Endlong into Midnight

CHAPTER SEVEN
The Plain of Mementoes

"I think I've figured out how to destroy the Horcruxes," Wesley said, pushing absent-mindedly at his nose as if reaching for glasses that weren't there anymore, and rearranging the books spread before him on his desk.

Hermione frowned at him and was aware of Angel doing the same from where he stood against Wesley's office wall. He didn't look healthy, Wesley, with creases in his forehead and bags under his eyes. The usual stubble on his jaw was well along toward becoming a beard. She wondered when Wesley had slept last.

"Voldemort, it would appear, doesn't speak Greek," Wesley said. "I had managed to exhaust the printed resources with references to Horcruxes, I admit --" he indicated the pile of books teetering on the edge of his desk, then continued, "but then I hit upon the idea of searching through the collection of scrolls preserved in the vault."

"You found something," said Angel.

"I did indeed," Wesley said, giving Angel a look that Hermione translated as thank you for that stunning observation. "A small cache of scrolls written by an ancient Greek magician and scientist named Herpo the Foul."

Hermione blinked. "Herpo the Foul? He wasn't just a magician, he --"

"He was a wizard, yes. As I discovered when I read these scrolls."

"He created the first basilisk," said Hermione. "He was one of the darkest Dark wizards that ever lived."

Illyria, standing in the far corner of Wesley's office, turned at the mention of the basilisk. Hermione glanced at it and saw its face flicker with interest, quickly smoothed over into the usual air of haughty superiority.

"We should have figured he'd have something to do with this," Ginny said from behind Hermione. Hermione turned, looking over her shoulder, and saw Ginny scowling. "It wouldn't be the first thing he invented that Voldemort turned into a toy."

"We had a bad experience with a basilisk at Hogwarts," Hermione explained.

Wesley frowned, blinked, and unrolled a scroll onto his desk. "At any rate, while I doubt that Herpo was the first to discover Horcruxes, from the content of these scrolls, he appears to have done significant research into both their creation and destruction."

Lupin, sitting in the chair next to Hermione, leaned forward. Wesley pushed the scroll toward him. He continued, "Herpo wrote, 'To einai' -- he's referring to a Horcrux here -- 'to einai opous ena prosoupo' -- which jibes with what you've told me about the creation of a Horcrux, Miss Granger. Then he continues, 'Tha to katastrepsete o idios --'"

"English, mate," Spike interjected. "For the rest of us, some bloody English please."

Wesley gave Spike a sour and cranky look. "Accounting for Herpo's extraordinarily bad spelling, I believe the translation of the scroll is, 'The Horcrux is now like a person. You will destroy it the same way that you will destroy a person.'"

"Of course," Hermione breathed, "of course. They've souls, so you have to kill them like you would a human. Oh, why didn't I think of that?"

"Which brings up another question." Angel shifted, crossing his arms and repositioning himself against the wall. "How do you kill a piece of metal?"

"Shoot it?" suggested Spike. "Smash it? Put it in a locked room with Peaches singing karaoke?"

"Avada Kedavra," Lupin said flatly.

"You're sure?" Wesley asked, raising his eyebrows.

"It makes sense." Lupin sighed and scratched at a temple. "These Horcruxes are magically created -- they have a magical life, and they need a magical death. Avada Kedavra does that. It's a totally magical method of killing, undetectable by Muggles. Those other ways -- well, aside from Angel's singing voice, I won't deny that they're effective for killing, but they're Muggle methods. I don't think they'll work on an object so profoundly magical as a Horcrux."

"I don't know, mate, I think the karaoke might be the way to go," said Spike.

"Is it really that bad?" Ginny asked Angel.

"I don't sing."

"Oh, it is," Spike said with an air of reminiscence. "We were in Paris this one time, must've been 1890 or so, and Angel got it in his head --"

"Spike."

"-- anyway, a policeman comes along --"

"Spike." Angel heaved a beleaguered sigh and looked at Wesley. "Can we get this back on topic, please?"

"Miss Granger said the Killing Curse is a Dark curse," Wesley said, peering at Lupin. "Do you have someone capable of performing it?"

"I can," Lupin said, looking rather grim. "You don't have to be evil to be able to kill."

Wesley looked at his desk. Hermione shifted in her seat. She had tried, once, to cast Avada Kedavra. It had been on her first raid after Ron's murder; Amycus Carrow had cornered her and taunted her, crudely, about Ron. In rage and sorrow, she'd tried to cast the Killing Curse, but it had failed in a shower of green sparks. Eventually, she'd escaped from Carrow by kneeing him in the groin and fleeing while he was doubled over.

She hadn't tried to cast Avada Kedavra since. Harry had told her, when she told him about the experience, that Bellatrix Lestrange had once told him that you had to mean the Dark curses in order to cast them. It had made her shiver then -- and still did now -- thinking of exactly how one would have to feel to mean to cast a Dark curse. The months after Ron died had been the worst of her life, and yet even that wasn't enough to fuel a Killing Curse.

"Are we sure it's wise, though?" she asked, shaking herself out of memory. "I mean, surely it can't be as easy as that, Avada Kedavra and you're done. Professor Dumbledore nearly lost a hand trying to destroy that ring. If it'd just been a matter of casting a Killing Curse at it, I don't think he would have had all that trouble."

Remus shared a frown with Wesley. "It's certainly worth a try, going with what we have."

"There are more scrolls in the vault that I haven't touched yet," said Wesley. "I suppose I can continue to research while you test the theory."

"Do you have someplace we can set up to try destroying the Horcruxes we have?"

Wesley glanced at Angel, who said, "There's a training room on the third floor. Er -- second floor, over here. Contained space, observation booth."

Remus stood; sensing the meeting was over, so did Hermione. He turned to address both her and Ginny. "Would either of you Apparate back to Newcastle and bring back the Horcruxes?"

"I'll do it," Ginny said.

"Ravenclaw's brooch is in my valise," said Hermione.

"I'll be right back." Ginny spun and disappeared with a pop.

Angel said, "I'll go ahead and open up the room," and departed. Spike trailed after him.

Hermione frowned and wrung her hands, chewing on her lip. She couldn't deny that the idea of killing the Horcruxes had a certain elegance to it -- plus there was certainly evidence to support it; the basilisk that had Petrified her had nearly killed Harry before he used it to destroy Voldemort's school diary. One instance does not a theory make, though, she thought.

Remus gave her a questioning look. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm usually the one to ask you that."

"Hermione."

"It's too easy!" she said. "All of this has been too simple. That diary nearly killed Ginny at Hogwarts, Harry and Professor Dumbledore were nearly killed by Inferi trying to find that fake locket, and all we met at Monkton Farleigh was a junior Death Eater and a decoy --"

"-- Which almost killed Miss Weasley," Wesley interrupted. "And Angel fought several Death Eaters that the rest of us didn't."

"It's just that if beating Voldemort is so easy --"

"Then why haven't we done it before?" finished Lupin.

"Exactly."

"I don't really know what to tell you, Hermione. I think you're making an unfair comparison. After Voldemort moved the Horcruxes in 1998, all our intelligence on their locations was useless. This is the first time in six years that we've even had an inkling of their location. You're conflating the progress of our search with the progress of the overall war, and they're not two things that can be compared.

"Bear in mind, also," Remus continued, "that Wesley has access to materials I'd never even heard of -- nor had you, either, I don't think, or you would already have known all this. Voldemort knows I'm no Albus Dumbledore -- I don't think he expected anyone else to stumble upon how to destroy a Horcrux, after that information died with Albus."

"Voldemort is a fool," said Illyria, and Hermione jumped.

"I wondered if you were going to contribute something," Wesley muttered.

"He is a child, borrowing the power of others far greater than he and believing himself mighty. A tinpot dictator on a throne of dust."

Remus tilted his head. "It's an accurate description, actually."

With a pop, Ginny reappeared in Wesley's office. "I have them," she said, holding up the jewelry bag that contained Slytherin's locket.

"The practice room is this way," Wesley said. "Excuse me." He led the four of them out of his office and over to the lift. Hermione fidgeted slightly as the lift climbed to the second floor and Wesley led them into the corridors of the upper part of the Wolfram & Hart building. "It's here," he said, stopping in front of a set of double doors.

The doors swung open and Angel stepped out. "You ready?" he asked.

Ginny again hefted the jewelry bag before handing it to Remus. She dug in the pocket of her denims briefly, pulling out Ravenclaw's brooch and handing it to him also. "I'm ready," Lupin said.

"Good." Angel escorted them into the training room, a large room with padded walls. Hermione surveyed the neat racks of weaponry (bearing mostly quarterstaves, although there were a few axes) and wondered again what sort of law firm needed an exercise room with weapons.

"Observation room's this way," Angel continued, and led them through another door into a glassed-in room that adjoined the training room. Spike was there, leaning against the glass wall that looked into the training room and looking utterly bored. Ginny, Hermione, Wesley and Illyria filed into the observation room and Angel let the door swing shut behind them. He pressed his palm against a button on the wall and said, "Whenever you're ready."

Remus pursed his lips and rubbed his forehead before nodding and striding across the room. Carefully, he placed Ravenclaw's brooch on the floor, as far away from the observation window as possible, and with measured steps he walked back to his original position. He breathed in, once, twice, and seemed to be focusing on something within himself.

Ginny came around to stand on Hermione's left, before the window. "I don't want to watch this," Hermione muttered. She had known, in detached intellectual fashion, that Lupin was capable of great violence and anger ever since her third year and that terrifying night in the Shrieking Shack. Sirius had blustered and screamed; Snape had seethed and raged; but Lupin had calmly and rationally informed a friend that he intended to kill him, his anger all the more frightening for being so casually expressed. That didn't change the fact that it was still disquieting to see her quiet and kind mentor do things like coolly torture a Death Eater for information or perform the Killing Curse. Knowing didn't always mean accepting.

Ginny nodded sympathetically, reaching over to take Hermione's hand.

In the practice room, Lupin opened his eyes. Grimacing, he flung out his wand hand, pointing at the small bronze brooch and crying, "Avada Kedavra!"

Hermione saw the green light from the curse streak across the training room before the brooch exploded in a blinding flash of white light that struck her like a bomb detonation. She blinked repeatedly, trying to clear her vision, and after a few seconds the retinal ghosts faded and jittered out of the way.

Beside her in the observation room, Ginny blinked and rubbed her eyes. In the training room, Remus looked slightly stunned, shaking his head experimentally. "Did it work?" he said loudly. "Hermione?" He paused. "Oh dear."

"Something's gone wrong," said Angel, and he launched himself out the observation room door. Hermione felt a cold lump of worry coalesce in her stomach as she followed him out the door, Ginny trailing after. She, Ginny, Angel and Wesley clustered around Remus, who was blinking and frowning.

"Hermione?" Lupin asked. She reached out to him, resting a hand on his sleeve, and he nodded. "The backlash from that Horcrux appears to have affected my sight and hearing," he said, still too loudly. "Perhaps you should take me to see Poppy?"

"That may not be necessary," Wesley said from Hermione's right, aiming a look at Angel over her head. "We may be able to treat him here."

Angel nodded. "I'll see if there's anyone available." He barrelled out the doors of the practice room.

"What's he doing?" Ginny asked, sounding protective and just a bit suspicious.

"Wolfram & Hart has a laboratory on site," said Wesley. "We may be able to examine him there. We're already here, after all."

"Hermione?" Remus said, more quietly than before. She took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and he turned toward her.

"Is it wearing off?" she asked. He didn't respond, nor did his eyes follow when she raised a hand and waved it experimentally. She sighed. "I suppose not."

"What does a law firm need with a laboratory?" Ginny asked Wesley.

"Research," he answered, looking somewhat dissatisfied with the answer. "Client support. Mystical analysis. We're hardly your conventional law firm, you realize."

"I'd gathered, thanks," muttered Ginny.

"It was," Wesley said, his face clouding over and then closing as it had the first time Hermione met him, "a lure." His tone slammed a door on further discussion of the subject.

"Once for yes, twice for no," said Remus. "Are we going to see Poppy?"

Understanding what he meant, she squeezed his hand twice: no.

He looked bewildered, the expression soon giving way to resignation. "I trust you, Hermione. If there's a reason we're not going to Poppy, it must be a good one."

She squeezed his hand once, telling him yes, and then shared a worried look with Ginny. "He'll be all right," Ginny said in response.

"I suppose."

"Well, on the bright side," Spike said from the door to the observation room, "looks like it worked." He picked up Ravenclaw's brooch and brought it over to Hermione. "Certainly looks dead to me. How about that."

Hermione studied the little bronze brooch on Spike's open palm. The six small sapphires that had studded its surface were all cracked, the eagle raised on its surface was warped and twisted, and the metal of the brooch had turned black. Spike was right: if it was possible for a piece of jewelry to look dead, Ravenclaw's brooch was managing it. "He did it," she said.

The double doors to the training room swung open and Angel leaned in. Hermione slipped the destroyed Horcrux into the pocket of her khakis. "Dr. Jones said she'd meet us in the lab," he said. "Come on."

"Who's Dr. Jones?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Angel said, leading them back down the hall to the lift, Remus trailing carefully behind Hermione. "Emily called her, said she'd come in for us."

"Oh, well, that's certainly convenient," said Spike. "Who's Emily?"

"She's the receptionist."

"And she's Emily already. Sounds like you're getting on well, it does. I'm telling Nina. She'll be jealous."

"She's the receptionist, Spike, her name's engraved on a nameplate on the front desk, that's how I know it. There's nothing -- would you stop smiling at me like that!"

"Emily," Spike said again, as if relishing the effect it had on Angel, and they all piled into the lift together. They descended a floor in silence and Angel led them around a corner to a small -- but clearly functional -- lab.

Hermione looked around, frowning. The lab, all sterile white and sleek computers, clearly saw active use; she saw folders spread across a worktable and a small centrifuge stood open beside them. She still wasn't sure why a law firm needed a lab, despite Wesley's explanation. He had been rather vague. She led Remus to lean against one of the worktables in the middle of the room and reflected that she and Angel were going to have to have a talk, eventually.

The six of them settled themselves uncomfortably into the lab, while Illyria wandered off into a small office adjoining the lab. Angel crossed his arms against his chest and scowled; Spike wandered the lab, idly playing with equipment. Wesley, looking concerned, watched the door, occasionally glancing over to Illyria in the office. Hermione chewed her lip, frowning at Remus, who looked placidly confused, and muttered, "This isn't right."

Ginny, on his other side, gave her a questioning look. "Have you an idea?"

"He can't have lost all his senses, or he wouldn't have responded when I squeezed his hand. There's got to be a way to tell him what's going on." She let go of his right hand, turning it so that his opened palm faced up, and started drawing letters on it. Remus?

"Tickles a bit, that," he said. "Yes?"

She thought for a moment about how to say what she wanted in the shortest amount of space. One of their doctors will look at you.

"Wolfram and Hart?"

Hermione drew a letter y on his palm, then added, Wesley's idea.

"It makes sense," said Remus. "You know I trust you, Hermione."

She started to spell something on his hand, but was startled by the sound of the laboratory doors opening. "You're the group from America?" said a dark-haired woman carrying a satchel.

Angel uncrossed his arms and stood up straight. "We are. I'm Angel." He offered her a hand.

She shook hands with him. "A pleasure to meet you. I'm Dr. Jones. Emily said you had a patient you wanted me to see?"

"Ah, yes," Wesley said, gesturing to Remus. "This is Remus Lupin. He was -- how much do you know about magic?"

Dr. Jones gave him a sharp look. "I assume you don't mean the kind we practice here at Wolfram & Hart."

"No," Hermione said. "How much do you know about the wizarding world?"

"I know it exists. One of my cousins is a witch." Jones looked at Hermione with a touch of condescending amusement. "One must know things to work at Wolfram & Hart."

"He was attempting to destroy a Horcrux," Hermione said, keeping her annoyance at the woman's attitude to herself. "He cast the Killing Curse at the Horcrux, but when the Horcrux detonated it rebounded at him. He can't hear or see, either one."

"Hmm," said Dr. Jones, but she looked interested. She thumped her satchel on the table next to Remus and started digging through it. Hermione squeezed his hand three times and stepped away, giving the doctor room to work.

Jones pulled a stethoscope out of the bag, followed by an enormous pink crystal. With one hand, she pressed the stethoscope to Remus's heart, while passing the crystal over his arms, chest, and head with the other hand. "Interesting," she muttered, and repositioned the stethoscope.

"This would be the doctor?" Remus asked. Ginny, on his other side, took his hand and squeezed it once. He nodded once and seemed to accept what little explanation he could be given.

After a few tense moments of examination, punctuated by further mutterings to herself, Dr. Jones nodded and pulled the stethoscope out of her ears. "Spellshock," she said authoritatively. "I see it all the time in our shamans and warlocks. Doesn't look like it'll be permanent." She rummaged in her satchel for a moment, producing a packet of herbs. "Burn these, have him inhale the smoke, and then send him up for a good lie-down. He ought to be better in the morning. Now I," she said, snapping her bag shut, "am off for a lie-down myself. Good night." She let herself out of the lab.

Hermione let out a breath. "Oh, thank goodness."

"I told you so," said Ginny, but she looked every bit as relieved as Hermione.

Wesley picked up the packet of herbs and examined it for a second. Looking up, he said, "Well, there's certainly no need to take him back to Newcastle. We've guest rooms here at Wolfram & Hart -- I'm sure it won't be a problem if he uses one for the night."

"Wes, you get them settled in. I'll be around if anyone needs me." Angel headed for the doors.

"Wait!" said Hermione.

Angel turned.

"Could we talk at some point?" She frowned. "I've some questions I wanted to ask you."

"Sure. Tomorrow."

"All right. Tomorrow morning."

Angel nodded and then left the lab.

"Probably just going to go brood," said Spike. "He's overdue for one. Gets cranky if he can't spend at least four hours a day brooding. 'So tough being a hideous poof. Woe is me.'"

"Spike," said Wesley mildly. "Come on. Let's settle you three in."

Hermione tucked the packet of herbs into her pocket, took Remus's hand, and followed Wesley out the door.

***

Wesley showed them to a suite on the eighth floor of the Wolfram & Hart building. "Two bedrooms," he said, standing in the small sitting area and gesturing at closed doors. "Toilet through there. No kitchen, but the canteen opens at seven, which is --" he checked his watch -- "nine hours from now."

"Thank you," Hermione said.

"Ring me if you need anything. The operator will connect you." Wesley stepped out of their suite, closing the door behind him.

Ginny gave Hermione a perturbed look. "Now what?"

"Tea," Hermione said, pulling out her wand. She and Ginny worked their way through the suite, methodically warding the doors, the enormous plate-glass windows that made up one wall of the bedrooms, and lastly placing a Trip Jinx on the main entry in what even Hermione was willing to admit was paranoia.

"We'll have to remember to remove that," she said. "But I feel safer now."

"I have to say, I'd be interested to see who would win in a fight, Wolfram & Hart or the Death Eaters," said Ginny. "What is this place?"

Hermione heaved a breath. "I don't know. The more I see, the less I like -- but Remus was right, they have been a help."

"Shamans. Warlocks. Weapons," Ginny said darkly. "Something strange is going on here."

"Hamlet said the same thing," Hermione twirled a lock of hair around a finger and looked at Remus, who had managed to settle onto a sofa in the sitting area. "I'll tell him what Dr. Jones said."

"All right by me," said Ginny. "I'm going to have a look round this suite. Bit posh, isn't it?"

"It is at that," agreed Hermione. As Ginny started opening doors and prowling around, she sat down on the sofa next to Remus and took his hand again. Slowly, she started spelling words on his palm, explaining what Dr. Jones had said and telling him about her diagnosis of spellshock.

"It makes sense," he said with a shrug and a nod. "The backlash off that spell was -- well, look at me."

Hermione wrote, She gave us some herbs that should treat the condition. You have to breathe in the smoke.

Remus looked resigned. "I suppose the headache tomorrow will be quite worth it. I don't fancy remaining like this forever."

"Oi!" Ginny's voice sounded from the small loo. "They've given us shampoo, conditioner, soap, and hand lotion. Swank." She appeared in the door of the toilet, holding a small bottle. She opened the bottle and sniffed its contents, making a face. "You mean Muggles like having their hair smell like this?"

"Some of them do."

"I think I'll stick with a Hair-Cleaning Charm. It doesn't make your hair as nice as Sleekeasy's does, but it doesn't smell like that. Bleh."

"What else have you found?"

Ginny pointed. "There's two singles in the left-hand bedroom, and a double bed in the right-hand one. The right-hand one's got a little en-suite also. This certainly beats staying at the Leaky Cauldron."

Staying at the Shrieking Shack beats staying at the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione thought, but she didn't say it. Instead, she said, "It's late. We should burn those herbs for Remus and then turn in."

"All right," said Ginny, giving Hermione a concerned look. "Dibs on the bed by the window."

"That's fine, I suppose," Hermione said, rising to her feet and pulling Remus along with her. "I'll just be a few."

Ginny nodded and stepped back into the loo, closing the door behind her. Hermione led Remus into the right-hand bedroom and managed to, through a combination of writing on his palm and some gentle pushing, settle him comfortably on the bed. She pulled the packet of herbs from her pocket and dumped them onto the nightstand beside the bed. Pulling out her wand, she aimed it at the herbs and said, "Flagro!"

A jet of flame shot out of her wand, lighting the herbs, which began to burn and smoulder. She'd have to keep an eye on the fire, just for safety's sake, but Flagro was designed to allow a witch or wizard to burn a specific object without burning the house down alongside it (which Incendio was prone to do, if cast without proper care.) Remus took a deep breath and coughed, and she patted his hand.

I'll be outside if you need me, she spelled.

"All right," he said. "Thank you, Hermione."

She squeezed his hand three times and walked back out to the sitting room.

Ginny opened the door of the loo and then started to perform a string of Tooth-Cleaning Charms, spitting into the sink after each one. "He'll be all right, you know."

"Yes," said Hermione.

Nodding, Ginny put her wand away and headed for the left-hand bedroom. "Good night, Hermione," she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.

"Good night," Hermione echoed. She settled herself on a sofa where she could see the little fire burning in Remus's room, watching it and waiting for it to burn out.

***

"Good morning, Hermione."

Hermione jerked awake, realizing first, that sunlight was streaming into the guest suite; second, that she had fallen asleep sitting up on the sofa; and third, that Remus was standing in front of her and smiling at her.

"Bleaugh," she said, and then her brain cleared and she said, more coherently, "Remus! Oh goodness."

He gave her a gently amused look, sitting down beside her. "Despite Voldemort's best efforts, I remain healthy and in one piece. Whatever that doctor prescribed, it appears to have worked."

"I suppose that's better than the alternative." She hovered between relief and exasperation, and finally settled on exasperation. "I was really worried! You gave us quite a turn. What if Dr. Jones hadn't been able to do anything?"

"Then we would have gone to Poppy. I wouldn't be the first wizard with spell damage like that she's seen. I'm all right, though, Hermione, although it does look as though you were right to be worried that our proposed solution was too simple. It may need some refinement for the next Horcrux."

"Well, you were right," she said, digging the destroyed Horcrux out of her pocket and handing it to Lupin. "It worked." She shook her head sadly. "A piece of wizarding history -- lost."

"It's Lord Voldemort for you," he said. "This was never of worth to him because of its beauty or its history. He wanted it because of the power it represented. It gave him a connection to Hogwarts and the Founders. There have been very few wizards or witches as strong as the Founders both before them and since then."

The door to the left-hand bedroom opened, and Ginny stepped out, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "I thought I heard you two out here. It's nine in the morning, according to the clock in there. Some people might still be sleeping at that time."

"Good morning, Ginny," said Remus.

"It's lucky you woke me up, anyway," said Hermione. "I told Angel that I wanted to have a talk with him this morning."

"What about?" Remus looked at her sharply.

"Wolfram & Hart. Despite what Angel has said, they're clearly not just a law firm, and I want to know what they really are. I don't understand them, and I don't like that I don't understand them."

Lupin nodded. "I see what you mean."

"I mean," Hermione continued, "research labs. Training rooms. Weapons --"

"Shamans. Warlocks," Ginny added, scowling.

"Magic," Hermione finished. "How many ordinary law firms are run by a vampire? It doesn't make sense."

"Actually, I know of a law firm up in Manchester that's run by a vampire," said Remus, "but I understand your meaning. It is all very unusual." He frowned and then smiled slightly. "How about we discuss it over breakfast?"

***

A call to Wesley produced directions to the Wolfram & Hart canteen, and a further call to Angel produced an assurance that he would meet them there for breakfast -- "what breakfast you're likely to get in the canteen," he said, with a grim chuckle. The three of them did what they could to clean up and straighten their rumpled clothing, then Hermione led the way out the door of their suite --

-- falling onto her face in the hall as she went through the door. "Bollocks," she said, annoyance provoking an oath from her.

"I'll just remove that Trip Jinx from the door, shall I?" Ginny said as Hermione picked herself up off the ground.

"It's not funny," Hermione said, very dignified.

Remus, looking as if he were trying very hard not to seem amused, said, "Of course it isn't. Lift's at the end of the hall, isn't it?"

They managed to arrive at the canteen with no further tripping incidents, although Hermione had given Ginny a very sour look after she had started giggling uncontrollably in the lift on the way down. Angel waited for them at a table in the middle of the room, nursing a mug of blood and brooding. He looked up as the three of them entered and said, "Breakfast is in the vending machines over there."

Ginny regarded the wall of machines dubiously. "I don't suppose they take Knuts and Sickles, do they? All I have on me."

"You don't carry regular money?"

"Muggle money? Why should I?"

"Hmph. Well," Angel said, standing up. He walked over to the row of machines and typed in a code on the keypad of the coffee machine. It beeped three times and he nodded. "One of the perks of being president of the Los Angeles branch. Free access to the vending machines."

A few minutes later, they were seated at Angel's table, arranging their breakfasts before them. Hermione had Transfigured some Pop-Tarts into a croissant, although she couldn't do anything to improve the nearly undrinkable coffee. Remus absently stirred sugar into a cup of tea, while Ginny had gone the opposite route and was working her way through a Mars bar and a fizzy drink.

"I have never," said Ginny, "seen a blood dispensing machine before."

Angel shrugged. "Spike and I aren't the only vampires that work for Wolfram & Hart."

"About that," said Hermione, and she took a deep breath. "Angel, what is this place? Please don't tell me it's a law firm. No law firm needs a library with mystical tomes. Or a laboratory. Or weapons. My uncle is a solicitor, and he certainly doesn't have shamans and warlocks working for him. What is going on here?"

Angel stared into his mug of blood for a few moments before he said, "This is a law firm, Hermione. Lawyers, trials, cases, all of that."

"I don't believe that," said Ginny sharply.

Angel's eyes flicked up to meet her hard stare, and he nodded slightly. "It's an evil law firm, Wolfram & Hart, always has been. They've specialized in taking the cases no other law firm would touch. Too decent. Demons. Murderers. If you've got the money and no hint of a soul, Wolfram & Hart was happy to represent you."

"But then what are you doing here?" Hermione asked. "You and Spike and Wesley. You're helping us, you're doing good. How does that fit with what you described?"

Angel resettled himself in his chair and seemed to be thinking about what to say. After a minute, he said, "I was running a freelance detective agency in Los Angeles. Spent half my time putting out fires that Wolfram & Hart started. Last year -- we thought it was the Apocalypse. It might have been. Goddess with big plans started going after Wolfram & Hart. She managed to kill most of the staff of the Los Angeles branch before we stopped her. So, in gratitude --" Angel hunched his shoulders slightly -- "we were asked to take over."

Hermione considered this for a moment. "And you said yes?"

"I had to," Angel said flatly. "We had to."

"Why?"

"Because one of the things we learned is that it takes resources to fight. You can't fight effectively if you can't match your opponents on their turf. Wolfram & Hart offered us the resources. We took them."

Hermione exchanged a look with Remus. His grave expression said that he found this about as plausible as she did, but it wasn't worth pushing the point; whatever the real reason was, Angel was clearly not about to share it with them. Let him have his secrets, she thought. We certainly have ours.

Lupin stared thoughtfully into his cup of tea, swirling it around and watching the liquid whirl. "So the lab, and the library --"

"-- and the mystical army," interjected Ginny, shredding the wrapper of her Mars bar.

"-- it's all for the benefit of your clients?"

Angel spread his arms in a sardonic gesture. "What our clients want, we give them." His expression turned sour.

Hermione sipped at her coffee, made a face, and kept thinking. "But if you're good," she said, and paused, finishing her thought. "Your clients are evil. So why do you give them what they want?"

Angel shifted in his seat. "We do the good we can where we can do it. Like this. Otherwise . . . well, we're still a business. No cash flow . . ."

"Right. I understand."

"I said once," Angel said, standing, "that nothing we do matters. But -- if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do. I got things to do. I'll see you later." He swept out of the canteen in a swirl of black coat and grumpy temper.

Ginny blinked after him. "That thing with the coat, that's impressive, that is."

Hermione picked at her croissant, which still tasted faintly of Pop-Tart, and mused, "I still don't like it."

"Nor do I, Hermione," said Lupin. "But they're willing to help and they've been producing results. I'm certainly not going to refuse Angel's help because he's president of an evil law firm. In times like these, one does what one must."

The three of them sat in silence in the canteen, interrupted only when a young woman in a business suit entered and started dropping coins into the coffee machine. "We still have to work on that other Horcrux," Hermione said.

Ginny made a face. "Can it wait? I'd like to go back to Newcastle and freshen up. I hate sleeping in my clothes. I feel all grotty."

"I don't see why not," said Remus. "We know how to destroy the locket."

"We have a working hypothesis," Hermione muttered.

"It's certainly enough to be going on for right now. All right, Hermione? Back to Newcastle?"

"Yes," she said. She too was looking forward to a change of clothes.

"Let's go, then," said Remus, and he stood up from the table.

***

Hermione landed in the big farmhouse outside Newcastle to the accompaniment of her mobile ringing. "Excuse me," she said, dashing to the parlor and digging her mobile out of her purse. "Hello?"

"Hermione?" Arthur Weasley said, very loud, in her ear.

"Speaking."

"Hermione, it's Arthur. Can you hear me? I'm never quite sure how to use these fellytones . . ."

"It's all right, Mr. Weasley, I can hear you. What do you need?"

"I've been trying to call all morning."

Hermione winced. "I'm sorry, I've been away from my phone."

"No, no, it's all right, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley. "Don't feel bad. Is Ginny there with you?"

"Yes, she is," Hermione said, stepping to the entry to the parlor and waving to catch Ginny's attention. Ginny hurried over, standing next to Hermione, who tilted the phone away from her ear so Ginny could listen in.

"Oh, good. Ginny? Are you there? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, Dad, I'm here," said Ginny.

"Oh, Ginny," Arthur Weasley said, sounding beyond excited. "Your mother wanted me to call. Fleur's had the baby! You're now Aunt Ginny -- and you too, Hermione," he added, "you're as good as her Aunt Hermione also."

"Oh, congratulations," Hermione said. "How exciting."

"It's a girl?" Ginny asked.

"She is," said Mr. Weasley. "They've named her Madeleine Aurélie -- after Fleur's mother, you know -- but George is already calling her Maddy; it's driving Fleur mad. Well --" he chuckled. "You know how she is."

"I do," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"Molly wants you to come see Fleur and the baby this afternoon. She said to tell you, 'I don't care if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself is after them, she can come see her new niece.'"

"Sounds just like Mum," Ginny said with a sigh.

"I hear you sighing, Ginny, but Bill is your brother and Fleur is your sister and you owe it to them both to come visit. I know how you feel about her, but you're still family," Arthur said, with just a touch of chiding in his tone.

"We'll be there this afternoon, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione. "Is it all right if Remus comes with us?"

"Oh, certainly. The more, the merrier. Molly will be happy to cook for you all."

"All right. Take care, Mr. Weasley."

"You too, Hermione. See you this afternoon, Ginny."

"That was Arthur Weasley," Hermione said, hanging up.

"I had gathered," Remus said, standing in the entryway of the parlor. "Fleur has had the baby, and Molly wants us to go see her."

"A girl," Ginny said with some relief. "Finally, I'm not the only one."

"Was it really that bad?" asked Hermione.

"Well, no," said Ginny, "it wasn't that bad with my brothers. But I've got seven cousins, all boys, and about thirty second cousins, and they were all boys too. Family reunions were a nightmare growing up. All my aunties fussing over me all the time. And all I ever wanted to do was play Quidditch with the boys." Ginny looked satisfied. "They can fuss over Maddy instead. It'll make Fleur happy."

"That," said Remus dryly, "it will."

***

An hour later they were back at the London office, standing over Slytherin's locket in the training room. Lupin stared mildly down at the locket, obviously controlling the discomfort he felt from being around it. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, feeling uneasy about the whole situation after the disaster that had resulted last time, while Ginny gave the locket the same hard look she gave to anything she regarded as a challenge.

"Let's start," Lupin said, looking up at Hermione and Ginny. Hermione gladly retreated to the observation room, Ginny in tow, happy to be away from the locket. Whatever Slytherin had done to the locket when he crafted it, it felt strange to be around.

"I've a bad feeling about this," she muttered to Ginny, once they were in the observation room with the doors closed beside them. Ginny glanced over at her, her expression tight, and nodded.

In the training room, Lupin again deliberately paced off the steps separating him from the Horcrux, again paused and breathed in. As his focus turned inward, Hermione felt Ginny's hand slipping into hers, the gesture communicating both support and the fact that Ginny was also uncomfortable.

Lupin pulled out his wand, leveling it at the Horcrux. His aim steady, and with just the barest scowl on his face, he said, "Avada Kedavra!"

Green light raced from his wand across the training room. Slytherin's locket was surrounded by a bright viridian glow for a few seconds -- but the light faded, leaving the locket intact and unscathed on the ground. "I don't understand," Hermione said, frowning. In the practice room, Lupin turned to her with a puzzled look on his face.

Across the room, the locket started to whistle -- and then to vibrate, and then to glow, shining an eye-searingly bright green. "Remus!" Hermione cried, fumbling for the button on the wall that controlled the intercom. "Remus, look out!"

Lupin dove to the ground, shouting a series of shield spells. Hermione, remembering what had happened the last time they tried to destroy a Horcrux, screwed her eyes shut and stuffed her fingers into her ears. Beside her, she heard Ginny muttering, "Orbis praesidis. Orbis praesidis."

With a crack like a gunshot, the Horcrux detonated. Light pierced Hermione's eyelids. She tried to close her eyes tighter and found that she couldn't. Ginny swayed on her feet, her shoulder brushing Hermione's elbow.

"Ugh," Ginny said as the light faded. "You can open your eyes now, Hermione. I'm going to have a headache for days."

Hermione opened her eyes and pulled her fingers out of her ears, shaking her head slightly. Ginny was right: her head throbbed with a dull ache that was probably going to resist pain potions. "Orbis praesidis?" she asked.

Ginny shrugged. "It was the first one that came to me. Mum taught it to me when I was small."

Nodding slightly, Hermione leaned closer to the glass, looking into the training room. "Oh, no," she said, and she barged through the door into the practice room. Lupin was slumped in an untidy heap on the ground, looking as if he'd been dropped there. Worried, she grumbled, "I knew this was a bad idea."

Ginny hastened out the door of the observation room, kneeling beside Hermione next to Lupin's body. "He's alive," Ginny said, checking his pulse and resting a hand on his chest. "Probably just knocked out."

"He can't be knocked out. We have to go visit your niece this afternoon."

Ginny snorted. "I doubt Maddy is going anywhere soon, Hermione. Fleur's probably enjoying the attention too much."

Hermione scowled, pulled out her wand, pointed it at Remus, and said, "Rennervate! Oh, bother. Experrectus!"

With a groan, Remus jerked awake. "That," he said after a moment, "was not supposed to happen."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the locket, which lay innocently on the floor of the practice room, intact and undamaged. "It didn't even work."

"Help me up?" he asked. Hermione and Ginny rose to their feet, each grabbing one of Remus's hands and pulling him with them. He brushed at his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles, and gave the locket a perturbed look. "It appears our hypothesis no longer works."

***

Wesley greeted the news that their plan had failed rather philosophically. "It was," he said, "only a theory. There are still other materials I can research. I'll start on that this evening."

With no further business at the Wolfram & Hart office, they were free to Apparate out to the Burrow to see Fleur and the baby. After a quick side trip to Whimsic Alley -- the Birmingham wizarding district -- for some baby gifts, they traveled to Devon, Ginny grumbling about doing so. As they were walking up the long lane to the Burrow, Ginny said, "It's not that I don't want to see Maddy. I'm new to this auntie thing but I rather like it so far. It's just -- Fleur. We've never really got on."

"Fleur takes some getting used to," Hermione said diplomatically. "The last time I met her, she seemed to have mellowed out quite a bit."

"Well, you're not related to her," said Ginny. "Do you know what she gave me for Christmas last year? A hot pink chenille jumper. It was fuzzy. And four sizes too big." She looked revolted. "Bill told me while we were doing the washing up after dinner that the first he saw of it was when I unwrapped it. He slipped me ten Galleons so I could buy something decent at Madam Malkin's."

"What'd you do with the jumper?"

Ginny snorted and looked pleased with herself. "Transfigured it into a potted plant and gave it to her for her birthday."

Hermione giggled. Remus, on her other side, chuckled quietly. The three of them worked their way through the front garden of the Burrow, dodging chickens, wellies and nastily cackling gnomes, until they stood before the front door. "Everyone ready?" Remus asked, one eyebrow impishly arched.

Tugging at her jumper, Hermione nodded, and Ginny said, "As I'll ever be."

"Here we go, then," said Remus, and he knocked on the door. A few seconds later, it was opened by Bill Weasley himself, who looked both exhausted and if he'd taken several doses of Pepper-Up Potion followed by a bag of Fizzing Whizbees.

Bill beamed at them, scars crinkling on his face, and said gleefully, "She's here!"

"So we've heard," said Remus.

Opening the door wider, Bill said, "Come in! Mum'll be happy to see you -- she baked about twelve loaves of bread last night while we were waiting and now she says they've got to go somewhere."

Hermione followed Remus in the door, Ginny behind her. As she stepped in, out of the corner of her eye she saw Ginny briefly mime lifting up her skirts as if preparing for a formal curtsey and had to suppress snickers.

Inside the Burrow, things were unusually quiet. A strong smell of bread hung in the air. Arthur Weasley sat by the Wizarding Wireless, peeling a satsuma and frowning intently at the speaker. He looked up briefly, smiling at them, and then went back to listening. Charlie and George played a subdued game of Exploding Snap; both of them waved carefully hello, not wanting to disturb the cards. "Fleur and Maddy are asleep," Bill said, as if answering an unasked question.

"Bill?" Molly Weasley's voice floated out from the kitchen. "Who is it?"

"Remus, Mum," Bill said. "And he brought Hermione and Ginny with him."

"Oh . . . Ginny!" Molly stormed out of the kitchen, wearing an expression that told Hermione exactly why Ron often thought of his mother as a sabre-toothed tiger. Ginny froze, looking as if her imminent death was inevitable, and Hermione saw Charlie and Fred share an amused and sympathetic covert glance. Remus went to sit on the sofa, and Hermione followed him.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley said. "I've been so worried! All this bother with You-Know-Who and Death Eaters -- and you weren't at that raid, they said you'd been hurt --"

"Mum," said Ginny, "I spent two days in the Hogwarts infirmary. Madam Pomfrey fixed me up, like she always does. I'm fine."

Hermione frowned and made a note to herself to ask Ginny what exactly it was that had happened to her.

"You might have been killed."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I might have been killed every time I played Quidditch, but you never objected to that."

"Well, that was Quidditch -- but still, Ginny! You're my baby girl --"

"I'm twenty-two!"

"You will always be my baby girl, and if there's one thing a mother does, it's worry about her baby. Can't you be more careful out there, Ginny?"

Ginny looked down. "I'll try, Mum."

Molly Weasley surveyed her only daughter with a critical eye. "You don't look well. Are you eating right?" Without waiting for an answer, she added, "Well, come on then, have some bread. I've got plenty."

"Told you so," muttered Bill.

Stomach grumbling, Hermione remembered her less-than-satisfying breakfast and said, "I'll have some bread, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, Hermione." Molly gave her a kindly look. "You're welcome to it. You too, Remus, come on. Enough for everyone."

"Watch you," George whispered, once his mother was out of earshot. "She'll be sending it home with you next. You'll never be rid of it."

"Shut it," Ginny hissed back at him, and she followed Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen.

After a few minutes of bustle, Hermione, Ginny, Lupin and Bill ended up seated at the kitchen table, each with about half a loaf of bread stacked before them. Remus seemed more interested in stirring sugar into his cup of tea, while Ginny had toasted her bread in the Weasleys' ancient and dangerous toaster (it had a tendency to breathe fire) and was now slathering it with butter. Hermione spread a slice of her bread with currant jam and -- because she knew Ginny wouldn't -- said, "Tell us about Maddy."

Bill took a long drink from his cup of tea. "Well," he said, "Fleur and I were actually at dinner when the contractions started last night, so we finished up our meal and then came over here, like we'd worked out with Mum a few months ago. It took a while, but Maddy arrived safely around seven this morning. Seven pounds, nineteen inches, bald as a Bludger."

Hermione smiled. "She sounds adorable."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that yet," said Bill, with a mischievious look. "She's got a pair of lungs on her like her grandmother."

Ginny snorted into her pumpkin juice.

"William!" said his mother.

"Did you think I meant you, Mum?" Bill said, grinning. "I meant Fleur's mum, Madame Delacour. Maman can be heard for miles on a clear night."

"Oh, hush," Molly Weasley said, but her stern look melted into an affectionate smile. "I'm going to go check on my granddaughter now."

"I don't think Maddy really needs anything," said Bill after Mrs. Weasley had gone upstairs. "Mum just likes the phrase 'my granddaughter'."

"Too right she does," Charlie said from the other room. "She keeps asking me when I'm going to 'settle down and stop messing about with those dragons.' I've been getting letters since she found out Fleur was pregnant." Pitching his voice so it wouldn't carry, he said in a high voice, "'You're thirty-one years old, Charles Weasley, it won't kill you to take a responsible job and find a nice girlfriend --'"

"Your Mum impression needs work," said George.

"Like to see you do better."

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley. Not long after that, there was the sound of a muffled explosion and George's laughter.

"Did everything go all right?" Lupin asked, giving Bill a serious look.

"It did," said Bill. "Fleur and I had agreed to come here instead of St. Mungo's for the birth months ago. Mum's a midwife and Fleur hates hospitals, so it was easy to talk her into it."

"Plus St. Mungo's is stuffed full of Death Eaters," Ginny said darkly.

"I don't think they would have given us too much trouble," said Bill, shrugging. "Voldemort knows I'm a muckety-muck at Gringotts, and he needs the goblins' cooperation or he's got no funding. It might have been a problem getting you three in the door, though, since I think the Death Eaters have orders to shoot you on sight."

Ginny made a sarcastically self-congratulating gesture.

"Anyway, we're safe enough here," Bill said. "The house is warded and all of us are good with a wand. If Voldemort did show up, I doubt he'd make it past Mum anyway."

Hermione heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to look at the door. Molly Weasley came through, carrying a small blanket-wrapped bundle and cooing, "And who's this? Oh, here's Daddy, and your Aunt Ginny and Aunt Hermione, and Mr. Lupin. We'll just say hello to your Aunt Ginny, won't we, Maddy? Yes, we will, but only for a bit. Here you go, Ginny. Hold your arms out." Molly had worked her way around the table and now stood next to Ginny, who extended her arms after a moment of looking alarmed. Mrs. Weasley carefully settled the baby into Ginny's arms, adjusting Maddy's blanket. Maddy, for her part, turned her head and wriggled a bit.

"Careful, Ginny," Bill said, smiling at her. "That's my daughter you've got there. Don't drop her."

Ginny shot him an exasperated and amused glance. "Thanks, Bill. I grew out of the klutzy stage years ago." She bobbled the baby gently, turning her so Hermione could see. Maddy opened her eyes, giving Hermione a solemn stare before yawning widely.

"She's adorable," said Hermione, who privately thought that Maddy looked rather like every other newborn she'd ever seen, but recognized that this was not something one said to a new father.

"She has the Weasley nose, though," Arthur Weasley said, coming into the kitchen. "I've learned to recognize it on a baby."

"Fleur is aghast," said Bill. "She'd been hoping to pass on the Delacour nose. According to her, her nose is elegant. Mine is just long." He smiled. "Maddy has Fleur's eyes, though."

"There's nothing wrong with the Weasley nose," said Arthur. "It's a fine and proud nose."

"It's also," said Ginny, "long." Maddy waved an arm, fussing slightly, and Ginny turned to her mother. "Here, Mum. You hold her for a bit."

"I'll hold her," said Bill. "She might be a little hungry. I'll take her up to Fleur in a titch." Molly carried the baby around to him and he settled Maddy into the crook of an arm.

"Look at you," Ginny said, her tone both teasing and admiring. "You almost look like you know what you're doing."

"You forget, little sister, that I was ten years old when you were born," Bill said, arching an eyebrow at Ginny. "Old enough to change your diapers. Which I did." He gave Ginny a significant look, and then turned to his father. "How'd the game go?"

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Well, Chudley tried, they did, but --"

"Lost again, huh, Dad?" Charlie said from the other room.

"Flattened," Arthur said sadly. "420 to 10, and that one was a fluke. The Keeper sneezed as Stevens made the throw."

"You really ought to try supporting a team that isn't total rubbish," said Charlie.

"Charlie supports the Tornadoes," Ginny muttered to Hermione. "They'll argue about this for hours now."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She'd never been able to cultivate a taste for Quidditch, despite being friends with half the Gryffindor Quidditch team at Hogwarts. She warmed up her mug of coffee with a quick tap of her wand and settled in for a long and boring argument.

***

Much later, the three of them left the Burrow, each loaded down with a loaf of Molly Weasley's bread. Fleur had woken not long after the argument over Quidditch had erupted, and after she was finished nursing Maddy, Hermione, Remus and Ginny had presented her with their gifts for Maddy. (Hermione's was a baby blanket charmed always to keep the baby at the most comfortable temperature.) Molly had then insisted that they stay for dinner -- Hermione, thinking of the dismal Wolfram & Hart canteen, was happy to agree.

Remus stopped at the gate to the front garden, which marked the boundary of the Anti-Apparation wards, and said thoughtfully, "We'll have to tell Percy."

"I'm supposed to meet with him tomorrow," Ginny said. "Preparation for the Fidelius. I'll tell him then." She shook her head. "This has been quite a weekend for new family members. A sister-in-law and a nephew on Saturday, and now a niece today. I half-expect Mum to sit me down and tell me I've some sister or brother I never knew about next."

"Not a conversation I would ever want to take part in." Lupin opened the gate. "Back to London." He stepped through the gate, spun, and disappeared. Hermione took five steps beyond the edge of the ward -- elementary Apparition safety -- and then started the turn . . .

She reappeared in the Wolfram & Hart lobby, shortly followed by Ginny. Wesley, walking by with an armful of books, jumped. "Useful, if startling," he said. "It's not the sudden appearance that bothers me. It's the noise."

Hermione shrugged apologetically. "It can't be helped. Have you found anything?"

"I'll let you know when I do," Wesley said crisply, and he vanished into his office.

"Are we staying here again?" Ginny asked, lowering her voice.

Remus turned. "I thought we might. It's certainly convenient, and the rest of the team is already here." Hermione opened her mouth and he put up a hand, forestalling her. "I know Arthur Weasley warned us about coming back to London. But there's value in hiding in plain sight, and frankly, I think even the Death Eaters would have a hard time cracking this place."

Ginny made a face. "I'm not sleeping in my clothes another night. If we're staying here, I'm moving my kit from Newcastle."

"Fair enough," said Lupin. "We've been in Newcastle long enough; it's probably best to move on. All right, Hermione?"

"Well, all right," she said. "I just feel a bit odd staying in London. Hiding in plain sight, I know, I know. It's still odd."

"Well," Ginny said. "At least we're staying somewhere posh this time."

***

A quiet few days passed with the team holed up in Wolfram & Hart. Hermione did her best to help Wesley research the question of how to destroy Horcruxes. Unfortunately, she wasn't as much help as she wanted to be. She could read almost any English text written from the fourteenth century onwards, but not a word of Greek or Latin, and most of what Wesley was turning up was in either of those two languages. Eventually, with Wesley's permission, she started simply browsing the stacks, looking for interesting things to read.

Remus and Ginny spent most of Tuesday doing the final preparations for the Fidelius Charm on Percy Weasley's home, most of Wednesday morning actually performing the Charm, and most of Wednesday night recovering from the Charm. The Fidelius Charm was enormously complicated, involving charms, potions, and a small bit of blood sacrifice. Several years ago, Hermione had been part of the team that sealed Harry into Grimmauld Place and cast the Fidelius Charm upon the house. She hadn't been much good for anything for about a day afterward.

The Wolfram & Hart team kept busy, too. Angel stormed around much of the time with a mobile phone clamped to his ear, dealing with some crisis or another that had erupted back in Los Angeles. Hermione heard him every time she passed through the lobby, stomping back and forth in his borrowed office and shouting things like, "Dammit, Morrigan, of course we're not accepting that counteroffer, we'd go broke in two weeks if we did" and "Tell them that if this isn't settled by the time I come back, heads are going to roll and I mean that literally".

Spike coped with the downtime by doing what he did best, which appeared to be annoy everyone. He descended upon Wesley and Hermione in the library, sticking around until Wesley threatened him with bodily harm if he didn't stop reading books aloud, replacing key phrases with rude words in a sort of obscene game of Mad Libs. During one of her visits to the canteen, Hermione overheard a group of paralegals discussing a number of crude stick figure drawings that had mysteriously showed up in the copyroom and knew immediately who was responsible.

As bad as it was to have Spike loitering in the library, having Illyria around was worse. Illyria gave Hermione the collywobbles, what with the strange eyes and hair and the unblinking stare and the random creepy pronouncements. It gave off the impression of a volcano, dormant but not controlled, and it made Hermione's skin crawl. Nor did she like the effect Illyria had on Wesley: he was by turns scornful and patient when speaking to it, all his actions underlaid with a certain gloomy desperation, and at times she caught him staring at it like a dying man.

They were stuck with Illyria, though. Wesley explained sotto voce that he had a responsibility to keep an eye on it and answer its questions about humanity, and in return it wouldn't go on violent killing sprees whenever it felt like it. Hermione was all in favor of preventing violent killing sprees, but at the same time, she wasn't exactly fond of spending two hours debating philosophy with an elder god.

For that was what Illyria wanted to discuss. It had opened the discussion one morning, greeting them with the question, "Is Voldemort evil?"

"Yes," Hermione said, unhesitatingly.

Illyria tilted its head to one side. "Why?"

"Why?" repeated Hermione. "Because he is. He's a tyrant and murderer who's keen on world domination and the genocide of all non-magical people. Have you been paying attention when I've talked about these things?"

"Am I evil, then?" Illyria said, fixing its gaze on Hermione. "When I was king, none could hope to match my power. I slaughtered thousands if it pleased me to do so and I held dominion over millions. Am I evil?"

Hermione hesitated, but Wesley said, ". . . No."

"Why? I have committed the same crimes as this fool Voldemort and I have committed them on a scale he will never even dream of. By the witch-woman's logic, I am evil. Why am I not, Wesley?"

"Because --" Wesley paused and then seemed to stumble over his words. "You want to change. You can change." He looked down, focusing intently on the book opened before him. "You can be redeemed. Voldemort cannot."

Illyria seemed to be processing this information. Hermione turned to her book, sure it had lapsed back into its silent mode, when it said, "Redemption. Such a small, pithy, human conceit."

"You do not want it?" Wesley asked, his tone going sharp.

"I wish to learn to abide. I am all that abides," Illyria said enigmatically.

Wesley snapped, "I haven't forgotten."

"But you would forgive."

"It's complicated."

Hermione was by now hopelessly lost and hating it. She made a mental note reminding herself that she really needed to talk to Wesley about just what Illyria was, and acknowledged in the same thought that he was probably never going to tell her.

Illyria looked away, as if thinking. "Voldemort is evil, and must be killed. You spoke of a prophecy foretelling his death." It turned, tilting its head quizzically at Hermione. "Why have you not killed him before now?'

"Because we couldn't," Hermione said. "With the Horcruxes intact, Voldemort's indestructible. Not to mention that the prophecy is clear: there is only one person who actually can kill Voldemort, and he's been ill for years. Last, there's the small matter of the fact that we don't know where Voldemort is. It's not like we can send assassins after him and be done with it."

A thoughtful look briefly crossed Illyria's face, disappearing quickly. Hermione frowned, waiting for it to respond, but Illyria seemed content to lapse into silence. Shaking her head, Hermione went back to puzzling her way through her stack of research materials.

***

By Thursday afternoon, the cabin fever was starting to settle in. Ginny suggested going to search for the third Horcrux, which appeared to be somewhere in Nottinghamshire. Hermione pointed out that there wasn't much point in going after another Horcrux when they didn't know what to do with the one they still had. They dragged Remus into Wesley's unoccupied office in order to discuss the issue with him, and Hermione was detailing exactly how little information she'd been able to find in the Wolfram & Hart library when the phone rang.

Lupin picked up the handset. "Hello?" He blinked and held the handset out to Hermione. "It's for you."

She took the handset, tugging at the cord. "This is Hermione Granger," she said, putting it to her ear.

"There's someone here to see you, Miss Granger," said the receptionist.

"I'll be right there. Thank you." Hermione frowned, handing the phone back to Lupin so he could hang it up.

Ginny blinked at her. "What was that?"

"Someone here to see me, apparently. Come on." Hermione led the way out of the office, with Remus and Ginny following behind her. She stepped out into the main lobby and then stopped in total confusion.

Neville Longbottom stood there in the lobby, his hands in the pockets of his robes, staring around in bewilderment.

"Neville?" Hermione said, hurrying over to him. "Neville, what are you doing here?"

He spun around. "Hermione! Where are we? What are you doing here?"

"It's a law firm. This is where Angel, Spike and Wesley are from. Never mind that, though. What are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"Took a cab," Neville said sheepishly. "I had to talk to you."

"You could have just rung me."

Neville shook his head. "It was important that I see you in person. Hermione --" He hesitated, taking a breath before he continued.

"Hermione, Harry's better. He's asking to talk to you."