, and pointedly ignoring each other.
“Report,” Hermione said curtly.
“Yes, Sir,” Padma said. “Our troops are aboard Sir, just give the world and we’ll leave.”
“Very well,” Hermione said, and they followed her aboard the lead transport, which piloted by a Japanese –American woman named Lieutenant Shizuku Kutsakabe and an African-American woman named Lieutenant Lisa Wallace.
“Lieutenant,” Hermione said, “Lift off and prepare for departure.”
“Yes, Commander,” the young black-haired woman said, lifting off and signaling the other ship to follow suit.
Shizuku turned and said, “We’re all in the air, we’re ready to jump on your orders, sir.”
“Go,” Hermione said.
“Yes, sir,” Kutsakabe said. “Fingering her controls she said, “We jump in five… four…three…two… one.” They heard a Portkey hit the hull, there was a flash of green light and in a moment they were on their way to Sofia, Bulgaria
A few hours later, they arrived over Sofia’s central buissness district. The Invisibility Boosters were active and they had come in under the military and civilian radar nets. Once they had confirmed that the other ship was with them, they entered a new set of coordinates entered and promptly jumped until they were over Plovdiv’s CBD, then because they were so close, they moved under normal propulsion to Viktor’s house.
“This stinks of a trap,” Padma said darkly. Hermione had to agree. They didn’t have all the facts so this being a trap was a distinct possibility. Unfortunately, it’s hard to tell if it’s a trap until after it’s been sprung, Hermione thought.
“I know but we can’t take the chance that it isn’t, can we, Sir?” Michael interjected giving Padma a death glare.
Oh, yeah, Hermione thought. They’re over.
“He’s right, Commander,” Hermione said, “We can’t.”
“I suppose you’re right, Sir.” Padma said, conceding the point.
“Suppose it is a trap?” Lieutenant Jonathan Wilcox, the brother of one of Harry’s pilots said, in his Australian accent.
“End of game,” Michael said, seriously; “For us, anyway.”
“Yes,” Hermione said. “End of game.”
“Sir,” Lieutenant Kutsakabe said in her Southern drawl. “We’ve arrived.” Hermione looked to see an old, stone mansion, with green wooden slats as a roof, with marshland on the north side of the property.
“Land on the edge of the marshland there,” Hermione said.
The moment they landed, Hermione and her men swung into action, advancing slowly on the back of the house, eyes and ears alert to any sign of danger and advanced on the house. Hermione broke her small unit into four groups. Hermione was to move in from the front of the house, Padma’s was to take the back, and Michael and John were to break the windows and come in on either side. As they advanced, Hermione noticed something odd, the house was totally undamaged. There were no holes in the walls, the windows were unbroken, and the doors were still on the hinges. Death Eater attacks tend to take out the target, the building he or she was in, and, depending on the size and strength of the attack, the surrounding countryside, Yet here it was, undamaged, not so much as a burn mark anywhere on it.
This doesn’t smell right, Hermione thought suspiciously. Firming up her resolve, she and the squad she had escorting her advanced. Hermione and the sergeant whose squad she’d co-opted moved to either side as another soldier smashed the door down with a Reductor curse. The door splintered and fell inward, allowing the fire team to rush in, Hermione right behind them. She heard wood and glass shattering, and knew the others were in.
The room surprisingly, was cleaned up, sofas and chairs were stood up against the wall. A cedar coffee table was undamaged in the middle of the table, everything was fine. She looked up the stairs, which were dark, and secluded, all the doors upstairs closed, the perfect place for the enemy to hide.
“It’s a trap!” Hermione said. And that’s when a red Stun blast flew down the stairs at her, colliding harmlessly with her Shield Cloak. Hermione and everyone else reacted instinctively, sending Reductor curses up the stairs at their assailant. Padma burst into the room, her and her team joining Hermione, Michael, and John in firing up the stairs. Their adversary was good, jumping out long enough to fire a Stun spell before getting back behind cover, cover which was rapidly being disintegrated by Reductor curses. Abruptly, over the sounds of energy discharges and splintering wood, the sounds of a crying baby could be heard. Almost at once the pieces of this mystery fell into place, and Hermione knew she had to restrain her troops before they made a fatal mistake.
“Cease fire, damn it!” Hermione yelled. “Cease fire!” As a testament to her troops’ training, they ceased firing and drew into a defensive formation.
“It’s okay,” Hermione called up to the stairs. “We’re with the D.A. we’re to help! My name is Hermione Granger and we’re here to help rescue your husband!”
“Hermione Granger?” A young woman who, though she had a distinct Bulgarian accent, Hermione decided spoke English better than her husband. “My husband’s ex-girlfriend and pen pal?”
“That’s right,” Hermione said.
A moment later, she said, “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
“If we were Death Eaters,” Hermione said. “Would I have ordered my men to cease firing?”
“Vell, there’s that,” their assailant said. “I’ll be down in a minute,” A few minutes later, a beautiful brown-skinned woman with black hair, dark eyes, and a beautiful floral print blouse and black skirt, carrying a crying baby.
“My name is Aysel Krum,” she said, holding out her hand for Hermione to shake.
“Hermione Granger,” Hermione said, taking the proffered hand.
“I’m sorry about your house, Mrs. Krum,” Hermione said. “We were just defending ourselves.”
“Call me Aysel,” Viktor’s wife responded. “Vould it kill you to fix it, though?” She said as she was calming her baby.
“All right,” Hermione said. She turned and shouted, “Fix everything people, and put everything back.”
As they got to work, using Repair charms to put everything back again Hermione sat Aysel down in one of the armchairs. However, when she did, Aysel threw her for a loop by saying, “Why did they do it, Ms. Granger? Why did they take my husband? Sure he was a sports star, but he didn’t do anything to anger them, did he?”
Oh, Lord, Hermione thought. Why didn’t he tell her?
“Aysel,” Hermione began, initiating a conversation she dreaded. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
And she told her everything about Viktor’s mission, the knowledge he held, everything. She also gave him the letters he sent her concerning the warand the mission. She also gave himn the letters he sent her. When she was done, Aysel got up, a sleeping Canan in her arms, and turned her back on her.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Hermione said. “You blame me for this. You feel that if I hadn’t had that romance with him, he’d still be here with you and your daughter.” Hermione got up and put her hands on Aysel’s shoulders. “Viktor loves you very much; he made that quite clear in his letters. And I promise you, on the memories of all those who died at Marseilles, I will reunite you.”
“Thanks,” Aysel said, turning around to face Hermione. “I just vish he hadn’t kept it from me.”
So do I, Hermione thought sadly. Aysel laid Canan down in a crib she kept downstairs and walked over to embrace Hermione.
“Thank you,” Aysel said as Hermione held her. “Thank you for caring so much.”
“I’m just doing my job,” Hermione said proudly. “And he’s my friend.”
And with any luck he’ll help us get Ginny out, Hermione thought.
No comments:
Post a Comment