The Show That Never Ends

HARRY POTTER AND THE SHOW THAT NEVER ENDS

Chapter 10: Yesterday, When I Was Mad

You're much too kind,
I smiled with murder on my mind...
Yesterday, when I was mad,
And quite prepared to give up everything.
--Pet Shop Boys

**********

"Hermione, maybe you should think this through," Sirius was saying. He, Napoleon and Sukesh were hurrying to keep up with her as she strode through the corridors of the I.D. Upon her pronouncement she'd immediately Disapparated and they'd been forced to follow her. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on in her mind.

"I don't need to think it through," Hermione said, following her Bubble.

"Well, do you have a plan?"

"Find the Guardian. That's the plan." She came to a set of double doors and flung them open, revealing the I.D. armory. Combat wands lined one of the walls, each labeled with the name of the agent to which they belonged, the shelves on the other three walls were stacked with talismans, bags of various powders and potions, anti-curse bands, and anything else an agent expecting action might need. Hermione grabbed a holster from a peg on the far wall and attached a pair of bands to one of its many loops.

"This is insane," Napoleon said.

"I'm glad you think so," she said, "because you're coming with me."

"I am?"

She turned and pointed her wand at him. "You wanna argue with me right now?"

"Uh, no. Absolutely not."

"Good." She slid the wand into its slot. "You better pick up your stick, and be sure to grab a pair of bands."

"But...I'm not sure that right now is the best time to..."

She whirled around to face him. "I told you not to argue with me!"

"My God, Hermione, get ahold of yourself! This is a very emotional moment, and I..."

"Emotional moment, my ass. Just get ready to leave."

"Right now? We need to..."

"Don't tell me what we need to do!" she yelled.

Napoleon grabbed her by the arms. "Calm the hell down!"

"I am perfectly calm!" she screamed up into his face.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Sirius said, stepping between them. "Let's all just take a breath, shall we?"

Hermione took a step back, resting her hands on her hips. The four wizards just stood there staring at each other. Hermione's jaw was set in a stubborn expression that Napoleon had come to know and fear. This was the woman who'd broken her own fiance's leg to pass her exams.

After a few tense moments, the grim silence was broken by the ID bubble appearing in the air before them. "Agent Jones," said the security wizard at the front gate.

Napoleon took a deep breath. "Yeah?" he said, his tone of voice normal.

"There's someone here to see Chief Potter. She says he's expecting her."

Hermione frowned. "Who is it?"

"No idea," Napoleon said, shrugging. "He didn't have any appointments today."

She addressed the Bubble. "Did she give her name?"

A brief pause. "It's the Slayer, Hermione."

They exchanged a brief glance. "We'll be right up."

**********

Hermione and Napoleon entered the pleasantly decorated visitor's lounge. Sitting on a couch against the wall was a woman Hermione had actually never met, although she had heard and read about her extensively. She had to swallow past her surprise at the sight of her. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but this woman wasn't it. The Slayer was very petite and blond with a perky expression and bright blue eyes. She was wearing simple fashion-forward clothes, her legs crossed demurely as she waited. Seated next to her was a pale man with platinum blond hair dressed all in black with a long black leather coat. This must be her vampire fiance. Hermione struggled to recall his name and couldn't do it.

When the Slayer saw them coming she stood up, smiling. "You must be Hermione," she said. Hermione shook her hand. "I'm Buffy Summers."

"Nice to meet you. This is Napoleon Jones, Harry's second," she said.

"We've spoken on the phone, Napoleon. This is Spike." Spike shook Napoleon's hand, both of them peering at each other with strange expressions.

"Do I know you? You look familiar," said the Slayer's friend, his voice thick with a Cockney accent very similar to Napoleon's.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Napoleon replied. "But I don't think we've met. I'm sure I'd remember it."

"Where are you from?"

"London. Your accent's a bit muddled, isn't it?"

The vampire made a dismissive gesture. "After a hundred years or so it all starts to blend together."

This exchange apparently over, Hermione turned back to the Slayer. "You had an appointment to see Harry?"

"Well...not exactly. He asked us to come by the next time we were in the neighborhood. I'm here consulting with the Watcher's Council, so we thought we'd stop by."

"Did he say why?"

"No, not really."

Hermione sighed. "Harry's not able to see you right now. I think he might have wanted your help. Even though he can't ask now, now that you're here I can ask you in his place. Please come with me."

She and Napoleon led the way through the corridors. "What happened to the big Leave Right Now Plan?" Napoleon whispered to her.

"We're still leaving. If Harry thought they might have information about the Guardian, and that's what I'm guessing he wanted to ask them, then we shouldn't ignore the possibility."

**********

Buffy turned from the glass partition between the lab and the chamber where Harry sat. "And how long has he been like this?"

"Since last night," Hermione said, her gaze drawn to the window as it always was. "And if I can't find a way to reverse it he'll die."

"Hmm." Buffy watched Harry while Spike stood with Sukesh a short distance away, hearing about Harry's symptoms. They'd been told the entire history. Hermione only hoped they had something to contribute. Harry must have thought they might, and she trusted his judgment. Besides, he knew them, she didn't.

Spike strolled over to the observation window, laying a hand on Buffy's shoulder as he approached. "So, no offense, but what has this got to do with us?" he said. "It's all very interesting and all, but we're not doctors or wizards."

"No, but you're part of the magical world. And Spike, you're how old?"

"128."

"I think Harry might have hoped you would know something about...the Guardian." Spike just blinked, but Hermione got the definite impression that the term had meaning for him. Buffy was looking up at him closely, apparently sharing the impression.

"The Guardian," he repeated.

"Yes. Harry has mentioned the Guardian both in dreams and while under hypnosis. I've come to believe that this is the key to his illness. I intend to find this Guardian."

Spike let out a sarcastic bark of laughter. "Good luck. Might as well chase after the ruddy Easter Bunny."

"The Guardian is real. I know it."

"It's a bloody myth, is what it is."

"Famous last words," Buffy muttered. "Come on, how many things that we thought were myths have turned out to be real,and also really ticked off that we thought they were myths?"

He sighed and took a seat next to her. "Well, this is one we might want to hope is a myth."

"Tell me what you know," Hermione said, leaning forward.

He smiled, a grim little smile. "I don't know anything. Just that you'd better beware."

"I need to find the Guardian."

"You don't want to find it. Its power is beyond anything we can comprehend."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Gee whiz, where have I heard that before? 'This could be the end of the universe,' or 'This is unlike anything we've ever faced before!'"

"No," he said sharply, throwing her a glance. "It's not a demon, or a god, or a worldly evil. It's not evil. Or good. It's nothing but what it is. No limits. A being of pure infinity."

Hermione blinked, the idea making her shiver inside. "It's the only thing that can help Harry."

"If I were you, I'd find another way."

"This is the only way." She rubbed her temples, a headache starting to auger through them.

"No offense, Hermione, but you're in over your head. This is more than you can handle. It might be more than anyone can handle."

"You'd be surprised what I can handle." She held Spike's gaze for a moment. He sighed.

"All right. Just...don't say I didn't warn you." Hermione nodded. Spike picked up a nearby clipboard and began scribbling on it. "Have you seen this symbol?" He held up the paper.

"Yes, it's the Guardian symbol."

Spike raised an eyebrow and appeared impressed. "Good. Yes, it is. Back in the forties me an' Dru were sort of banging about Europe after the old gang went pfftt, looking for someplace to settle. We ran into this coven of barmy witches just outside Athens. They seemed entertaining so we stuck around for a night or two, decidin' if we wanted to eat them. They were some kind of apocalyptic cult of loonies, and they claimed they were going to enter the service of the Guardian." Hermione perked up her ears. "Well, when vamps tell ghost stories they're usually about the Slayer, but even quieter than that I'd heard whispers about the Guardian, like no one dared do more than whisper. Pretty vague, most of it. Lots of vague rumors and 'I knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy' sort of stories. Angelus used to laugh about it and call it the boogeyman. But these witches seemed to have done a lot of research, and they said that they could find the Guardian by tracing this symbol." He tapped the paper. "They said that you could find a way to contact the Guardian if you paid close enough attention to the symbol."

"Which means what?"

"Dunno. They weren't real forthcoming with the details. Don't think they were too sure themselves. We got the idea they were waiting for a booming voice from the sky to tell 'em what to do."

"You know, the Watcher's Council might be able to help," Buffy said. "They like to keep the really secret stuff...well, secret. My Watcher is still in London."

"Can we talk to him?" Hermione said.

"I don't see why not. I'll have to go with you." Hermione just looked at her. "What, now?"

"Yeah, now," she said. "Harry won't last much longer. Sukesh has been giving him a week on the outside."

"It's a four hour drive."

"We'll Apparate." Hermione chuckled a little at Buffy's stricken expression. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe." She stood up. "Spike, can you stay here and tell Napoleon everything about this cult and the Guardian that you can think of?" Spike glanced at the Slayer and nodded.

"Sure, no sweat."

"Buffy, come with me. We'll have to go to the main entrance to Apparate." She looked at Napoleon. "We'll be back soon."

**********

"This is where we were when we met the coven," Spike said, pointing to a large map on the wall. As soon as his finger touched it the image zoomed in close until the roads and trees were visible. "Yeah, that's about right."

"And these witches said they'd found a way to contact the Guardian?"

"Yeah, well, that don't necessarily make it bleedin' so."

"Still, it's a good lead."

"That's about all I know," Spike said with a sigh, sitting down in one of the chairs before Napoleon's desk. "Not sure how much help it'll be."

"Any help would be an improvement, trust me." Napoleon sat down behind his desk and regarded the other man curiously. "Tell me something, will you?"

"What?"

"You're a vampire, right?"

"Yes, I can tell you that I'm a vampire." A smirk played about his pale lips as he answered.

"Sorry, it's just that..."

"No, lemme guess. You never met a good vampire before."

"Well, you used to be really evil. I've read about it."

"Yeah. William the Bloody, that's me."

"But not anymore."

"No. Not anymore."

"What changed?"

"Lots of things. Some soldier boys put a little gizmo in my head so I couldn't hurt humans anymore. That was the start. Then...well, her." He chuckled. "There was a time when the only thing I ever wanted was to see her die a horrible, slow, painful death. And she was just as eager to dust me."

Napoleon whistled. "Quite a walk from there to here, isn't it?"

"Bloody understatement of the century."

Napoleon wanted to ask him how it had happened, but he knew the highlights. Fell in love, rediscovered lost humanity, blah blah blah. "So what's it like?" he asked instead.

Spike frowned. "What's what like?"

"Being a vampire."

He thought for a moment. "Not sure. I've been one for so long I can hardly remember being anything else."

"But I mean...what's it like?"

"It has its ups and downs. On the plus side, there's the whole immortality thing, and the mega-strength thing...comes in right handy, I can tell you. Then there's the image."

"The image?"

"Sure. Flowing black cloak, he-who-walks-in-darkness image. Never went much in for it myself, actually."

"So that's the plus side."

"Yeah. On the minus side, there's the immortality thing again...and it migrates further to the minus side with every year I live. Not being able to go out in the daylight is a real drag, especially when you're dating someone who likes to sleep at night. Drinking blood isn't all it's cracked up to be. Besides, you can never have Italian again because of the garlic. And I haven't seen my own face in over a hundred years."

Napoleon nodded, wondering how he'd function without a reflection. "How do you know your hair's in the right spots?"

"I sort of have a feel for it." He sighed. "Actually, it's hard to explain to a non-vampire, but...I almost can't remember what I look like. I don't know the shape of my own chin, or my eyebrows, or anything else about my face." He chuckled. "It's a bit liberating, actually." He sobered then, examining his fingernails. "The worst thing is not knowing if I'll ever die. That seems like the bleeding lottery at first, but it's not. I know that someday I'll have to watch her die." He shook his head. "I watched her die once, and it damn near killed me. I don't know how I'll deal with it next time."

**********

"Are you okay?" Buffy said, touching Hermione's arm.

"Huh?" Hermione looked up from her notes, blinking. "Oh, yeah. Fine."

"You're kinda quiet."

"I've got a lot to think about."

"Is that stuff going to help?"

"I think so. I need to talk to Remus. Uh, a friend at the I.D."

They were walking down the sidewalk away from the Watcher's Council London offices until they reached a safe place to Apparate. Hermione wasn't looking where she was going, she had her nose stuck in the notes she'd taken in her talk with Mr. Giles, Buffy's Watcher. "How much further?" Buffy asked.

"A few blocks up there's a nice secluded alley. We'll Apparate from there."

Buffy fiddled with the strap of her backpack. "Listen, are you sure this quest thingie is such a good idea?"

"What do you mean?"

"From the rumors I've heard, this Guardian isn't something you want to mess around with."

"I have no intention of messing around with anything."

"You know what I mean."

Hermione looked into the other woman's eyes for a moment. "I don't understand." It was a lie, she understood perfectly, but she wanted to know what Buffy was thinking.

"I'm just asking you if you're willing to risk getting yourself killed."

"Wouldn't you for someone you loved?"

"Yes. I've done it dozens of times. But that's my job."

"Mine too."

"It might be a wild goose chase. The Guardian might be just myth, we don't know."

"I don't think so. Anyway, it's my only shot."

Buffy smiled. "Eh, what the hell. I've been dead a few times, it's not so bad."

Hermione chuckled. "Doesn't anyone ever stay dead in your world?"

"Not so much, no. My ex got sent to hell and came back. I've got a friend who lives in L.A. who lives with this half-demon guy, and he was dead for quite awhile. Longer than I was. He doesn't seem any the worse for the experience."

Hermione sniffed. "Well, if Harry dies he'll stay dead. That's why I have to do this."

"I hope the information Giles gave you will help."

"Yes, I think it will."

**********

Remus peered at the text open on the conference table. "What does it say?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure, my Upper Laconian is a little rusty. But I noted with interest the Guardian symbol featured several times."

"Yes, I see it." He glanced up at her. "Give me a minute to translate this." He sat down with a parchpad and set to work.

Hermione turned to Buffy and Spike as Remus worked. "Where did your Watcher find this text?"

Buffy smiled. "If there's one hard and fast truth about Watchers, it's that whatever your problem, they've got a book that talks about it." She looked over at the dusty, ragged book Remus was studying. "But if it's possible this one looks even more ancient than they usually do."

"I looked at the text on the way here and although I couldn't read all of it, the few words I could pick up here and there suggested to me that the writers were talking about the symbol as some sort of gateway."

"But where do we find this symbol?" Napoleon asked.

"Well, Remus has seen it several places...on tablets, carved into walls, that sort of thing. I doubt every single one of them will tell me how to find the Guardian. I'm hoping that this text will give us some more concrete answers."

Buffy sat down next to Hermione at the long table, looking closely into her face. "Are you all right?"

"I'd be fine if everyone would stop asking me that," Hermione snapped. Buffy just looked at her. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice lowered.

The Slayer sighed. "Listen, you're under a lot of pressure. Can you take a break? Lie down for a minute? Grab a bite, or some coffee?"

Hermione shook her head. "I can't relax until I know how I'm going to help Harry."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I know how you feel." She glanced up at Spike. "This one time I..."

"Ooh!" Remus suddenly squealed. Hermione jumped at this odd noise coming from her mentor. Everyone stared at him. Remus shrank into his chair, looking sheepish. "I mean...I think I found something. Come here and look." Hermione got up and stood behind him. The others crowded around, peering at the page he was indicating. "Here, you see this large Guardian symbol?" Hermione followed his finger. There was indeed a larger and more carefully drawn Guardian symbol than she'd ever seen in the upper left hand corner of the page, surrounded by Laconian characters. "This says, roughly, 'Seek thy knowledge, come from on high.'"

Hermione whistled. "Cor, that's a good lead. What else?"

Remus read carefully, his finger following the characters in the spiral pattern characteristic of the Laconian language. "It goes on...'Clouds of mind, voice of blackness, the eyes of the sun doth survey.'"

"That's nice and vague," Hermione muttered.

"The Laconians loved their metaphors," Remus said. "Those three phrases include imagery from very different elements of their theology...as if their religion didn't quite give them the tools to describe what they're writing about." He bent his head over the page again and went on. "Query that which cannot be posed, thine answer floweth as from the great mouth.'"

"Whose mouth?" Buffy asked, puzzled.

Hermione shook her head. "I think it means mouth like the mouth of a river. Go on, Remus."

"'As thy space be now a gateway, as thy sense the inner soul doth hear, so too as the hollows of the cloven hoof .'" Remus sighed, his finger at the end of the spiral of characters. "That's all."

Napoleon leaned over the pages, examining the letters under Remus' fingers. "You speak in riddles, Sahib," he muttered.

"'Thy space be now a gateway,'" Hermione repeated, blowing air through her teeth. "What space? A gateway to the Guardian?"

"And what's with the cloven hooves?" Buffy said. "Like Satan?"

"Not Satan," Spike said, speaking for the first time. "It's talking about Lasceaux." Pause. "Lasceaux?" He rolled his eyes. "Oh, hang it, am I the only one here who knows any anthropology?"

"No, you're not," Hermione said. "Lasceaux is a famous cave in France which is filled with primitive paintings. Muggles study it."

"There you go," Spike said. "Bloody demons can't ever say anything simply. In ancient texts, Lasceaux is often called the cavern of the cloven hoof, or the valley of the cloven hoof or whatever, because of the..."

"...animals painted on the walls," Hermione finished.

"Yeah. But...I don't know what the Laconians are on about. I've been there, there sure as hell isn't any Guardian symbol on the wall."

Hermione and Remus exchanged a look. "Actually, there might be," Remus said. "Part of that cave is cloaked and sealed off with magical wards, has been for hundreds of years. It's...oh dash it, this is all classified. It's part of our charter here, one of the original jobs of the I.D., even before it was called that. There's a squad who do nothing but guard the real caverns, the ones that lay behind the famous one the Muggles study. It's something we keep from them because there are paintings of wizards and magical secrets there, not for their eyes." He looked up at Hermione. "I don't know that there's a Guardian symbol back there but there might be. I'd say it's likely given this record, which predates our protection of the cavern significantly."

"We've got to get down there," Hermione said to Napoleon. "If this text is right that's the way we'll find the Guardian."

"You can't go until after dark," Remus said. "There will be too much activity at the site. You'll have to sneak in."

"Can't we just order the guards to stand down and allow us entry?"

"No! They don't accept orders! They're outside the chain of command and all they do is guard that cavern, and they guard it very well!" Remus' voice stuttered over key words in this sentence, which often happened when his brain was working faster than his tongue.

"Can't we have Sirius...surely if the Chancellor's office..."

"We can't involve Sirius in this, Hermione. What we're proposing is illegal."

"What are you suggesting?" Hermione said, her eyes flashing, hands on her hips.

Remus shifted, appearing intensely uncomfortable. "I'm suggesting you...uh...use your imagination."

Napoleon stared at him. "Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing?"

Hermione leaned down. "Are you telling me to incapacitate the guard and force my way in?"

"I would never advocate violence against a fellow agent," Remus said, sitting up straighter. "So...you didn't hear me say that."

"Of course not." Hermione began to pace. "Merlin's bells, it's nine hours until dark! What am I going to do, I'll go insane just waiting!"

"Well, you'll have preparations to make..." Remus began.

"That won't take all day!" She walked back and forth. "I've got to let off some steam or I'll be so nervous by the time we leave I'll be good for nothing." She clenched her fists. "Arrrgghhh...what I need is to just thrash something to within an inch of its life." She stopped pacing and looked at Buffy, a slow smile coming over her face. "Any volunteers?"

**********

Napoleon sat next to Spike on a bench against the wall of the gymnasium. Buffy and Hermione were walking together towards the center of the gymnasium, shedding outerwear as they went. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Buffy said as they faced each other.

Hermione was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Oh, come on. It'll be fun."

"To whale the tar out of each other? You can't sneak into the caves all bruised."

Hermione looked up at the ceiling. "Safety charms on," she said. A brief flicker of bright white light flashed around the room. "There. No bruises. It won't even hurt." She laced her fingers together and flexed them away from her. Napoleon could hear all her knuckles crack. "I've been curious about you."

Buffy smiled and stripped off her sweater, revealing a tank top underneath. "This isn't fair. I've got superpowers. No offense, Hermione, but you won't last ten seconds." She sighed. "But it's just a friendly spar, I guess it won't kill me to take it down to a mortal level."

"Don't do me any favors."

"Now see, that's overconfidence. You haven't even been fighting for a year yet. I'll just tone down the Slayer strength a little, okay? It really wouldn't be right for me to fight you any other way."

Hermione thought for a minute. "Okay."

Buffy put her hands on her hips. "I heard you broke Harry's leg to pass your tests."

Hermione stopped bouncing. "Who told you that?"

"Harry did."

She sighed. "Did he sound mad?"

"Not at all. He sounded proud."

Hermione grinned. "Good. I'm proud of myself. But this is a harder test. I want to see if I pass this one."

Spike leaned over and spoke low into Napoleon's ear. "That girl's got some stones on her."

Napoleon chuckled. "She's a masochist, that's what she is. She keeps trying to push herself harder, against more and more skilled opponents. She doesn't need all the physical training she's had for her division, she elected to take more."

Spike said nothing for a moment, just straightened up and kept his eyes facing forward. Napoleon watched the two women warming themselves up. "Ten pounds on Buffy," Spike finally whispered.

Napoleon grinned. "You're on."

The two men watched as Hermione and Buffy shook hands, then went at it. Napoleon's eyes widened as he watched the Slayer. She was like a living embodiment of violence. She flowed like water, struck like a thunderclap, she was too fast for his eyes to follow. I think I'm out ten pounds, he thought to himself. Hermione's pretty good but she'll never beat her. He winced as Buffy landed a hitch kick to Hermione's jaw. "Ooh, that'll leave a mark," he muttered.

"That's my girl," Spike said, his eyes on his fiancee. He jumped a little as Hermione took advantage of a pause and landed a hard punch to Buffy's jaw.

Napoleon shook his head. "This isn't fair." It couldn't be less fair. Buffy had been fighting since age 15 and was endowed with preternatural powers. All Hermione had was eight months of training. Good training, granted, but it paled in comparison.

Spike shrugged. "Yeah, well, I don't ever get to go on beach holidays. Things are tough all over."

They watched in silence for a few moments. Napoleon smiled as Hermione managed to hold her own. He wondered how much Buffy was holding back but decided it didn't matter. She would still be a formidable opponent no matter how easy she went. Hermione's face was creased into a fearful grimace. He marveled that she was willing to take the time out of their preparations for this sparring match, but it made some sense. Since they couldn't leave for Lasceaux until after dark, they would have otherwise just sat around and stared at each other...and he could certainly understand her need to release some tension with a good old-fashioned ass-whupping. He felt his pulse rise a little at the sight before him...two women fighting, no holds barred. He leanedover and whispered to Spike. "Say...is this turning you on at all?"

Spike shifted a little. "Oh God, yes." He smiled. "You?"

"I think I could hammer nails with my dick right now."

Spike doubled over, snickering. "Bloody hell, that's rich," he managed. "Thanks for sharing."

"No problem."

Buffy executed a nifty little flip thing. The intention was clearly to get Hermione right in the face as her feet came whipping around, but Hermione anticipated it and instead grabbed Buffy's leg near the hip and slammed her into the ground. "Good," Spike muttered. "I'm impressed. She's gotten me with that move more than once." He shook his head. "How did she get this good at fighting in so short a time? The way I hear it she's some kind of super-bookworm, not the physical type."

"Very true. That's how she got this good. She doesn't just sweat it out in the gym. She reads books. Hundreds of books. Books about fighting technique, defense techniques, you name it she's read it."

Napoleon winced as Hermione was kicked halfway across the floor. "Oh, man," he heard her mutter as she got to her feet. "I think this is the dictionary definition of 'getting one's ass kicked.'"

"Hey, most people wouldn't have lasted two minutes," Buffy said, no trace of hubris in her voice. She was just stating a fact. "You got the knack."

Hermione rubbed her upper arm where she'd struck the floor. "You oughta take on Harry sometime. That might be an even fight. He's got those pesky superpowers too."

"So do you."

"Only with my wand, which I conveniently left in my locker." She rejoined the Slayer in the middle of the floor. "A nice 'stupefy' would come in pretty handy right about now...but I guess I'll just have to do the best I can without it," she said, then hauled off and punched Buffy across the face. The friendly fight continued.

After a few more minutes Hermione finally admitted defeat, although she had been struggling for some time. She picked herself up off the gym floor after being once again tossed across the room like a used Kleenex and held up her hand. "All right, all right," she said, breathing hard. "I capitulate to the better woman."

Buffy smiled, not even winded. "Not better, just stronger and more experienced. And hey, you did really well! You'd be more than a match for anyone who wasn't a Slayer."

"Thanks," Hermione said, wiping sweat from her brow.

Buffy slung one arm around her shoulders as they left the floor. "C'mon, what do you say I buy you a drink?"

"It's one o'clock in the afternoon."

"Well, I wasn't actually suggesting we pull a Ray Milland. Orange juice sound okay?"

Hermione grinned. "Perfect."

**********

Buffy sat in front of the observation window and looked through into Harry's cell. Within the hour, Hermione and Napoleon would be leaving, and she and Spike would go back to London and resume their lives. A few hours ago Harry had become extremely agitated and Sukesh had sedated him. He was now lying flat on his back, strapped tightly to a padded examination table. Hermione was sitting by his side holding his hand, as it was safe for her to do while he was unconscious.

In the last seven hours since she'd made her acquaintance, Buffy had gotten to know Hermione a little, and the more she knew her the more she was impressed by her. Her first impression had been that of a slender Plain Jane more comfortable around books than people...but that wasn't true. Though her features were regular and unremarkable, Buffy soon saw the quality that had made at least two men fall in love with this woman. Her beauty came not from her face, which was pleasant but stopped just short of pretty, but from her personality. It was the keen intelligence that shone through her eyes, her animated expression, her ready smile and the little quirk about her mouth that gave away her impulsive nature.

"You look serious," came a familiar voice over her shoulder. Spike pulled up a stool next to her. "What're you doing?"

She reached out and took his hand. "Just watching."

He followed her gaze into the cell where Hermione sat. "I don't know what to make of her," he said.

"I like her. She reminds me of Will. But different." Buffy shook her head. "It's not right she should have to go through all this."

"She seems to be holding up all right."

"Look at her face."

"What about it?"

"I know that face. She's thinking about the mission, and all the things that could go wrong, and she's thinking about the supplies she's packed and the best way to get into the cave and the spells she'll need. But underneath all that, what she's really thinking is that if she just loves him enough it'll all magically work out all right." She glanced at Spike, who was watching her intently. "I've been where she is. I know."

"Yeah," he whispered, not needing to add that he'd been there too. He squeezed her hand. "You wanna get out of here?"

"Not yet. Let's see them off, okay?"

"Okay."

**********

Hermione indulged herself in a little escapism and put all the thoughts of the mission out of her mind, where they had set up camp and were busy building a campfire and getting out the marshmallows. She didn't want to think about it anymore, she just wanted to sit here with him.

She brought his hand to her chest and held it there, her eyes never leaving his face as she ran her other hand up and down his forearm. His skin felt clammy and damp, beads of sweat were gathered at his hairline. His face looked peaceful, though, and she could almost believe he was only sleeping. Soon he'd wake up and say her name and she'd see him smile at her again.

Tears rose in her eyes, tears she'd been grimly pushing away all day. She let them come for one last good cry before she had to pull herself together and execute this mission like a professional. She laid one hand on his forehead, his image doubling and then trebling before her eyes. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. "This isn't right, it just isn't right." She leaned closer. "Are you in there? Can you hear me?" She swiped one hand across her eyes. "Oh, hang it. I guess it doesn't matter. It's just...it isn't fair! I lose you for two months, you come back and it's like a miracle, and now this...when does it stop? Will we ever have any peace?" She sighed and sagged in her chair, keeping a tight grip on his hand. "And now I'm so afraid I might lose you for good and all I can think about is all those years. Horace, Rufus, Abel, Gerald...why did I bother? How could I have been with anyone but you? So much wasted time..." She choked down a hoarse sob.

The door to the cell opened and Sukesh entered, followed by Napoleon and Sirius. It was a little crowded in the cell by the time they all squeezed in. Sukesh sat down next to her. "All right. I can wake him and keep him calm for a short time. Probably ten minutes at the most. Just long enough for you to tell him what you're doing and say good-bye. All right?"

She nodded. "Will it hurt him?"

"No, I don't think so. I wouldn't recommend doing it more than once, though."

"Go ahead."

Sukesh stood at the head of the table and got out his wand and a book, which Remus held open for him. He said a charm over Harry, the red glow from his wand settling over Harry's face and then vanishing. "Give it a minute."

Hermione held tight to Harry's hand, watching his face intently. After a few long moments Harry began to stir. His eyelids fluttered, then opened. "Hermione?" he mumbled.

"I'm right here, Harry."

He turned his head towards the sound of her voice, looking around. "Where am I?"

"You're in Confinement," Sirius said. "Do you remember what's happened?"

"Yes." He looked around at them, smiling a little. "And you were there, and you, and you..."

Hermione laughed a little too loudly, relieved to hear his voice. "I see you still have your sense of inappropriate humor."

He turned towards her, sobering. "What's going on?"

She scooted closer. "Sukesh used a charm to calm you, just for a few minutes, so I could talk to you." She hesitated. "Harry, I'm leaving now. I'm going to find a way to cure you."

An alarmed expression came into his eyes, but passed quickly. "Oh." He blinked. "Can't someone else go?"

She smiled and laid one hand on his forehead. "I will find the Guardian, and whatever it is, I will make it help you."

He held her gaze for a long moment. "Hurry," he croaked.

"Is it bad?"

He nodded. "It's dark in here...and it's cold, and he's strong. I don't know..." He trailed off, his eyes downcast. Suddenly he jerked his head up and looked at her. "Could you...um...do me a favor?"

"Anything."

He smiled just a little. "Marry me?"

She smiled back. "I already answered that question, remember?"

"No. Now." He stared up into her face, his gaze intense, no longer smiling. "Please."

Hermione stared back, frowning. "What are you talking about?"

"Marry me right now. Before you leave." His hand, its movement limited by the restraints, reached to clutch a handful of her shirtsleeve. "Argo can do it. She's empowered."

"Harry, why? What do you mean?"

"I...can't hold on much longer. He gets stronger, I get weaker. You'll go away...by the time you get back...it'll be too late." Hermione was shaking her head, dumbfounded. "Please," he said quietly. "I need to prepare...for..." He cleared his throat. "I'm gonna die pretty soon. I'd just like to be married to you...when..." He trailed off.

It took Hermione a few moments to muster words. Napoleon was looking away, Sirius had one hand over his eyes, and Sukesh looked like he might cry any moment. "Harry, I...I don't know what to say." She lowered her head to his shoulder, then straightened and kissed him gently on the lips.

"You will, then?" he said.

She smiled. "Absolutely not."

His eyes widened. "Wha...why not?"

She stood up then and leaned over him, grasping his hand in both of her own. "Now you listen to me, and listen good. You're not going to die, do you understand that? Not now, not like this. You are going to live, and I will marry you in November like we planned."

"But...I..."

"No. I won't do it. Don't you give up, don't you dare. You hang on until I get back. I don't care how hard it gets or how much it hurts, you keep fighting, do you hear me?" She was almost yelling at him now, but she couldn't stop herself. "I'm not saying goodbye, and that's what this would be, goodbye. So forget it. You're not gonna die, because I'm not going to let you. Okay?"

He just looked up at her for a moment. "My hero," he finally whispered.

She chuckled a little, sniffing. "Okay. Glad that's settled." She stroked his face with a gentle touch. "I don't know how long I'll be gone. Napoleon is coming with me."

Harry glanced up at his second, then back at her. "Look out for him, then. Just don't kiss him again, okay?"

She grinned. "Okay, I won't." She looked down at him, her tears dropping onto the shiny surface of the table on which he lay. She reached down and undid the straps around his wrists and his chest, freeing him from the waist up. With her help he sat up, his legs still bound to the table. She held on to his hands; he stared down at their intertwined fingers as if he were suddenly afraid to look her in the face. "Hey," she whispered, touching one finger underneath his chin and tilting it up. His expression was so naked, so anxious, as if his struggle had demolished all his emotional defenses. As she watched, his eyes welled up with tears.

"I'm..." he began, then had to stop before continuing. "I'm scared, Hermione." His eyes cut away as he said this.

She nodded. "Me too." She let go of his fingers and raised her hands to either side of his head, leaning forward to press her forehead against his. She could feel his breath on her face and his hands gripping her forearms. "But hey, we've gotten through worse situations than this."

She sensed his rueful smile. "Name one," he said.

"Okay, you got me." She drew back, reaching up to brush his hair from his forehead.

"You better go before I come over all evil again," he whispered.

"Yeah." She knew he was right, but she was finding it difficult to turn her back on him and leave, not while the little voice in her mind was whispering about how she might never see him alive again. She looked into his eyes, so familiar to her and yet foreign enough that she worried about remembering what they looked like. "I love you," she said, placing deliberate emphasis on each word. "I have always loved you."

His answering smile was the first genuine expression she'd seen on his face since Sukesh had awoken him. "I love you too, Hermione." His smile faded. "Right now that's all I've got."

"I'm going to go now, okay?"

"Okay." Hermione nodded and took a step back, turning away. She took another step, then paused. She could feel his eyes on her back, watching her leave...but she couldn't leave like that.

She turned and rushed back to the table, her hands reaching out, tears blinding her as Harry pulled her to him. She was kissing him before she knew what was happening, his hands clenched in her hair. She saw out of her peripheral vision the others turning tactfully away but she wouldn't have cared if they'd watched everything and sold tickets for anyone else who wanted a big steamy gawk. She knew they had no time, she had to hurry, he had no time to be himself, and the incessant yammering of the little voice that this might be their last kiss wasn't helping. Their kisses had a desperate quality, an urgent need for this one last moment of intimacy before they were parted, perhaps forever. His lips still tasted of the last coffee yesterday before he'd lost control...my God, was it only yesterday? It seemed a thousand years had passed since then. This day had stretched out into infinity since she'd first arrived at Confinement early this morning.

Finally when she could put it off no longer she tore herself away, keeping her face averted, and strode out. She heard the others following her save Sukesh, who stayed to tend to Harry.

Hermione didn't stop walking until she reached her office, where she stood for a few seconds gulping great gasps of air. She turned to face Napoleon and the others. "All right. I'm okay." She blew air through her teeth. "Napoleon, let's get our stuff and get the hell out of here before I lose my nerve." He nodded and went to fetch the packs.

Buffy stepped out from behind Sirius. "We're gonna leave now, Hermione. I just wanted to stay long enough to wish you good luck."

Hermione shook her hand with genuine warmth. "Thanks so much for all your help, Buffy. I won't forget it. You two have a safe trip home." She turned back to her coatrack, checking the pockets of her traveling cloak. Buffy and Spike left without fanfare, leaving only Hermione and Sirius.

Hermione raised her hands to her head and began twisting her hair into a tight, thick plait, her fingers expertly twining the strands. "Hermione..." Sirius began.

"Don't say it," she said shortly. She didn't need to hear yet another admonishment to be careful.

"I was just going to thank you for helping him." He made a frustrated face. "It should be me going."

"Ha!" she said. "You've got enough to do, Sirius, what with looking after the whole planet and all." She turned away from the mirror to face him. "And you don't have to thank me. You know I can't stand by and do nothing while he's suffering. Could you?"

Sirius nodded, looking at her with a strange expression. Abruptly, he stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug. "Good luck," he said into her ear, then turned and left just as Napoleon re-entered with their packs.

Hermione put on her cloak. "All right, let's get this show on the road."

**********

"How are we going to do this?"

"Uhh...real quiet-like."

Hermione tossed Napoleon a look, which was lost on him since they were huddled in inky pitch blackness. They were crouched beyond a ridge overlooking Lasceaux. The site was bathed in light from tall floodlights. They'd been watching it for a good ten minutes while the anthropologists and administrators left. The site now appeared deserted, but it was never a good idea to assume.

Hermione scooted a little closer to Napoleon. They were both wearing form-fitting black field suits that covered them to their necks, including their hands. They wore black knitted caps over their hair and carried their wands in narrow pockets sewn into the outer thighs of their suits. They both looked every inch spies. Hermione spoke in a low whisper. "The part of the cave we're interested in is at the back, secluded and hidden, so once we're in we won't need to worry about being discovered. That's good. There's only one way in, through the front, and it's a blind tunnel...no retreat. That's not so good." She hesitated. "I see a few options. We can wait until we're sure no one is around then just walk right in. Or, we can use Harry's Invisibility Cloak to sneak in."

"Oh, I'm liking that idea."

"Yeah, but it won't help us once we're inside. Remus told me about the magical wards guarding the cavern, if we try to cross we'll be spotted in a heartbeat. There are at least three guards, highly trained and very enthusiastic. The cloak will at least give us the element of surprise, but we'll have to be quick and incapacitate them right away, hopefully before they know what's happened."

"How do we get through the wards once we're inside?"

Hermione rooted in her pack and pulled out a vial full of murky brown fluid. "You'll become one of the guards with this Polyjuice potion. The wards are designed to let the guards pass through. Once you're through, you can destroy the ward talisman so I can come in."

"What about the guards' rotation? What are the odds that someone will walk in to take over the watch and find us there with our pants down, so to speak?"

Hermione bit her lip, thinking, then shook her head. "I don't know. There's no way to know when these guards came on duty. I guess we'll just have to risk it and work fast."

"And once all this goes according to plan we're looking for what, exactly?"

"I'll know it when I see it." They stood up and Hermione hooked her arm securely through Napoleon's, then drew the cloak around them both.

Walking to the cave entrance without screwing it up turned out to be harder than it looked. They had to keep in step lest one of them stumble and dislodge the cloak. The hillside was rocky and strewn with things that could easily roll away and give away their location. They crept carefully down the slope, clutching at each other while they held the cloak around them.

At last they reached the relatively level area near the cave, worn smooth by years of footsteps. They walked more confidently into the cave entrance. All their caution now seemed a little silly; there wasn't a single soul around.

The public part of the cavern was ringed with fence keeping viewers away from the cave wall. They carefully stepped over the barrier separating them from the rest of the cave as it curved back into the side of the hill.

They turned a corner and came up short. "Bloody fantastic," Napoleon hissed. Directly in front of them was a featureless stone wall, apparently the end of the cave. "Now what?"

"Shhh!" she hissed. "It's probably fake, like the wall at King's Cross in front of platform Nine and Three-Quarters."

"Looks solid enough to me."

"Of course it does."

"All right, but if I break my nose I'm putting in for workman's comp." Hermione held tight to Napoleon's hand, steeling herself, and they walked forward towards the wall. The impulse to stop was very strong but she resisted...and all at once they were on the other side. She could feel Napoleon about to say something and clapped her hand over his mouth, nodding in front of them.

About twenty metres ahead, two guards in black I.D. uniforms stood at attention on either side of the cavern. She couldn't see a barrier but knew one must exist. Past them the cave curved to the right and disappeared. A third guard was stationed just ahead of them, sitting on a high stool near the wall. Hermione looked at them, marveling at how dull their lives must be...after all, no one ever came back here.

She and Napoleon exchanged a glance, then moved forward as one, slowly and carefully so as not to make any noise. They drew even with the guard on the stool. Hermione pressed three fingers to Napoleon's forearm, then two, then one. At 'one,' she pointed her wand at the guard. "Stupefy!" The curse hit him in the chest and he slumped off the stool to the ground.

They threw off the cloak as the other two guards leapt forward. Hermione barely had time to register how quickly they reacted, as if this sudden turn of events didn't faze them at all. One second the guards were standing at their posts, the next second they were on them.

Hermione somehow had drawn the taller of the two. She ducked his fist but he anticipated it and landed his other fist in her midsection. She swallowed past the pain and the urge to double over and threw dignity to the wind. She darted forward and thrust her knee right into the guy's crotch. He fell to one knee. Hermione reset to take him out with a kick, but he suddenly grabbed her around the lower legs. She lost balance and fell over him. She felt a sharp sting along her thigh and then a sickening flowing warmth and she knew he's gotten her with some kind of blade.

She wondered why her opponent wasn't trying to Stun her...but he didn't seem to be wearing a wand. The light dawned. "Napoleon!" she yelled, kicking the guard in the face as she scrambled to her feet. Her left leg felt numb and wobbly. "Don't use your wand!"

He had been about to do so, but punched his opponent instead. "Why not?"

"The wards, we're too close!" She needed say no more. Napoleon reholstered his wand. Hermione's guard lunged at her again, but he was stunned from her blow to his face and she sidestepped him easily. As he went down she landed a well-placed kick to his jaw and he dropped like a stone. Hermione folded to the ground, the entire left leg of her suit wet with blood. She dragged herself to sit against the stone wall and watched Napoleon take out the guard he was fighting with a hard punch that whistled as it went through the air. Both the guards temporarily knocked out, he Stunned them both at close range where there was no danger he'd miss and hit the wards. "All right, done and done," he said, sliding his wand into its pocket. "That wasn't as..." He stopped short, having just seen Hermione sitting propped up with her hands on her leg, blood pooling on the dirt beneath her. "Oh God," he choked out. He rushed towards her, skidding to his knees at her side. "You're hurt."

"It's not bad," she said through clenched teeth.

"The hell it isn't," Napoleon said, his face pale. He tore the leg of her field suit away from the cut. The pain rocketed up her leg again and she threw her head back against the stone wall, stifling a cry. "Sorry," he muttered. She looked down, afraid of what she might see. The guard had sliced a long cut up the side of her thigh, it looked about half an inch deep. "It's not that deep, but it's bleeding a lot," Napoleon said. He looked up at her. If Hermione had ever doubted his feelings for her, the look on his face at this moment would have removed all doubt.

"Can you fix it?" she managed.

His look of alarm intensified. "My medical charms are a little rusty...can't you do it?"

She shook her head. "Hurts too much, can't concentrate." She met his eyes. "You can do it. You know the charms, you haven't forgotten."

He stared at her for a minute, then struck his fist against his thigh. "Dammit, I wish I had my pack...spell compendium..." He pulled out his wand. "Okay. Okay. Okay." He kept muttering it to himself. "Uh...it's uh..."

Hermione held tight to his hand, hard enough that it probably hurt, but he didn't say anything. She searched her distracted mind for the right words to help him. "Succinibus..."

"Right! That's it. Succinibus reparomnivit striatum!" A soft orange glow emanated from the tip of his wand and settled over the long cut on Hermione's leg. Almost at once the pain diminished a little.

"Oh," she breathed.

"Better?" Napoleon said anxiously.

She nodded. "It'll...take a minute to finish."

He scrambled up next to her and Hermione leaned against him gratefully. He hesitated a moment, then put his arms around her shoulders. Hermione squeezed his hand as the magic worked in her leg, glad to have a friend with her.

**********

"Lumos," she said. The tip of her wand blazed, illuminating the cavern beyond the wards. The rest of their plan had gone without incident. Napoleon took a hair from the head guard and became him briefly. The wards let him through and he destroyed the talisman generating them. The guards slept on. Hermione felt a little guilty about beating up agents of her own employer, but it couldn't be helped.

By the time Napoleon turned back into himself her leg was completely healed, if a little shaky. They checked the guards and went on. The cavern beyond the wards widened and the ceiling rose so Hermione's wand barely illuminated all of it. They walked slowly forward, scanning the walls.

When it came, at first Hermione wasn't sure what she was seeing. "Napoleon," she said. "Look." He turned and followed her gaze. There was an offshoot from the main cavern like a cul-de-sac. It was deep, the wand only lit the first few metres of wallspace...but what they could see was covered with drawings. They hardly saw most of them, because their attention was commanded by the very large Guardian symbol right smack dab in the middle. "Eureka," she muttered, stepping closer and taking a few sheets of parchment out of her back pocket.

"Wicked," was Napoleon's only comment.

Hermione barely heard him. The drawings around the symbol commanded her attention. If she would find a way to contact the Guardian, she suspected it would be here. "Look," she said. "This grouping looks like constellations."

"Maybe the gateway is on a stellar clock. Accessible during a certain sky configuration."

"That's possible." She followed the progression of drawings around the large symbol in the middle, her heart sinking. "Oh, bloody hell," she muttered.

"What?"

"Well, look at this! It'll take awhile to decipher all this." She shook her head and hit the cave wall with one fist. "Dammit, we don't have that kind of time. I can't sit here for days and work out what all this means!"

"You won't have to."

Napoleon and Hermione both jumped, Hermione emitting a very embarrassing un-agent-like yelp. The new voice had come strong and loud from the back of the cave. "Holy shit," Napoleon muttered. "I think I just swallowed my own tongue."

"Who's there?" Hermione yelled, her voice a little shriller than normal. They both stared into the darkness where the light from Hermione's wand didn't reach. "Identify yourself!"

A small flame flared to life in the darkness...a cigarette lighter, Hermione realized. She got a fleeting glimpse of a face and the red glow of the speaker's cigarette, then the lighter went out. Hermione squinted into the darkness...the voice had sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it.

Footsteps approached them...two sets of footprints. A vague shape appeared at the edge of the circle of light, then stepped inside. Hermione's mouth fell open and her wand hand dropped to her side.

"Terk?" she said, incredulous.

Terk smiled in her lopsided, sarcastic way and flicked ash off the tip of the cigarette. "Took you long enough to get here."

**********

Hermione slid into the secluded booth at the rear of the pub where she and Napoleon were staying. Napoleon hung up her cloak and sat down next to her. Terk set a pitcher of lager on the table as she and Tax sat opposite them.

"So what the hell is..."

Terk held up a hand to stop Hermione's words. "For this conversation, we will all definitely need beer." She poured out four glasses. Hermione took a swig, thirsty and sweaty from their cavern excursion. The lager tasted like the nectar of the gods.

"Okay," Hermione said, setting down her glass. "How did you two get into that cavern?"

The Hainsleys exchanged a glance. "You know how," Tax said, his gravelly voice still strange to Hermione's ears. Terk usually did most of the talking.

Hermione paused, watching their faces. "The Guardian."

"Yes," Terk said.

Napoleon was staring intently at his ex-wife. "So you're not a Muggle?"

They exchanged another amused glance. "Of course we're Muggles," she said. "Do you think I could have hidden magical powers from you all those years?"

"But...how..."

Terk rolled her eyes. "You wizards are so egocentric. Everything's got to be about you. The Guardian doesn't discriminate."

"Who is the Guardian?" Hermione said, her hands gripping her beer glass. "What is it? Where can I find it?"

"Slow down," Terk said.

"Just tell me who it is!" Another of those telepathic twin-glances. Hermione looked from Terk's face to her brother's. "You don't know, do you?"

"Let me start at the beginning," Terk said. She took a deep breath and laced her hands together on the tabletop. "Tax and I are only two members of a vast network of the Guardian's helpers." She looked at Napoleon. "We were recruited two years ago, after our divorce." Napoleon relaxed a little. "We don't know who the others are, or how many there are, or what they do. We get our orders from a contact, someone else we've never seen."

"Who's your contact?"

"His name is North, we think he has a more direct connection to the Guardian, but we're not sure what."

Hermione was nodding. "Clever system. You have no direct knowledge that might endanger you, or them."

"Exactly." Terk hesitated. "I've often wondered about the Guardian. Is it a person? Some sort of entity? A force of nature? I don't get it. But I know that when our orders come, the work we're asked to do is morally justifiable." She looked at Hermione. "Orders like going to the I.D. and getting to know you and Harry."

Hermione's mouth fell open and she would have dropped her glass if she weren't clutching it so hard. "What? You were ordered there?"

"Yes. The instructions were very vague, but when Harry became ill things started to come into focus."

Hermione slammed a hand on the table. "I knew it! I knew the Guardian was involved in this somehow!"

"Hang on, we don't..." Napoleon began.

"Why else were they sent here?" She fixed the Hainsleys with an intense stare. "Did you come here to take me to the Guardian?"

Terk made a face that defied description. "I don't know. North said we were allowed to help you, but...I'm not sure what we can do. We have no way of contacting the Guardian. I've tried to talk to North several times today and he doesn't answer. I think we're on our own."

"Well, then what's the point?"

"Look, the only thing I can think to do is let you talk to someone else in the network, someone a little higher up in the chain of command."

"I thought you didn't know anyone else in the network."

"We don't, except...there was one woman, Theo. She explained things to us when we were first recruited. Gave us a little orientation. She might be able to help."

Hermione turned to Napoleon. "Not a very strong lead," she said.

"Only one we got," he replied. "If this person has any more information it can only help."

She nodded. "All right. Let's find her." She waited for Terk's hearty agreement but none came. "You do know where she...oh no, don't tell me."

Terk spread her hands, shrugging. "I told you, they tell us nothing!" A frustrated silence fell. "Well, she was American..."

"Oh, grand. That narrows it down to 250 million people," Napoleon sneered.

"No, don't let's jump in the lake yet," Hermione said. "We'll figure this out. Okay, let's think logically here. How do you communicate with North?"

"Through a sort of automatic writing."

"Okay, could you use that to contact this Theo person?"

Terk looked at her brother. "Could we? We know her name, that's all we ever need for North," she said to him.

"Worth a try," he said with a shrug. "But if she's just a lowly helper like us, she won't have any way to reply."

"Let's try it," Hermione said. "Now."

**********

Hermione held herself back from rushing up the street at an all-out run. Haste would not help at this point, but that didn't mean it wouldn't feel good to hurry. She was keenly aware of every second passing as one that Harry spent locked in his cell struggling to keep control of his mind.

She and Napoleon had not been permitted to watch while Terk tried to contact her friend. It had seemed to take forever, but the end result had been positive. According to Terk, this mysterious person would meet them at the same coffeeshop in Iowa where she'd always met the Hainsleys.

It had occurred to Hermione several times already that she was placing quite a lot of trust in Terk and Tax. Part of her was asking herself if it was wise to do so. They appeared to have been sent by a being of uncertain motives. Their orders could very well be to make sure she failed...but somehow she doubted it. Terk had talked about their orders being morally justifiable, and Hermione got the definite impression that if they weren't, Terk wouldn't think of obeying them.

And when it came right down to it, Napoleon trusted them and she trusted him...even if had taken a fair amount of cajoling to get him to tone himself down enough to be inconspicuous on the streets of Bettendorf.

This urban metropolis turned out to be one quarter of a grouping of four small cities (referred to, with amazing American creativity, as the Quad Cities) in the endless ocean of cornfields that was the state of Iowa. The little of it Hermione had seen didn't impress her. The main streets of downtown Bettendorf were pleasant enough, but had a strange canned quality, like an exhibit at DisneyWorld.

She felt extremely British amongst all these pink-skinned, sunburned, ice-cream-eating Yanks, but Terk and Tax were more relaxed than she'd ever seen them. They were in their element. It astounded her that such a bland atmosphere could produce two such interesting people. While waiting for their appointment at the coffeeshop, they had already forced Hermione and Napoleon to sample such Midwestern specialties as bratwurst and frozen custard. The bratwurst had been a little greasy for her taste, but she would have gladly eaten the frozen custard with every meal.

"There's the Beanery," Terk said, low in Hermione's ear and pointing up the street to a green-and-white striped awning that shaded several groupings of patio furniture.

Hermione's urge to rush jacked up a few notches, but she kept her pace casual, holding Napoleon's hand as if she were just out for a stroll.

The coffeehouse was a pleasant, dark, and fragrant sort of place. The floor was wide wooden planks, the furniture was a jumble of mismatched antique chairs and beat-up lumpy sofas. The place was nearly deserted, as it was the middle of the afternoon. Napoleon checked his watch. "We've got fifteen minutes or so. I'll get us some coffee." He went to the counter while Hermione and the Hainsleys settled around a low coffee table in the corner. Hermione sat in a faded maroon wing chair, Terk and Tax on a plushy plaid settee with a bit of stuffing sticking out of the back.

They sat in tense silence until Napoleon returned with a tray of coffee mugs. He handed one to Hermione and she saw that he'd gotten her a mug of hot cocoa, because he knew she didn't drink coffee after lunchtime. He smiled shyly at her and sat on the floor among some large pillows. Hermione smiled back, her heart heavy. He really was sweet, and had never been anything but helpful and considerate to her. She felt bad that she was causing him pain, pain she had experienced herself, as just about everyone had. She remembered how painful it had been when she'd thought Ron didn't return her feelings for him. Unfortunately, Napoleon's situation wouldn't turn out as happily as hers had.

They sipped their drinks without speaking, watching the clock on the wall as the minute hand crept towards the hour. "So...who is this woman?" Hermione finally said, not really caring but wanting to make conversation.

"Well," Terk said, thoughtful. "I don't know her last name. I think she said once that she was a professor. History?" Tax nodded. "Yeah, history. I got the impression she lived somewhere on the West Coast. Seattle, maybe, or Portland. Northwest."

Hermione nodded. "I should come here more often."

Terk frowned. "Where, Bettendorf?"

"No, America. This is only my second trip. And the first..." The bell over the door chimed. Hermione looked towards the entrance.

"That's her," Terk said, low.

The woman spotted them at once and came over, wearing a wide smile. "Terk! Tax! How the hell are you?" She shook their hands.

"We're well, thanks, Theo," Terk said. "Uh, this is Hermione Granger...and Napoleon Jones..."

"My pleasure," Theo said as she shook Hermione's hand, then Napoleon's. She sat down in the free chair. Hermione tried a smile, and it didn't hurt too much. The newcomer looked sort of lumberjack-esque. She was tall and athletic with curly auburn hair and a ruddy complexion. She was wearing jeans and a pebbly cableknit sweater. "So. What's the big emergency, and who're the civvies?"

Napoleon raised on eyebrow. "Civvies?"

"She means you're not part of the network," Terk muttered. "Well, Theo, Hermione and Napoleon are both wizards. They're on a bit of a quest and North told us we could help them. You're the only other person we know in the network. We thought you might..."

"Fair enough." She turned to Hermione. "What's this quest, then?"

Hermione put down her cocoa. "My fiance is very ill with a mysterious mental condition that came about after he went missing for two months."

Theo nodded thoughtfully. "Weird," was her only comment.

"We're looking for the Guardian."

At this, Theo sat up a little straighter and looked across at Terk and Tax, a 'what the hell?' look on her face. "Is that so? These two didn't tell me that part."

"Look, I don't know you, or much about this network. All I know is that the Guardian is somehow involved with what's happened to Harry. I must find it."

"That's the problem. No one goes looking for the Guardian. That isn't the way it works."

Hermione met her gaze steadily. "I don't care about the way it works. I will find the Guardian, with or without your help!"

"Okay, no need to wig out."

"Can you help me or not?"

Theo sat back and crossed her legs. "Yes, I think I can."

"You can take me to the Guardian?"

She smiled. "No need."

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"I am the Guardian."