Dramatis Personae

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Chapter 5

By Diocletian

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August 23, 2005:

Hermione woke early that morning, sprawled comfortably across Ron's warm chest. His steady breathing rocked her rhythmically up and down, and aside from a few cars going by outside, his light snores were the only thing she could hear in the quiet dawn air. She lifted herself slowly off of him and kissed him lightly on the lips as she got out of bed. He barely stirred.

Glancing around their room, Hermione cringed at the sight of their various items of clothing having been strewn haphazardly across the space. For pity's sake, Ron's boxers were hanging on the corner of the headboard! Clucking her tongue quietly to herself in a disapproving manner, Hermione scrambled around, picking up all of the things they had carelessly shed the previous night and dropped them into the hamper. She was determined to fully complete this task before she even thought about doing anything else.

In the end, it only took her a few minutes to find everything (though looking for Ron's tie had been a challenge) and then she allowed herself the luxury of proceeding to take a shower. Ron was still asleep by the time she finished and had come back in the bedroom to change for work. Shrugging on her robe and slipping on her shoes, Hermione glanced over at him from the corner of her eye, debating whether or not to wake him. He had to attend the World Summit today, but he wouldn't need to arrive for a couple of hours yet and he would get cranky if she woke him before he needed to be up.

After contemplating for another few moments, she decided that she'd make some coffee and if he wasn't awake by the time she was finished a cup or two, then she'd wake him up. He'd be less bear-like if she could get some caffeine into him soon enough after he woke up.

So, setting a pot on to brew, Hermione scurried back and forth around the kitchen making a small breakfast. She checked her briefcase three times to make sure that she had all of the documents she would need for today at the Summit and re-brushed her hair twice before the coffee was done. She poured a mug, filled it with the appropriate amounts of milk and sugar, drank it as slowly as she could, then went in to wake Ron.

He was resistant to her efforts for a while, but when she told him there was a spider crawling over his shoulder, he jolted upright. Hermione fought the urge to giggle over the phobia that he had never quite grown out of, and kissed him on the cheek instead. "Morning, Ronald dear," she said.

Ron gave her a dirty look when he realized he wasn't being ravaged by any great, filthy spiders. "Mornings are when I like you least, you know."

Hermione scoffed. "I find myself caring very little. Now get up. You have to get ready for work."

"Shit," Ron moaned. He pulled away from his fiancée and yanked the bedcovers up over his head. "Tell them I died last night," he mumbled through the blankets, "And so I am, tragically, unable to attend."

Hermione frowned and grabbed hold of the bottom edge of the blanket, pulling it off the bed as the redhead beneath it squawked unhappily. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, get your arse out of that bed! Is this the kind of example you are going to set for our child when they're born!?"

"Yes!" he cried indignantly, trying to snatch back his blanket.

Hermione sighed in anger and exasperation and tossed it into his face. "Fine! Go back to sleep! When you get fired, don't come whining to me." She turned and stomped out of the bedroom door. Ron groaned in exasperation and sat up.

"Fine!" he shouted. "I'm up! See? Me, here, awake?" His only answer was a vague clunking sound as Hermione grabbed her empty mug from the kitchen table and put it into the sink. "Oh, come on, Mione. I barely slept last night. Of course I'm going to be cranky!"

This time, the response was a slightly more civilized, though it was still obvious that she was ignoring his pleading. "Have a good day, Ron. I'll see you when you get there."

Ron heard her footsteps approaching the door and, before she could leave, he exclaimed, in the most pathetic voice he could manage: "I love you 'Mione!" Listening hopefully, he heard her sigh in defeat and gave a silent cheer.

"I love you too, Ron," she answered. Then she turned back around and left. Ron threw himself back down onto the bed.

He hadn't been lying when he'd said that he had barely slept that night. He had been too busy thinking about that Questor thing... well, he was busy thinking about it after Hermione had fallen asleep. Before that, he had obviously been distracted by something else entirely. But the thought troubled him, nonetheless.

Why would somebody have a tattoo representing a group of ancient Roman accusers and judges, he wondered. And a muggle, at that. Because Scott Spiegel was clearly a muggle, that much was obvious from the report he had been reading. Just as the Unspeakables had originally guessed, there wasn't a trace of magic in him, despite what some of the Aurors had thought. But what Darcie had said was that this Questor mark thing represented some king of a society. One that her father seemed to have been a part of. Her pureblooded father.

It made very little sense to Ron. Purebloods who thought themselves special enough to belong to secret societies in the wizarding world were usually the same kind who picketed the Magical Creatures division of the Ministry, saying that muggles should be formerly classified as "Beasts". They weren't the kind of people who were inclined to join anything that a muggle was a part of unless it was, say, a sacrificial killing. So what the hell was the deal with Spiegel and this Questor Society?

Ron had puzzled over it for a long time the previous night. He was still exhausted. So, even though the shrill anger in his fiancée's voice as she told him to get up continued to ring in his ears, he laid back down in bed. If he could get just a few more minutes of shut-eye squeezed in before he had to leave for work then he would feel much better prepared to face the day. Just a half an hour or so would suffice, he told himself as he rolled over, pulling the reclaimed blanket with him.

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Colin and Ginny rolled their eyes at each other as the guard at the security point they were trying to pass through checked their schedules for the third time. He was obviously quite new at this because, really, he had no idea what he was doing. They had been waiting at security for more than ten minutes now and were starting to hold up traffic. People behind them were muttering to themselves, checking their watches, or going to different security points to get in. Ginny didn't blame them. It was getting to be very frustrating.

She and Colin weren't even there on official business, really. They were there to accompany the Head of the Department of Mysteries, Cliff Ruttledge, into a few of his meetings and be there when he needed to refer to people who knew something about the actual work done by the Department. So, they were basically progress reports that spoke. And nodded. Fun, fun.

At long last the two of them made it through the security point and were allowed to go on their way to find Ruttledge, who was supposedly in Conference Room F-12. They patiently worked their way through the crowds and up the stairs, walking down different hallways and asking for directions. It took them a while, but they did eventually make it to F-12, flashing security passes to the guard at the door as they entered. They quietly took their seats, which were located to the left of Ruttledge, who was reviewing some of his papers on the French Department of Mysteries and their various regulations and requirements.

Ginny took a few moments before the meeting officially came to order to look around the room at the rest of their fellow occupants. Aside from Colin, Ruttledge and herself, the others present included Joel Shaw, the Senior Deputy Head of the DM; Sheldon Welling, the JD Head; a few lab workers whose names Ginny couldn't think of at the moment; Hank Richards, the DMLE Head; Darcie Bethel, his Senior Deputy; and a couple of Aurors she recognized vaguely. Not to mention the fact that the French, Dutch and Spanish equivalents to each were also present. It was a debate over European laws and restrictions regarding Departments of Mysteries, so the representatives for both the Departments of Mysteries and Magical Law Enforcement were supposed to be there. Ginny spent another few moments absently spinning her security pass, which hung loosely around her neck, between her fingers before she noticed the fact that the DMLE reps were one short.

She glanced over at Colin. He gave her a confused look and mouthed, 'Where the hell is Ron?' Ginny could only shrug before the ICW delegate running the meeting called it to order. She spared a quick look over at Hank Richards, Ron's boss and suspected sworn enemy. He was looking more than slightly pissed and she looked away, hoping to God that he didn't know that she was related to Ron in any way, shape or form.

This wasn't like Ron at all, she thought as the argument a.k.a. debate commenced. He's never late for work. That was, after all, how he'd managed to become the youngest Junior Deputy Head of Department currently working for the Ministry. By being so bull-headed and stubborn in respect to his brothers' lazy perceptions of him that he forced himself daily to work hard and be prompt for everything. So what was going on today?

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"Ron!?" A voice echoed through the front hall of Ron and Hermione's house, jerking Ron from his peaceful slumber. "Mother of all that is good and holy, mate, are you still here?! Get your arse out of bed, you're already late!"

Ron moaned, the words being yelled at him through the bedroom door not yet sinking in to a level that would transfer them to his brain. He rolled over unhappily and worked his eyes slowly open so he could look at the clock. 10:58 AM. He realized gradually that there was something wrong with that number today. It meant that 10:30 AM had already gone by. Wasn't there something important going on this morning at 10:30?

"Oh shit."

He leapt out of bed, yanking on a pair of boxers from his open wardrobe and running out to the corridor to tell whoever had come and woken him to bugger off until he came home from work that afternoon. Though THIS afternoon, he'd probably be coming home from what USED to be work, reading through the Daily Prophet classifieds as he came through the door because Richards was going to fire him.

There, standing in the hallway as Ron raced to the bathroom where the freshly cleaned clothes were usually piled, and not very surprisingly, was Harry Potter, looking much too bright and much too chipper for someone who had just completely ruined his best friend's day. Ron didn't feel that it was normal for someone to want to punch their best mate in the nose first thing in the morning, but really, Harry deserved it beyond any doubt.

"You git!" he shouted as he tried to pull on some pants he'd found folded up in the bathroom. "Why didn't you come wake me up sooner?"

Harry looked thunderstruck as he placed his Styrofoam coffee cup and newspaper on the kitchen table and went to help Ron pick out a matching shirt and tie. "If I had known you were still here instead of having gone to work an hour ago, I would have!" he answered.

Ron huffed and quickly fastened his belt. He took the shirt Harry passed him and threw it on. Harry also gave Ron his half-full cup of coffee to drink while he went to find him a work robe. "What ARE you doing here, anyway?" Ron asked as he downed the drink, when he finally realized that Harry didn't live there after all and therefore had no reason to be there.

Harry returned with both a robe and a tie, which he tossed to his friend who promptly started putting them on. "I came to get my book," he replied. "Hermione asked if she could borrow it while I was in Japan. But now I'm back and I don't have to go back to work for another week, so I want to read it again. Hermione said she was done and that she would leave it in the living room for me, so here I am. Then I found out that your door was still unlocked."

Ron had the decency to look sheepish as Harry continued. "You stupid ponce. What possessed you to keep sleeping? I know Hermione; she must have woken you up. Richards already hates you, Ron, why are you handing him ammunition?"

Having finished with his tie, Ron pulled on his robes, hastily brushed his hair, decided that a shave could wait until later, and hurriedly went to pull on his shoes. "Because I'm a stupid ponce," he answered dully.

Harry shook his head in exasperation. "Ron, Hank is going to murder you for this, you know that, right?" Ron ducked slightly to take a final look at himself in the mirror.

"Yeah, I know that. Shit. I mean, really, *shit*. Why did this have to happen TODAY?" All Harry could do in response was shrug. Ron sighed and grabbed his briefcase. "So, how do I look? Ready to be presented to foreign diplomats as Britain's poster boy for stupid ponces?"

"You look like you think you're about to be fired."

"That's close enough." Ron turned and stepped out the back door. "Lock up behind you when you leave, would you, Harry?"

Harry waved a hand dismissively. "Sure, of course." Ron sent him one last parting look of gratitude as he disappeared out the door to go outside where he could safely apparate to the Ministry where he could catch an authorized floo to the Summit. "And I do honestly hope you don't get sacked!" Harry called after him.

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The first meeting was adjourned. Ginny still couldn't believe that Ron hadn't shown up. He didn't even come in late. He just hadn't come. He's probably still stuck in security, Ginny decided at last. That was a reasonably believable explanation.

Colin and Ginny were quietly discussing the things they had gone over in the debate and trying to keep up with Ruttledge in the hubbub of the Summit crowd while they made their way towards Conference Room I-20. Next, they were supposed to start talking about the boundaries between the work of the Department of Mysteries and the work of the Committee on Experimental Charms with some high-ranking Italians. Ginny hated talking about boundaries on the DM's work. It always turned into a giant bitch-fest about how the DM never told anybody anything. Well, boo hoo. If you can't handle it, you should have tried working for the DM in the first place so you would already know what they were working on.

Ruttledge had already disappeared ahead of them before they were even close to I-20. Ginny and Colin were still trying to figure out which way they were supposed to go next when a shrill voice suddenly sounded out not too far behind them.

"Miss Weasley! Mr. Creevey! Miss Weasley, I need to speak with you! It's urgent!"

Ginny and Colin turned to face whoever it was shouting at them through the crowd. The sight of Archie Croaker's lab assistant, Nadia Pratchett, startled Ginny. Ginny had known Nadia for years and she was very shy. There was very little that could force her to actually shout, especially in front of a huge crowd of people like this, so whatever she wanted Ginny and Colin for, it must be very serious indeed. Ginny grabbed hold of Colin's sleeve and dragged him through the waves of people towards Nadia.

"Miss Weasley--!"

"We're right here, Nadia," Ginny interrupted as she managed to get through. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you, Ma'am. It's--We need to get somewhere where I can actually hear myself think, first. But I assure you, this needs your immediate attention!" Ginny could hear that Nadia's voice, not used to talking so much, so loudly, was beginning to crack. She relented and motioned that the young woman should follow as Ginny and Colin lead the way to a nearby bathroom.

As they went through the door of the nearest women's toilet, Colin slightly reluctant as an older blonde gave him a dirty look when she stepped out, Ginny shut the door firmly behind them. She turned back to the shy assistant. "So, what is it, Nadia? What's wrong?"

Ginny hadn't noticed before, but Nadia was panting terribly, as though she had run a long distance without a break. "It's about those chemicals, Ginny," she managed after a moment. "The ones you brought us, that Archibald was analyzing yesterday. We've been trying to figure out what someone would want with them. So this morning, Archie cross-referenced the chemicals in a muggle database to see what he might come up with." Nadia panted again and rubbed her sweaty forehead. "The response came up saying that the list was made up of constituents for trinitrotoluene and other similar mixtures."

Ginny blinked, confused. "Tri-ni-wha?"

Colin's brow, however, was furrowed in thought as though he was trying to remember something he had heard a long time ago. "Trinitrotoluene," he said quietly to himself. "Tri...Nitro... Wait a minute, isn't that the chemical name for TNT?" Nadia nodded frantically, while Ginny got even more confused.

"TNT? What the hell is TNT?"

"It's an explosive, Gin," Colin answered. "It's a very stable explosive that can easily be stored over long periods of time. An explosive that we have just found in the hands of Theodore Nott, a man with a lot of connections to a group of known terrorists and rebels of our government. A man with a lot of evil friends who have also been allegedly trading in illegal muggle goods and who, by the way, aren't in jail."

"But what would terrorists want with..." Ginny started, but it didn't take long for the obvious answer to dawn on her. She froze and then pushed open the door to the loo to look out at the crowds of people pushing their way politely past each other in the corridor outside. There were hundreds, if not thousands of these people currently in the building, all trusting that their safety had been properly cared for by people like Ginny She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall at her back. "Oh, God. They're going to try and blow up the Summit building."

"We need to tell somebody," Colin said firmly. "Now. Where's the nearest security point?"

"Down four flights," Nadia replied instantly, "and a few hundred meters west."

"Well, what are we waiting for?!" Colin demanded, shoving open the door. "Come on! If these people find out that we know about it, they'll blow this whole place up before anyone has a chance to get out!"

Ginny and Nadia needed no further prompting. They hurried out after him and raced down the nearest set of stairs. Ginny quickly regretted the fact that she had chosen to wear heels that morning. She paused on the stairs and kicked her shoes off, leaving them where they lay as she continued running after Colin and Nadia.

The Ministry had, of course, considered the possibility of a bomb scare at the Summit. They had magical explosive detectors located throughout the building and the security was in place to stop potential terrorists from getting in. But if the bomber was someone who already had clearance to get in and they were using muggle chemicals as explosives, then they would not have set off any alarms, because there was no magic being used in the bomb. It would sadly be only too easy, Ginny realized furiously. They should have had dogs posted, doing rounds on a regular basis to try and sniff out anything suspicious. Something like that. SOMEBODY should have thought of that!

And today would also be the prime day to detonate any bombs that might be inside the building, too. Ginny felt like ripping her hair out. The British Minister for Magic, Wagman Shoal, was due to be present that afternoon, along with most of the local Heads, Deputies and JDs of Department, because he was supposed to make a speech about international friendship and cooperation for all of the foreign representatives who had come. That basically meant that everybody who meant anything at the Ministry was supposed to be there. And some unknown group of maniacs was trying to kill them all.

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