Jewel

V

"He's gone, then," Draco said casually.

"He is," Ginny agreed. "Apparently, he left early this morning. I hadn't even seen him yet."

The blonde man sighed and spread his hands on the tabletop. "Well, in his defence, going through a mutation of that magnitude isn't exactly good for your mental stability. I guess he needed some time to get his head in order."

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "You only said that to impress me, didn't you?"

He grinned. "Yeah. I did."

"You do realize that was kind of a pathetic attempt, don't you?"

"Did it work?"

"...no."

"In that case, it wasn't an attempt. I was merely testing the waters."

A snort from the doorway announced Harry. Draco smirked in response. "Feeling a little threatened, Potter?"

"No, by all means. Knock yourself out." He waved cheerily at Ginny, then proceeded to juggle an apple, a piece of toast and a cup of tea between his hands and mouth.

"Impressive," said Draco.

Ginny smiled and downed her coffee. "So, where's Hermione?"

Harry frowned. "I haven't seen her in a while. I think she's up in the library with Blaise."

Draco tilted his head. "She is? Interesting."

The black-haired man sniggered. "It's interesting all right."

Ginny sighed and shook her head. "Honestly. What is it with men and... Draco? Are you all right?"

All colour had drained from the already pale blonde's face. He suddenly doubled over in his chair, panting and retching, then slid off it. Ginny was at his side in an instant. A few frightening seconds later he sat up again, blue in the face. "I think we have a problem."

~*~

Blaise sat on the library floor, coughing, his left forearm in a white-knuckled grip. Hermione crouched next to him. "Care to tell me what that was about?"

"That," he said hoarsely, "was the second-worst summons I've ever experienced. And it means big trouble." He tried to get up, but failed - wordlessly, Hermione offered him her arm for support. He took it without meeting her eye.

"What do you mean, big trouble?"

"I mean possibly disastrous trouble. Last time I was summoned this harshly, it was because Potter had escaped from an area I was supposed to have secured. I was... held in Voldemort's Sanctum for three days. Not a pleasant experience."

Hermione winced. "So. What happens next?"

He laughed mirthlessly. "What happens next? I go to Voldemort. You should stay here."

Hermione frowned at him. "And why is that?"

"Because the Dark Lord probably has tripled the surveillance on my house right now. I don't want to take any chances."

She regarded him for a long moment, then nodded sharply. "And what if he manages to get into the house while we're still here?"

Blaise shrugged. "You'll just stay hidden. You'll have to enter the corridors."

He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. She put a steadying hand on his arm. "The corridors?"

"It takes twenty minutes to walk from the lowest wine cellar to the library. The builders, apparently, thought that a little long. The walls are riddled with secret passages and rooms. Most of the corridors are just shortcuts, but the larger rooms were generally used for more... unconventional experiments."

"Unconventional doesn't sound good."

He looked at her through half-lidded eyes. "It isn't. Dark Magic is frowned upon, so my ancestors felt obliged to move their pet projects to places where prying eyes couldn't see them. On the plus side, that means that the corridors are undetectable for ones who don't know what to look for."

"On the con side, however, is the fact that most of the Black Wizards in my family turned stark-raving mad before they could finish their experiments. I've put Containment wards on most of the heavily tainted rooms, but there still is a lot of resonance."

Hermione smiled grimly. "Nothing we can't handle. How do we get in?"

"Through the panel at the left end of the third Transfiguration aisle. Password is sub rosa nocte atissima est. Take the stairs leading down, then the third door on the right. That room should be warded enough to hold the three of you. I'll meet you there as soon as I possibly can. Tell Draco to go back to Malfoy Manor."

He swallowed hard, then squared his shoulders. "Well then..."

"Blaise, wait. You can't just leave like this. What if something happens, what if something goes wrong, what if..." She swallowed. "what if you get hurt? We can't spirit you away from his Sanctum! What if you get stuck down there?"

He grinned and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Hey. Don't forget, I'm on the bad side.... It'll be fine. I promise."

With that, he stepped back and vanished with a sharp crack, leaving her breathing hard, her hands wrapped around her throat, feeling almost enough indignation to stamp her foot in fury. Men.

Seconds later, Harry and Ginny burst in through the library doors. "Draco's just been summoned. He told us to come find... where's Blaise?"

The feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach grew. "He was summoned, as well."

Brusquely, she turned around, motioning for the others to follow her.

"Where are we going?" said Ginny, trotting to catch up with her.

"Blaise told me to hide in the secret corridors of the house. There should be an entrance..." She turned sharp left at the third Transfiguration aisle and stalked towards the wooden panel at the end of it. "Right here."

Carefully, she ran her hands over the dark material. After a few seconds of concentration, she recognized a magical pulse. "This is it," she whispered, then she turned to face the others.

"He warned me that it might be dangerous down there. Radiation from old Black Magic experiments. Be on your guard." When they both had nodded, she twirled around again and took a deep breath.

"Sub rosa nocte atissima est."

The panel slid away soundlessly, to reveal a gaping black hole.

Ginny grinned. "Ooh. I like."

Harry snorted and drew his wand, pointing it deftly at the entrance. "Solario." Instantly, the many torches gracing the corridor walls flared up, revealing a winding staircase.

"Down," directed Hermione. "Naturally."

She felt it as soon as the panel had closed behind them. The radiation pressed down on her like a heavy hand. She shrugged it off - it wasn't as if she could do anything about it right then, and she'd better concentrate on finding the room Blaise had mentioned.

After thirty-two steps, they encountered a door, leading to a small chamber featuring more doors; one on the left, one on the right and one straight in front of them. After a slight hesitation she chose the one in front of them. The one on their right could of course be the "third door on the right", but it wasn't likely; Blaise wouldn't have wasted time on riddles.

They encountered another chamber exactly like the first one, and then another. At that point, they'd taken seventy-six steps down and twenty-eight up. Hermione carefully closed the door behind them, and regarded the door leading to the right.

It seemed normal enough, and when she slid her hands over it, she felt no extraordinary magical pulse, so she decided to just open it. She did draw her wand, though.

That turned out to be unnecessary. The room was not really big and not really comfortable, but there were two couches and a rug gracing the rough stone interior. A fireplace was centred in one of the walls, a wooden worktable stood in a corner. It was buried under a mass of parchment; none of it old, by the looks of it. Hermione smiled. She definitely wouldn't get bored.

Ginny shivered. "Let's light a fire and put out the torches," she said. "We wouldn't want to confirm to anyone that there's someone down here."

Harry shot an unvoiced incendio at the hearth, and extinguished the torches outside the room with another flick of his wand. He then pulled the door closed and proceeded to plonk down on one of the couches, flinching. "Sodding headache," he grunted.

Ginny smiled and curled up on the rug, staring at the flames. Hermione started rummaging through the parchments. She was familiar enough with Blaise's hand to recognize it without hesitation, and the notes and calculations were definitely written by him. It'd be interesting to find out what he'd been keeping hidden even from the occasional visitor he got.

They waited.

~*~

It was eight hours later when the door slammed open. The three of them flew to their feet, jinxes on their lips - "Sorry about that," said Blaise.

He looked terrible. His full black robes smudged with dirt and torn in places, his face ash-coloured, his eyes wide and blank, he was the image of a tortured man. Hermione almost whimpered when she saw a burn-mark on the side of his cheek; she forced it down and drew her wand to heal it. He regarded her stoically as she muttered the incantations, and inclined his head in gratitude when she'd finished.

"What happened?" Harry asked hoarsely when she stepped back.

Blaise shook his head. "No time to talk. I've brought you this. I'll try to send Sally, later."

He crossed the room even while he spoke, carefully raising the black metal box he held. He placed it on the table with the utmost care. "I'll be back to check on you and discuss some things, later. For now - the contents will explain all." He threw one last glance at Hermione, then stalked from the room as brusquely as he could manage. The door closed behind him with a soft snap.

"That," said Ginny, "was not good."

Harry was already moving towards the table, but Hermione got there first. Carefully, she shifted the box to pull the parchments from underneath it, then collected the papers and tied them together with a piece of string from her jeans pocket. They'd been an interesting read; apparently Blaise, Malfoy and the eleven other Death Eater traitors had put together quite a plan already - the calculations, lists and notes had indicated so much. She hadn't been able to come to a conclusion, though.

She carefully opened a box. Harry swallowed beside her. It contained a Pensieve, a two-way mirror and a small, sealed note. Exchanging a glance with Ginny, who had been staring into the box with equal disbelief, the brunette carefully extracted the note and opened it.

The memories in the Pensieve might not explain everything, but it is all I could put together in a few minutes. It might also not be pleasant to witness. Whatever you do, don't worry.

~ Blaise

Her voice had cracked before she'd finished reading out loud.

Ginny looked nauseous. "Well, he doesn't leave us much of a choice, does he?" Harry said uncertainly.

"He doesn't." Hermione sighed. "Let's do it, then."

Ginny's hand clasped hers tightly as they descended into the memories.

~*~

Blaise had obviously just arrived; he was dusting off his robes from the Apparition. When he was satisfied, he pulled his mask from a pocket. It was frightening to see the kind Italian man she liked change in a Death Eater so easily. He rolled his shoulders, and stalked from the room.

Ginny swallowed, next to her. "Let's follow him, then."

In the hall, he was joined by another Death Eater. "Malfoy," breathed Harry, and indeed, Hermione was pretty sure she recognized his gait. The two men in front of them didn't speak.

Harry suddenly whistled. "Have you two realized where we must be? If the two of them keep up this pace, we might get ourselves half the layout of Voldemort's Sanctum.."

"I wouldn't count on..." Hermione swallowed the rest of her sentence as they rounded a corner. In front of them lay a set of high double doors, and beyond those was a round chamber. The far wall seemed to be made entirely from coloured glass; light filtered in though swirls of green, blue, purple and silver. The black silhouette of a robed man formed a sharp contrast.

Zabini and Malfoy crossed the room, still in silence. When they were at a distance of about fifteen feet from the figure, they kneeled in one fluid motion. "My lord," they muttered.

Ever so slowly, Voldemort turned. "Ah," he drawled. "Two of my faithful servants."

Spellfire shot from both sides of the room, effectively binding the two men to their positions. Another flash of light brightened the interior; this time it was a single ray, coming from the left of the room. Malfoy started twitching violently in his boundaries.

"Do tell, Zabini... How is it that you've been commanding the team that is to search for Potter and his cronies for three full days, and you haven't brought back even the slightest piece of information? For my patience is limited, you see, and I'm afraid it's nearly worn out."

"My lord," Blaise rasped, "I..."

Light burst from the right side of the room, and pain blossomed in a small chamber of Hermione's mind; horror flooded through her when she realized that someone had put the Cruciatus on him. She turned to see who it was, but the corners of the room were lost in shadow - she couldn't even trace an outline of a person.

"And you, Malfoy. Your idea was such a promising thing... and then you failed to attach it to Weasley before time ran out; his Turn has been confirmed. You must know by now that I don't like failure, don't you?"

Malfoy had stopped twitching, and hung limply in his restraints, wheezing. "My Lord, I can explain - "

"Of course you can. You're a Malfoy. You could charm a Dementor if you tried. But this time, I'm afraid I don't need your explanation - I've already received one. Actually - why don't you listen to it yourself?"

Voldemort motioned with his hand, and from the recesses of the shadows near the doors came a man. About every three steps he stopped to made a quick bow to the pale figure dominating the room, but finally, he came to a halt, standing between the two men bound to their knees.

"Why don't you tell me again what you've found out, Pean," Voldemort said, disdain dripping from his every syllable.

"Yes, my Lord. As you say, my Lord. I will, my Lord."

"Get on with it," the snakelike voice snapped.

"Yes, my Lord. I had overheard word from some Tuscan village people seeing a strange man wandering around, late last night. I deemed their words intriguing enough to check upon."

"Tell us their words, Pean..."

"Of course, my Lord - " the man nearly tripped over his tongue in his haste to obey - "literally translated, they described him as 'a pale red-haired man lurking around the Muscati's fountain', my Lord. Naturally, I went to investigate. I didn't find the actual man, but I did find magical residue. It took me five minutes to determine that the original spells had been cast by none other than Ronald Weasley, my Lord."

"None other than Ronald Weasley's wand, Pean. But you have made your point. Dismissed."

The man paled and spluttered through more honorifics, then fled as Voldemort drew himself up threateningly. The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes after him, then turned his attention back to the two men on the floor.

"Funny, isn't it? An idiot such as Pean is quicker in getting me an actual sighting than the two of you combined. Oh, don't worry, you'll get to explain yourselves. Later."

Blinding flashes of light came from the corners of the room - then everything went pitch-black very suddenly. Hermione blinked hard and swallowed. This particular piece of memory had obviously been ripped out.

Just as abruptly, the light returned again. They were still in the round room, but Voldemort was sitting, now; from what she could see, his chair was shaped like a throne, and decorated with snakes. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Zabini and Malfoy lay sprawled on the floor, coughing and panting. Their robes indicated that a long time had passed since Pean's report; they were torn and blood-smeared.

"Get up," Voldemort snarled.

Slowly, they raised themselves into the position they had taken when they'd entered. She saw Ginny flinch as Malfoy leaned heavily on his hands.

"Report."

Zabini cleared his throat. "My Lord. As you know, I have always been your faithful follower. I can assure you that my... inadequacy of granting you information had nothing to do with failure - I simply did not wish to present unconfirmed information to you."

"My team and I struck dead almost instantly, and thus I have issued the command to spread out and search for clues. I myself retreated to Italy. When I was summoned, I had already suspected the presence of Weasley in Italy for seven hours; ever since I came across an Apparition trail too old to identify, near the Mediterranean Sea. I have been Arithmically calculating Weasley's possible moves since then."

"Any luck?"

"I'm close, my Lord."

"Very well. Malfoy?"

"I have been working on the Gem, my Lord. I have found a way to attach it to Weasley, even if Turned. I decided to create it at Zabini Manor, with the consent of Zabini himself, for the simple reason that Weasley must not be able to detect traces of Dark Magic on the Gem. Zabini Manor's Radiance wards are much older, and stronger, than the ones on Malfoy Manor."

"When will you finish the Gem?"

"Within the hour, my Lord."

"I wish to inspect it. Now. How will the situation be handled?"

Zabini spoke again. "I will move the entire search party to Zabini Manor as soon as Malfoy has finished his Gem. You, my Lord, will of course decide which individuals will be partaking, but I have one suggestion..."

"Which is?"

"I would like to add Pean to the search team. Not to be disrespectful, my Lord, but I find it... odd that a new recruit such as he is so quick in tracking Weasley."

"What are you implying?"

"Simply that I would like to have him within the eyesight of men of unquestionable loyalty."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. Zabini's head bowed in respect. The silence lasted for a while. Then - "Very well. He will join Nott's division."

"Yes, my Lord."

"You are dismissed. Bring me the Gem, Malfoy."

"Yes, my Lord."

The two men rose, bowed - albeit a bit stiffly - and walked from the room. It was only after they'd rounded the corned that they started limping.

The image suddenly turned watery - the colours blurred, faded, merged - the direction of the light altered -

"Within the hour? Have you completely lost your mind?"

They were standing in the Zabini Manor entrance hall, and Blaise had just ripped the Death Eater mask off his face. The other man untied his with an air of infuriating calmness.

"No sweat, Zabini. I've got it covered."

"Show me."

"Accio Warding Gem!"

Stoically, Draco pocketed his mask and caught the object he'd summoned. "My grandfather created it. Apparently, one of his mistresses was a vampire, and he used this to control her mind."

The tension flooded from Blaise's shoulders as he heaved a sigh. "Why do you always succeed in getting me riled up over nothing?"

"Karma, Blaise. Karma."

Again the colours blurred - the hall shrank, turned into a corridor, Draco's image faded -

Blaise was stalking up the marble staircase leading to the library. "For the record, this monologue is part of the plan. I haven't just gotten mad. All right?"

Harry snorted.

"Right. About the two-way mirror I'm about to give you guys - if you need to speak to me, cover the sapphire with your thumb and say my name. Softly. I'll answer as soon as I can, but it's likely that I'm surrounded by Death Eaters from this point on, so it might take a while. Don't worry, I've got everything under control. I'm sending Sally to check in on you. She'll bring you anything you ask for. Don't be overly demanding, please - she might be followed if she carries around conspicuous things. I'll try to come by to brief you guys some more, but I might not manage. So. I guess that's it..."

The image of Blaise faded - a sudden jolt in her stomach --

~*~

It didn't take long for Hermione to come to her senses again. It did take long for her to coerce herself into getting up from her position on the floor.

When she finally did, she found Harry sitting with his head cradled in his hands, staring dejectedly into the fire.

Next to him sat Draco.

The pale-haired man spoke as soon as he noticed her moving. "You sure took your sweet time getting up, Granger."

"Nice to see you all in one piece, too, Malfoy," she greeted him. "What's your excuse for being here?"

"Well," he said, leaning back into the couch, "technically, no one knows I'm here. Yet. They all think I'm still being interrogated by the Dark Lord. I guess I have another half hour before I should head back."

She nodded. "What's going on in the house?"

"Apparently, Blaise welcomed his guests sub rosa."

Ginny looked up questioningly from her cat-like position on the rug. "What's that?"

"He welcomed them masked and cloaked - meaning that, as soon as he put down mask and cloak, he wouldn't be playing the role of the host anymore, but the role of a guest, like the others. A clever move, really. It gives him a lot more freedom, and in the higher magical circles, it's considered an act of good faith - and good taste."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "So - who is playing the role of host?"

"House elves," Draco said lightly. "I've sent some of Malfoy Manor's here as a reinforcement; Blaise nurses the ridiculous belief he can run a manor with less than twenty."

Harry started. "He needed more than twenty?" The blonde man looked flustered, then his expression turned grim.

"Actually, even my additional ten weren't enough. Some of the others brought their own, too."

"How many Death Eaters are here?" insisted Harry.

Draco sighed. "Thirty-five. Blaise and me included."

Silence carried for a while, then Ginny whistled. "And that's one search party? You guys sure know how to exaggerate."

Draco smiled grimly. "It's five search parties. Members of the Golden Trio are considered quite important."

Harry threw himself back into the couch. "Well isn't that just wonderful. We're trapped inside the house where the search party looking for an oblivious member of our group is residing."

"Karma's a bitch," agreed Ginny.

Hermione clicked her tongue. "We can't get out while the search party's still here. We'll have to stay hidden. That probably means no wand magic - but I really don't feel like sitting around here doing nothing while waiting for some Death Eaters to find us. Ginny - would you mind lending Draco your keys?"

The redhead nodded, fidgeted around in her pockets and threw a sparkly metal ring at the blonde. "Spare wands are in the top drawer of my wardrobe - don't take the black boxes. And stay the hell away from my knickers."

He grinned crookedly. "Now why on earth do you think I'd want to have anything to do with your knickers...? Wait - " He tilted his head. " - don't answer that. Need anything else?"

The corner of Hermione's mouth curled upwards as he realized that was about the stupidest thing he could possibly have said.

~*~

"So," said Ginny casually, "why are you poisoning the air we're breathing again?"

Hermione huffed. "It's not poison. It just stings."

"And has certain acidic qualities."

"It was supposed to do that!"

Ginny arched an eyebrow.

Hermione sighed. "Just give me another hour, okay?"

"That's what you said two hours ago," the redhead pouted, but she obliged and rejoined Harry in the far corner of the room, as far away as possible from the putrid black smoke coiling from the cauldron.

Hermione had been busying herself with it since Draco had returned to bring them the stuff she'd asked for. Lucky enough for the others, Harry had had the sense to ask him for a chessboard, as well.

"Any luck?" he asked, fidgeting with a defeated horse.

"None whatsoever," Ginny replied, pushing her queen three squares to the left, "and checkmate. Again."

He sighed. "Strategy is one of the things I will never understand. Right along with females and Muggle remote controls."

She laughed. "Well, in case it helps, you do get better."

"Uh-huh."

"A snail's progress is better then no progress at all..."

He threw the chess piece at her.

Hermione's cauldron chose this specific moment to - rather violently - spew out some particularly pungent fumes.

When the haze had receded somewhat, both Ginny and Harry turned to stare accusingly at Hermione - the effect spoiled a little by the fact that they were both still watery-eyed and coughing. "Was that really necessary?"

"Well, I..." Hermione started to speak, but another voice cut over her.

"Of course it was, Potter. Isn't a slowly dissipating smog the best dramatic entrance a girl can ask for?"

Silence hung heavy while the smog slowly dissipated.

It was Ginny who broke it. "Pansy? Parkinson?" she breathed, just as Harry drew his wand.

"That's me. No sweat, Potter. I didn't go through the trouble of getting here just to betray you to the Death Eaters."

"Then why did you?" he shot back.

"To break you out, of course," she said simply, crossed the room and sat down in the centre of the couch. "Do you happen to have any coffee down here?"

"Break us out?!"

"One of you, yes. Preferably you, Weasley."

A stunned silence, once again, claimed the room.

Pansy sighed and folded her arms across her chest. "I'll take that as a "no coffee", then."

~*~

Ginny sat back and re-crossed her legs. "So. You're saying that you can bail me out, since I'm not officially on any side, and that Harry and Hermione have to stay in here 'till doomsday. Am I right?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Weasley, cut the drama. You're the only one that remotely stands a chance of having some sort of reason for being here under Polyjuice. When either of those two is detected, all of us hang. Don't tell me you don't understand that reasoning."

"I'm sorry, but did I just hear you insinuate that I would ever accept a contract on my own brother?"

Hermione rubbed her brow while Harry drew a sharp breath. "For heaven's sake, Gin. You're a known assassin. Play the part, will you?"

"Family's family," spat Ginny.

"You didn't seem too much troubled by that the night you murdered your - " Pansy stopped short when she felt steel bands tighten around her neck.

"Finish that sentence," Ginny purred, wand outstretched, "and you'll wish your mother never seduced your father."

"ENOUGH!" Harry thundered, suddenly standing. He threw his arms up and Hermione heard rather than felt the ripple of force pushing her to the ground.

"I would like to remind the lot of you," he spat, "that we are currently not only the most wanted individuals on the continent, but also sitting ducks. I would like to remind you, Ginny, that your family is practically family to me and Hermione since her parents passed, and that whatever measures necessary to protect any of you I would take. And I would like to remind you, Parkinson, that if you ever dare to speak ill of any of the Weasleys again, you will have trouble lifting a spoon, and you'll have to lift a spoon because you'll be living off soup, on account of having no damn teeth. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal," muttered Ginny, eyes wide as saucers.

"Good!" said Harry, suddenly looking rather embarrassed. He shoved a hand through his hair, and gingerly sat back down on the couch. "Erm. You were saying?"

"Right!" said Pansy, who had been staring. "Right. Conversation. Yes." She cleared her throat. "My apologies, Weasley, that comment just now was uncalled for."

Ginny inclined her head, but didn't stop scowling.

"Why don't you tell us what you're planning, Parkinson?" suggested Hermione.

"It's pretty simple, actually - I was thinking of a double transformation. First she Polyjuices into someone who isn't really allied with the Dark, but close - I got a hair off Arabella Swan - and then she does a little bit of transformative magic to make her look somewhat more like me. Then I could pass her off as a relative who is interested in goings-on, and if people were to dispel the magic, she'd still be out of real trouble. I've had Draco make the potion - he says it'll keep the spell on for four hours instead of one. If even that fails, we'll have to improvise."

"And why don't you explain to us why we should trust you with her?" suggested Harry - his tone a little darker than Hermione's.

Pansy stared. "Are you serious? I've been your informant for over seven months!"

"That was you?" said Hermione after a rather stunned silence. "I thought Blaise - "

Pansy huffed. "Zabini? Really? Have you no idea? The Lord's entire inner circle is under constant surveillance, and when I say constant, I mean it. No one gets in or out of this mansion - any of the circle's mansions - without the Lord knowing about it."

She smirked. "However, if one should find a truly ancient way of cross-continent transport - say, an apparition pentacle - and make sure its trail is closely resembling the rather excessive wards around a large mansion.. suffice it to say that detection is - not likely."

It was all Hermione could do not to stare. "Are you saying you put up that pentacle?"

"Ah," said Pansy, "no. That was Blaise. But enough about me. What about you, Weasley? Are you in?"

Ginny sucked her teeth. Harry glared. "Fine," she muttered, "Deal. But cross me once, Parkinson, and I swear to Deirdre I'll.."

"That's all sorted out then," Hermione said loudly. "I expect you'll want to be on your way."

Making the transformations was a matter of minutes. Just as Pansy opened the door, Harry pressed an old DA galleon in Ginny's hand. "Send a message if she tries anything, and we'll be after you, whatever happens." She nodded sharply, then turned 'round and stalked out of the room.

The door slammed behind them.