Hex

Author's Notes: This is a concept I've had rattling around for a while. The only way I can describe it is as a TV series - twenty-two episodes following several season arcs. That means that each episode (three chapters) is a whole story in its own right, building up to tell a larger, longer story. Thanks to my marvellous PI Beta Dark Hamadryad, who successfully avoided all the wells, pits, and lion dens I could imagine to bring this fic to you. Thanks to my wonderful reviewers.

***

Harry's house was Muggle in appearance. Inside, it didn't look too out of place either- Harry knew how Muggle things worked and so had a real television and stereo, which made his dad's visits to Harry's place even more common than to his own

It was in the outskirts of London- a simple terraced house in a nice but not perfect area. His front garden was a mess of weeds, and his gate was unpainted, but whenever anyone pointed it out, he grinned as though having a messy front garden was some sort of treat.

The lights were on in the house despite the daylight.

He tapped the doorbell with his wand while peering through the small window next to the door. Recognising the magical presence, the Muggle charms faded. The picture on the glass changed to reveal warm lamplight and the framed images were free to move once more.

"Harry mate? Are you in there?" Ron called through the letterbox.

There was no answer. Luna gave him a worried glance, but put her hand on his arm before his could use his wand to unlock the door. She simply lifted her bare arms up to her throat and removed a chain. A key dangled in front of him.

He chose not to say anything and let her open the door.

Harry had given her a key? That wasn't something you did for just anyone. How much had Luna meant to him that he had never even mentioned her to Ron? What had been so dark in his life that he turned up at Luna's house in the night, but acted as though everything was fine when he was hanging out with Ron?

Hedwig and Harry's second owl, Edwina, dozed on their perch high above the stairs. Hedwig woke, gave them a bleary 'where have you been?' hoot and ruffled her feathers.

They moved around downstairs, finding the lights on in the sitting room. The television was on too, but no sound emanated from it as a suited man in it spoke seriously into the room.

Luna left to go look upstairs- somewhere she was no doubt familiar with, thought Ron moodily- while he went into the kitchen, nearly tripping over Harry's trainers. The lamps were on in there too, and a full mug of cold tea was sitting on the counter.

He waited for Luna to come back down and thought, not for the first time, how much he wished Hermione was here.

He remembered finding the house he lived in, how he'd decorated it and brought ornaments and bookshelves so that maybe they might live in it together one day. Then she'd received some sort of job offer and simply disappeared. He'd never even gotten to give her one measly kiss.

She sent them one letter a month and he relied on writing answering letters back in which he poured his heart out, and to which she never replied.

Luna came back in to the room, informing him that Harry's robes were folded on his bed as though he were about to get dressed when he disappeared.

"But nobody seems to have done any spells to force their way in," she said thoughtfully. She had bent down to check the back door.

Ron had been almost longing to find Harry simply being menaced by the Monster Book of Monsters and be standing on a chair awaiting rescue. Something simple and easy. Now they had to track down Prentice and maybe they'd find out that Prentice hadn't messed about and had simply dealt with Harry straight away...

He fought back nausea. To distract himself he snapped at Luna; "I'm the Hit-Wizard here. I'll say who has or hasn't done spells."

He gave the door a thorough check. "No. They haven't."

They made another half-hearted attempt to search the place. The garden was frosty and empty, the attic was unused, and the spare bedroom was dusty. Curiously, the cupboard under the stairs was locked. When it was opened, it proved to hold no more than a few Muggle items that Harry must have once owned.

He looked to Luna for explanation of that, but she looked as non-plussed as him.

A letter Luna found on the mantle-piece proved of more interest:

Dear Mr. Potter,

This letter is to inform you that the Ministry of Magic is planning to reopen Azkaban Prison after rebuilding and alterations are made. As such we wish to offer you the role of Prison Warden to ensure that prisoners are safely locked away and reasonably looked after. You will have full control of the staff, the layout of the prison, and its systems and controls, subject to confirmation by the Ministry.

Please reply to this letter at your convenience,

Doris Aiken

[Prisoner Relocation Team]

Ron had read and re-read the letter. He'd known that Harry was unhappy with his life. They'd wanted to give up hero-ing and excitement after school.

But Ron had always thought that they were in it together, doing good even if their lives weren't joyous.

Now it turned out Harry had been offered the sort of job he would have loved - a chance to make Azkaban a better place. He'd been hiding Luna from Ron. How long would it have been before Ron was relying on Harry's one letter a month too?

Luna had an explanation for this, however. "This is clearly the trap the Mortons used to draw him in! Harry went to them offering to take the job, and they kidnapped him," she said breathlessly.

Ron wished this was true, but scoffed outwardly.

"Well, it doesn't seem to have anything to do with this Lester Prentice person, does it?" Luna looked as hot-headed as she ever managed to be when someone dismissed her theories.

He scowled. "He was hardly going to leave a little "I did it!" note and a chocolate on Harry's pillow, was he?"

He stalked out to the garden again. A leathery gnome sprinted across the dry mud. Ron snatched it and flung it over the fence.

There was a shout of anger and one of Harry's Muggle neighbours shook a fist and held up a cracked pottery gnome angrily.

"Probably an Urban Gnome," said Luna calmly as she peeked around the kitchen door. "They like to turn into those pottery men whenever Muggles spot them."

Ron didn't care whether this was true or not. He simply stomped back inside.

They moved through the house tidying up. Luna switched off the television and rinsed out the mug, while Ron turned off the lights and sent Hedwig and Edwina to his parents' house until Harry could be located.

When the house was locked up again they stood on the step outside for a moment. Ron felt Luna breathe out with a whoosh.

"The Morton's are throwing a ball tonight," she said finally. "I'm planning to use the distraction to look around the research chamber. You should come too."

Ron gave her an impatient look. "I have other things to do that improve my social life!"

"You promised to help me," said Luna simply. She blinked as she said it.

Ron sunk into a sitting position on the step and rubbed his aching eyes. "Only if turned out you were right."

Luna sat down next to him too. She looked very frail in the cold sunshine. "Well, you've not got any proof that I'm wrong." Her eyes were searching his face again. "I believe Harry was taken by these people."

The last thing Ron wanted to do was go to another party. He wanted to go home and go over the information on Lester Prentice. Or at least go home and get drunk on the dregs of champagne left from the night before.

"I'll still help you track down Lester Prentice if you like," said Luna generously. "Do you have any idea where he is?"

Ron stumbled at the change of track and snorted. "Anywhere he can show off. He likes money, finery, and all the nice things he can kill for."

Luna smiled and nudged him with her elbow. "Then doesn't a Masquerade Ball sound like just his sort of thing?"

***

Luna had offered to lend Ron a mask since he didn't have anything suitable (unless you counted his vampire bat Halloween one, which he didn't). She had presented him a hideous lime green one with silver teardrops.

"I thought you'd like it," she said happily as he took is speechlessly.

He had to admit he much preferred his to the one she had picked for herself. She may have been on a secret mission, but she had not dressed for stealth. She was wearing a huge skirted shiny orange monstrosity with a shocking pink mask and a large turquoise feather stuck in her hair. No wonder Harry kept his secret about her quiet, he thought snidely.

They arrived at the Morton Towers' Apparition Zone and joined a stream of couples walking up to the main house.

The air was bitter, and Ron was sure he had most of the gravel path in his shoes. It was hardly a dream start to the night, and it didn't help that Luna was chattering away next to him as though they were best friends.

He focused on the faint glow of lights ahead, but it was impossible to drone out Luna's narration. There was a lake to their left and a forest to their right. They had just passed the track which led to the remains of Oak Morton. He didn't want to know these things. He wanted to find Prentice, find Harry, and go home.

They were both panting and out of breath by the time they reached the top of the hill and Ron saw the house for the first time.

His first thought was that it was Hogwarts. There were turrets, towers, and big arched doors, all similar in style to the school. In other places, the castle looked churchlike, and in others, the dark stone and brickwork reminded him of churches and houses and shops, all built into one place. It sat on the rocky hills rolling out around them, and as they moved onto the gravel path towards the giant front door Ron saw the sweeping, graceful lake Luna had been talking about.

"This is Morton Towers?" he breathed.

"Yes," said Luna with a patient look. "I know it rather well now. After we've had a chance to look around the research room, I'd like to walk into the remains of the town and have a look around there. It'll be quite deserted."

Ron sighed and remembered why he was here. He would have to try and prevent Luna from getting into too much trouble as well. "If there is a big conspiracy don't you think some people are going to be around to stop you doing all this?"

"I never said it was going to be easy," said Luna with an infuriating smile.

Ron tried to pull himself together and started thinking of his own plans. "What we have to do first is look around the ballroom. I'm going to rip every mask off every party-goer if I have to."

Luna looked a little put-out at this, but shrugged. "Well, let's not be too long."

The steps were lit by giant lanterns, and they slipped past the slow moving couples in front into the giant entrance room. The floor and walls were made from giant slabs of stone which arched upwards towards an intricately painted ceiling, covered in artistically naked women, who waved coquettishly at the guests looking upwards. Ron felt his ears redden and one of them pointed and giggled.

There was a sudden groan and Ron jumped. The ceiling seemed to be shaking. The nude- or rather, artistic - women above them sighed and gripped on to the few stable looking things around them. It went on for a few seconds and then the groan faded.

"It does that every couple of hours," said Luna. "It's a fault in the design according to the staff. I suggested they sweep the place for Lesser Crested Jiggs, but they seemed quite determined that it was the building to blame."

For a moment she looked distant, but her dreamy smile returned quickly and she gestured towards the ballroom. Ron, not a champion Hit-Wizard for nothing, filed that question away for later use.

Ron followed her, amazed by the sheer amount of people. There were three hundred in the ballroom alone. All of them had masks and stood in tight groups, talking, or they danced in tighter circles in the space left.

Men and women in Honeydukes uniforms went around pouring glistening ladles of melted chocolate into metallic cups, while fine wine was poured into every unfilled glass.

He stopped paying attention to the finery fairly quickly and concentrated on business. He scanned the ballroom for any suspicious groups. Prentice wouldn't be hiding. He'd be showing off. He'd be joining conversations, telling jokes...

"-So, after a week the parrot finally says- 'Okay, I give up. What'd you do with the boat?'!"

Predictable bastard.

Luna went off to get them drinks in order to 'blend in' but Ron was barely paying her attention.

Prentice was surrounded by a small group, his arm was thrown around an uncomfortable looking girl, and he was roaring with laughter at his own joke. The braying laugh of the other man in the group was more of a problem. The man's red hair, tall frame, and the horn-rimmed glasses balanced over his mask gave it away instantly. The last thing Ron needed was Percy and Penelope getting in the way of his arrest.

Ron stuck his chest out and marched over with exaggerated confidence.

"Prentice."

Prentice turned, and Ron had to give him his due, he barely flinched before his 'best friend' persona returned.

"Ron Weasley! What a surprise. I'd introduce you, but you already know Percy and Penelope, and I'm sure you couldn't forget this lovely lady."

He used his body weight the turn to woman he was holding in Ron's direction. Her curls, pale face, and the brown eyes beyond the mask gave it away instantly.

Ron's stomach churned.

Hermione's voice seemed very small in the noisy room. "Ron? What are you doing here?"

Prentice pressed his temple to Hermione's, who was trying to squirm away. "I do hope you'll convince her to stay at the party - she seems determined to get back to her work!"

Penelope, always ready with a useless statement, patted Hermione's arm. "Oh, do stay Hermione."

"Let go of her, Prentice," said Ron warningly.

Percy's expression though, was hard. "Ron? What are you doing here?"

This was the last thing he needed. He had no choice but to be polite for the moment. "Hullo, Percy."

Percy waved his glass airily. "I heard mum and dad were throwing you a birthday party."

"I notice you didn't bother to come," said Ron coldly.

The glass was waved again. "Well, Penny and I had already planned to go to the theatre- got the tickets and everything. It seemed such a shame to pass up such a special night to come to your house and watch Auntie Nellie fall over during the conga. She does make such a fool of herself at times."

"Actually I think she's the life of the party," lied Ron.

Percy chortled patronisingly. "Really Ron, there's no need to be ridiculous. I sent you a present, didn't I?"

Ron's eyes flickered to Prentice in case he made a run for it, but forced himself to carry on the conversation. "Yes. A bow tie, wasn't it?"

Percy drew himself up. "Not just any bow tie; it's a very fine, silk bow tie which changes to match any colour of robes and twirls around most amusingly whenever your boss tells a joke or a particularly interesting anecdote. A must have for the up-and-coming wizard!"

"The same bow tie, in fact, that you have given me every birthday and Christmas for the last nine years." Ron was trying not to let himself get distracted, but he was finding it hard in the face of things.

Prentice patted Percy's shoulder sympathetically. "Not very grateful, is he?"

Ron fumed. Prentice wasn't even trying to get away. He was standing there, enjoying the drama! They were all pressed up against one another: hexing Prentice was too risky.

"Well really, Ron, you could be up and coming if you would only make the effort," lectured Percy. "I mean look at me and look at you. I'm attending a very fine masquerade party with a beautiful wife, a very satisfying job, and a rather comfortable house to call my own. While you are unmarried, run around after criminals, and are living in a house you dislike and on which's floor you let Auntie Nellie collapse on twice or so many times a year."

"On the other hand, Mum and Dad don't hate me," snapped Ron.

Percy drew back as though he had been slapped.

"Now really, I won't have you talking to my friends like that," said Prentice with a slick, offended tone.

"You aren't anybody's friend," Ron snarled.

Prentice leant to speak into Hermione's ear. "He is a joker, isn't he? He's a little sore because we exchanged sharp words the last time we saw each other. You'd think I'd done something terrible!"

"Madam Granger, I got you yer drink."

A tall stringy man, with thinning sandy hair and a shiny forehead, joined the group holding a glass of wine reverently. He was in his forties and had a Manchurian accent so thick you could have bounced a brick off of it.

Hermione took the glass with a weak smile. "Um, thank you, Sidney."

The man remained standing where he was and so she was forced to introduce him to the others.

"Gentlemen, Penelope, this is Sidney Kripps. He's the Earl's manservant and my colleague."

The man's chest swelled so much that her quick introduction of the rest must have been echoing around inside of him.

After a few moments of silence, the man seemed to realise that he had not planned any further than this and seemed to deflate.

"Ah well..." he said, "I better go, duty calls." He shuffled off with a last longing look at Hermione.

Ron stomped down the twinge of jealousy and returned to his task of trying to simultaneously face down Percy and Prentice.

Thankfully he was spared the first when Percy gave a start as he noticed a fat witch in blue silk. "Excuse me, there's Madam Lorenz, I must circulate."

He steered Penelope away, leaving just Ron, Prentice, and Hermione.

"You have done something terrible," said Ron. "You've killed four witches, three wizards, and a Muggle who had a coat you liked. You also attempted to kill one Hit-Wizard, namely me."

"What?" Hermione's head snapped around to Prentice, and she tried to twist free of his grip, but he moved quickly and gripped Hermione's throat. She gagged and struggled, but was forced still when he produced a black wand, even slicker and crueller than the one Ron held in his hand.

"It is a nice coat isn't it?" said Prentice. "And I like this new wand. American ones tend to have a bit more...oomph."

The threat was lessened somewhat by Luna returning and accidentally splashing Hermione's brown, satin robes with red wine as she elbowed her way forwards. "Have you found-" she noticed Prentice, "-oh you have. Which one of us is right, then?"

Ron was hoping Prentice would be distracted enough to loosen his grip, or for Hermione to at least kick him a bit, but Prentice's grip didn't change, and Hermione was too distracted to attempt escape.

"Luna? What are you doing here?" she asked.

Prentice's whole expression calmed. Despite the fact that he was holding a hostage while about to be arrested, he looked exactly as though they'd been introduced over cocktails and nibbles. "Luna? A charming name for a charming creature! You can call me Lester. I'd kiss your hand, but I'm a little busy."

Luna's expression was as stony as Ron had ever seen it.

"Did you kill Harry?"

Hermione's eyes widened behind her gold mask, and her voice was hoarse when she spoke, "Harry's dead?"

"We don't know," said Luna softly.

"Why are you here, Luna?" she asked.

Hermione's expression was confused and hurt, as though she was wondering why an old school friend was involved and she hadn't been notified. Maybe she should have bothered to write more than once a month, Ron thought icily.

He held Prentice's old wand out warningly, and his eyes didn't leave the man as he spoke. "She came to see me because Harry stood her up last night. He's missing, and she thinks the Morton curse has something to do with it. I think she's here to spy, too."

Prentice chuckled and smiled. "Charming, charming. Well...I do so hate to leave a good party, but I really think that I'd better take my leave. Hermione here should come with me, just in case anyone tries to follow."

Ron was about to use the first hex that came to mind, but there was a sudden distraction. A thundering roar came from the direction of the entrance, and there were screams as people started to run. The small group was in the middle of the room and was quickly swept up, legs working on automatic.

Hermione managed to struggle free from Prentice's arms, and Ron practically swam after him as the man dived towards the door at the other end of the room.

"The ceiling in the entrance! It's collapsed!" yelled one party-goer.

There was an animal roar from the direction of the hall. It didn't sound like a collapsed ceiling.

"Troll!" someone else shouted.

Ron tried to snatch Prentice's coat, but bellowed: "Which?" to anyone who might be listening.

"Both!" someone else shrieked.

Everyone was trying to push out through the doors at the other end of the ballroom. Luna was some way in front, her feather bobbing above the jostling heads. He felt someone shove past him and realised it was Hermione. Prentice was just a little was to his right...

"I'm going to look around the research room!" Luna shouted, trying to struggle ahead through the door and veer to the left.

"NO!" yelled Hermione. "Get outside!"

Ron felt her struggles increase as she pushed forward.

The air was hot and people were yelling and disorientated. Some witches and wizards were Apparating away with deafening cracks, but most were just running in panic as a menacing troll lumbered after them.

Not an ounce of logic, Ron remembered vaguely.

Hermione was chasing after Luna; Prentice managed to turn his head around in the crowd and give Ron a viscous grin before following after the two girls.

He had no choice but to follow Prentice, moving further into the roasting house and away from the cool exit. The troll was close- the floorboards were jilting under Ron's feet as the creature stamped after them. People were pushing after Ron, not caring where he was going, so long as it took them away from the threat.

Luna scrambled down some dank steps near the kitchens and along an unlit stone corridor. Hermione was panting but still sprinting after her, and Prentice was following them at an easy jog. He even had time to turn and wave to Ron before casually going down the steps. Ron sped up and practically leapt down after him.

He sprinted along the smooth flags and slammed his hands into the iron door before Prentice managed to swing it shut. The fleeing people flooded in behind him and jostled to shut and charm the door before the troll smashed its way through.

Ron was disorientated in this dark, new area, and he spun around, searching for Prentice's green coat.

Prentice seemed to have disappeared.

He wondered if Prentice had managed to get out before the door shut, and he moved towards it, but a thump and a creak of iron from outside made him realise that there was most definitely a troll on the other side.

He looked over to Hermione who had stumbled over to where Sidney was sweeping the floor.

"Miss?"

"Sidney, emergency!" panted Hermione.

She began speaking to him in a low tone. Her crossed arms and worried glances around the room made this a conversation Ron wanted to eavesdrop on, but he didn't think he stood a chance.

People were starting to panic. There were about fifty people inside and apart from the two doors (the heavy closed iron one currently being battered by the troll and an open cupboard), there were no exits or windows. There was not even a fireplace to Floo from. Several witches and wizards had recovered enough to try and Apparate away, and had found, to their horror, that it was as impossible as Apparition from Hogwarts.

The lack of escape aside, though, the room was rather interesting. The large, ark-shaped ceiling and wooden, pew-like seats that lined the walls gave the room a religious air and a church-like look. The damaged trinkets and machines rested randomly on those seats, while the doors were at either end of the inward facing pew seats.

The most interesting item in the room, however, was something else entirely and had already gained a lot attention. It was an old oak tree, laid reverentially on its side in the centre of the aisle between the pews. The leaves were gone, leaving only bare, wintry branches. The tree itself had not been chopped down, but carefully removed from the earth, with the roots still attached. These splayed out onto the tiled floor.

To add to Ron's curiosity, and to that of others in the room, a red cord surrounded the tree as though it were a sort of exhibit in a museum. Luna was examining it. After a final look around for Prentice, Ron went over to her.

"Have you seen Prentice?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. He was about to clarify that he'd meant in the last minute, but she spoke again in that sudden way of hers.

"I stunned him as we came in. It seemed the safest option until we figured out who was right about Harry." She pointed to a pair of polished shoes sticking out from behind the first row of pews.

Ron stared at them, shocked. "Uh...thanks. Is-is this actually the cursed tree, then?

Luna had lost interest in him- she was staring at Hermione, who was talking to the thin man again.

"Hmm? Yes."

Ron opened his mouth to ask another question but she spoke again. "Have you seen much of Hermione lately?"

He couldn't stop the un-amused laugh. "Hah! No. Didn't Harry tell you? She disappeared." He ran a hand through his slightly-too-long hair. "We each get a letter a month and that's it. She replies, but she never says much about what she's doing."

Luna raised a pale eyebrow. "Maybe my theory is right, about witches and wizards being kidnapped. Only maybe Hermione was of some use to them."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione? Working on a conspiracy? Don't be daft. You can't go around believing everything your dad dreams up."

Luna's head snapped around. "I don't just repeat everything he says blindly," she said in an affronted tone. "I have my own mind. I am an investigative reporter-"

An insane one, Ron was about to snap. He didn't though, partly because of the righteous expression on her face, and partly because Hermione was bearing down upon them, looking extremely harassed.

"Where's Prentice?" she demanded.

Luna and Ron silently pointed to the shoes sticking up from where Prentice lay. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Ron surged ahead.

"Hermione, where've you been?"

A guilty expression crossed her face, which, to an experienced investigator like him, was nearly as good as a signed confession.

He was about to press further when she seemed to sigh and deflate. "I got a chance to help people. There are more important things to think about at the moment, aren't there? For a start, we've got about seventy people trapped in a non-Apparition zone, with no fireplace, no windows, and a troll at the door."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "There are seventy people in here. You're not saying between us we couldn't handle a troll. We managed it when we were eleven."

"You did?" asked Luna keenly. She rustled in a fold of her dress and produced a notebook and quill. They ignored this.

Hermione crossed her arms and shook her head. Her mask was still on, he noticed.

"No, Ron - we can't risk the troll getting into this room."

Ron scowled. "Then we wait until the people come when they realise we're trapped," he said impatiently.

Luna leaned forward, quill poised. "What has been going on in this castle, really?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business!" said Hermione indignantly. There was the guilty look again, but Ron refused to believe Luna's theories out of habit.

"Let's sort this out, once and for all, right?" he said. "Hermione, have you personally, or are you aware of anyone kidnapping, killing, or harming Harry?"

"No!"

"Have you or anyone else kidnapped, killed, or harmed anyone else?"

The emphatic 'no' did not come. Hermione was looking at the ground.

"Hermione?" he asked faintly.

"Tell us," egged Luna. "We can help."

"You'll publish it in that magazine, more like!" said Hermione fiercely.

Luna adopted an 'I'll-have-you-know' expression, but Ron decided to get there first.

"She's thinking of writing a book, actually," he said.

Luna nodded seriously.

Hermione looked suspicious for a moment and ran her hands over her mask and up through her hair. It took Ron a moment to realise she wasn't laughing, but crying.

He steered her to one of the pew-like seats. She sat slumped for a moment, staring sadly out in front of her. She sniffled, and Luna sat down between them and patted Hermione's back.

Hermione, never known for her touchy feely nature, pulled herself together at this. She sighed and breathed in as though beginning a story.

"The Earl sent me an owl not long after the war ended," she said faintly. "He said he'd heard of me and that he thought maybe I could succeed with ending the curse where all those great wizards failed, and well, I was flattered. So this is what I've been doing for nine whole years while you've been out there building your life."

"You've still not figured it out?" said Ron incredulously. "Couldn't you just call it quits? I mean, it might be embarrassing to be beaten by a tree, but it would take the weight off your social life."

Hermione laughed sarcastically. "The oak tree is the least of my problems! I figured that out a year on in."

"So why are you still here? You could be Minister of Magic now," he said.

Luna had her notebook out again. She was scratching away frantically.

"It wasn't that simple," sighed Hermione. "Magic can't be contained because magic only lives in living things like trees or animals or people. It takes time to turn it into something that can."

Hermione started to wave her hands, a sign Ron had long ago recognised as 'lecture mode'. Ron was actually interested, but his tired mind started to drift as it always did during serious study. She seemed to be describing how her experiment worked...

Luna showed no signs of tiredness though. She was writing frantically, and her bulging eyes never left Hermione's face. Hermione seemed to forget Luna was classed as a reporter and seemed quite eager to go into detail, which put Ron off even further. He had to settle for picking out occasional words and nodding when Luna nodded.

Luna tapped her notebook. For a brief second she glanced at him as if to say 'here' before her full attention turned to a wildly-gesturing Hermione.

He peered down at it and saw she had drawn a sketch in the silver ink she liked to use.

On the left was a stick-like tree (which she had helpfully labelled 'Cursed Tree'). On the right she had drawn a square and labelled it 'cupboard'. In between the two was a small square she had simply called 'Hermione's Machine'.

The idiot's guide to breaking curses, obviously.

Luna was apparently still engrossed in a discussion about magical potential, but she carried on with the diagram.

She wrote 'Machine is switched on' underneath.

Next to Ron, Luna began to make a humming sound, as though the box in the middle had come to life. She tapped the paper with the wand in her right hand, and an arrow wiggled from the tree to the box. She tapped again, and another arrow moved from the box to the cupboard.

The curse left the tree, and the machine channelled it into the cupboard. That was simple enough. He understood that.

"So you can see the potential, can't you?" Hermione was saying to Luna. "It made sense to adjust the machine to work on other-"

Luna added another note. 'Machine switched off.' The faint hum stopped.

"So I started research into some threats-"

She carefully crossed out the word 'Cursed' in the diagram and copied it into the picture of the cupboard.

When the machine was done, the curse ended up in the cupboard, and the tree was just a tree again.

It all made sense, but why the secrecy? Why the-

Hermione was looking at the floor, as though she had just confessed something bad, and from the way she was glancing to him, she was nervous of his reply. Luna's bulging eyes were on her face. He'd tuned their voices out; had Luna said something?

He looked desperately between the two of them. The quill tapped the notebook again. He peered into Luna's lap.

Underneath the first diagram she had drawn another, exactly the same except this time there was a stick-man instead of a tree. She had labelled him 'Evil Wizard'.

'Machine switched on'.

She tapped the parchment twice again. Arrows moved across the page.

Ron knew where this was going. He knew Hermione too well. He watched, though, in the dreadful hope that he was wrong.

'Machine switched off'

Luna drew a cross through the word 'Evil' and moved it across to the cupboard.

Luna made another note underneath the stick figure. It read 'My interviewees'.

Hermione had found a way to remove bad magic from people. And she'd used it.

***

Author's Notes: If you have any thoughts about the fic at all I would love to hear them.