Restitution

"Restitution"

by Paracelsus

Chapter 17: Discoveries

"By the time we caught up with them, the dragons were no longer flying at full speed," recited A.C. Bendick in the dull tone reserved for the fifteenth repetition of an official report. "We succeeded in distracting them, and used low-grade Stunning spells to make them sleepy. That caused their instincts to take over and they returned to their caves for the night."

Lucilla Fairbourn nodded judiciously and made yet another note on the roll of parchment in front of her. They were sitting in her office at the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures, and she had been taking copious notes as the two dragon keepers gave their report. "And this morning? How were they?"

"They're still much wilder than is safe," replied Charlie Weasley. "Only time will calm them completely. There's a limit to the spells we can use, after all... not only are dragons too powerful for a Cheering Charm to work for long, if we use charms too often the dragons will develop immunity."

"Mr. Weasley has suggested a three-month extension of his contract," A.C. said, "until the Awamotu situation stabilizes. I authorized it, subject to your approval of course. We're still shorthanded at the station, remember."

"Mm, yes." Fairbourn glanced over at Charlie's original contract with the Ministry, with the codicil hastily written at its bottom. She initialed it and slid it across the desk to Charlie. "Be careful, Mr. Weasley, or you'll end up making yourself indispensable to us," she smiled.

"Can't say I'd mind an extended stay in New Zealand," Charlie replied with a grin. Beside him, A.C. rolled her eyes and muttered something about time spent at Whare Wananga.

"We'll see how things look at the end of three months," promised Fairbourn. She paused a beat. "Any difficulties with the M.L.E. agents last night?"

A.C. shrugged. "We most of us didn't meet with them. We were on brooms when... whatever happened... happened. We saw the Opaleyes torch something on the ground, but it was too dark to see where or what it was."

"You've no idea of the location, then... but surely you must have known, Mr. Weasley. I'm given to understand that you sent the Enforcers to a mine site to gather evidence...?"

"I was able to give them a general idea of where to look," admitted Charlie. "After that, I reckon they must have zeroed in on the ground fires, courtesy of the dragons." He gave a shrug identical to A.C.'s. "But I was never told the exact location of the site. Didn't have a Need-To-Know, I suppose."

"I suppose," agreed Fairbourn. She started to ask another question, but was stopped by a faint admonition of "You're running late" sounding from her wristwatch. She glanced at it and said, "Thank you both for coming in, especially considering it's a Saturday. The Minister's requested a full briefing from all Department Heads, and your reports will help immensely."

They rose and stepped out of her office. Charlie was the last to leave, holding the door open for a moment as he glanced around the office as if checking for items he might have forgotten. He closed the door and nodded farewell to Fairbourn, who strode briskly down the corridor towards the Ministry's conference room. Charlie and A.C. began slowly walking in the opposite direction.

After a moment, A.C. commented, "You're looking worried."

"Do I? Sorry." Charlie gave her an embarrassed smile. "Just... I was asked this morning to come to a funeral, and I was wondering if there was anything in particular I should know..."

"A Maori funeral?" A.C. considered for a moment. "Don't do anything until you're invited to do so, I suppose. Bring something to eat." She shrugged. "You should ask the person who asked you to come... Anyone I know?"

"Doubtful," said Charlie briefly. They continued in silence, heading for the lunch room. Charlie was pleased he could divert A.C.'s suspicions by mentioning the funeral; he hadn't realized he looked so uneasy. He couldn't help reaching into the pocket of his robe and fingering the bit of parchment he'd prepared...

"You're up to something," said A.C. out of the blue.

"I don't know what you mean," replied Charlie, the picture of innocence.

"Pull the other one. That line you fed Fairbourn... hah! You knew exactly what was going on last night, and you knew exactly where to send the Enforcers."

"I wouldn't say exactly... I had a fair idea, that's all." A.C. eyed him in a way that reminded Charlie of a Beater choosing a target. He hastened to add, "Besides, if I was up to something, I'd hardly be doing it in the Ministry of Magic, would I?"

*

Harry watched as various Department Heads filed into the conference room, giving him not-so-furtive glances before taking their seats. He tried to maintain an impassive exterior, but he was nervous inside as he looked around the room... he had to force himself to pay no special attention to the empty space behind Rewa Otimi's chair.

Last into the room was Minister of Magic Tucker, who took her seat at the head of the table. Her regal gaze swept over the assembly as she began, "I would like to thank you all for coming today on such short notice. I've called this special meeting at the request of Mr. Otimi, our Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Mr. Otimi?"

"Thank you, Minister. As most of you know, in the last month New Zealand has seen a sudden upsurge in the number of Dark magic incidents." By the way he and Tucker had spoken, they seemed to know they were speaking 'for the record.' Sure enough, Harry heard a skritch, skritch in one corner of the room... a quick glance confirmed that an enchanted quill was transcribing the proceedings. They'll have to take care what they say, came his satisfied thought, followed by the dismayed So will I.

Otimi lifted a sheaf of parchment from the table in front of him and handed it to the wizard on his left. "I've prepared some briefing sheets... please take one and pass them on, thank you. As I was saying, given the seriousness of the situation, I thought it best that all Department Heads be made aware of what's happening, and what's being done."

"A moment, Mr. Otimi," Tucker said in a frostily formal tone. "If this meeting is called in order that Department Heads might be kept apprised, I would ask for what purpose Mr. Potter is here." She met Harry's eyes and added forbiddingly, "I was under the impression that we had dispensed with Mr. Potter's services."

"Mr. Potter's here at my invitation, Minister," replied Otimi before Harry could say anything. "Since he's been instrumental in our investigations - including the captures of all suspects currently in custody - I felt he should be available to answer any questions that might come up." He looked around the room, saw that everyone had a briefing sheet, and began again. "As you'll see in the reports before you, we've had a series of murders in the last three weeks. Initially, the lack of curse residuals led the M.L.E. to consider makutu, implying a Dark wizard or wizards..."

Otimi gave a brief synopsis of the case up through the murder of Nana Pohuhu and the kidnapping of her granddaughter. "She was being used by the Dark wizards to find the source of crystalline pounamu," he finished. "Mr. Potter rescued her, capturing the leader of the Dark wizards. Mr. Potter?"

Harry blinked at being invited to speak. He'd carefully prepared some remarks, though, just in case... "Three of the Dark wizards were killed by the dragons of Awamotu... in the process, sealing up the pounamu mine. I kept the wands of the three men killed, and I have an appointment after this meeting to go through the M.L.E. photorecords and try to identify them."

"And the Dark leader?" asked one of the Heads... of International Cooperation, if Harry recalled right.

"A British citizen named Draco Malfoy," Harry answered. "He's not yet regained consciousness, but Mr. Otimi has him in cells nonetheless. A medical cell," he allowed as an afterthought.

"We've traced the ownership of the equipment found at the mine site," supplied Otimi. "All Malfoy's. Together with his presence at the mine, and the testimony of the kidnap victim, we're confident of obtaining a conviction when it comes to trial."

"Then this pounamu mine..." began the Head.

"Was the reason for most of the murders," said Harry. "The murder victims were either about to discover the existence of the mine, or in at least one case, its location. The exception was Nana Pohuhu, who was killed..." He swallowed painfully. "Was killed for strategic reasons."

Not your fault, boy, came the faintest of whispers to his ear. Harry shook his head ever so slightly, and the whisper faded.

"Master Torohanga, the Headmaster at Te Whare Wananga, has been studying the bits of pure pounamu we've recovered," said Otimi. "It turns out to be extraordinarily dangerous, even in friendly hands. In the wrong hands, of course, its use would be devastating. Master Torohanga believes a Fidelius Charm should be cast to hide the location of the mine, if not the fact of its existence."

"A Fidelius Charm?" said Tucker sharply. "There is surely no need for such an extreme measure! It would prevent legitimate use of the pounamu should it ever become necessary...!"

Harry raised a finger to get her attention. "If there were only one uranium mine on Earth," he said carefully, "and sealing it away forever would prevent the spread of nuclear weapons - wouldn't you do it?" He saw several of the Heads nodding in agreement, and suppressed a smile. Hermione had provided him with the argument, insisting it would be effective... and as usual, Hermione was right.

"In the end," Otimi went on, "we decided to place the mine's location under Fidelius, but not the fact of its existence. We would hardly be able to prosecute Malfoy otherwise."

"The Headmaster will be the Secret Keeper, of course," Harry put in. "He knows more about the properties of pounamu than anyone else, he's had experience in recognizing Dark attacks that might require breaking the Fidelius - and his integrity is above reproach." This time it was Harry who locked gazes with Tucker. Her cheeks turned slightly pink as she pinched her lips together, but she voiced no objection.

"When will this Fidelius Charm be completed?" Fairbourn asked.

"It's a pretty complicated spell to construct," Harry replied. "We'll probably have it ready to cast this evening. By this time tomorrow, with any luck, the location of the pounamu mine will be gone from everyone's memory."

"Then what remains to be done?" asked another Head, whom Harry didn't recognize. "You're sealing the greenstone mine, you have all the suspects in custody..."

"Not all," said Otimi, turning grim. "Something Mr. Potter hinted at, a day or two ago, got me to thinking. It now seems likely that one of the Dark wizards we're seeking... is an employee here at the Ministry of Magic."

Stunned silence greeted this announcement. "Mr. Otimi," Minister Tucker finally said, "are you seriously suggesting...?"

"Someone let out that Mr. Potter and I would be at the Pohuhu flat last week," Otimi told the room. "It's likely that the informant is a member of my own Department. Over the next few days I'll be interviewing each of my agents, under Veritaserum if I must, until the informant is found."

"And if the informant isn't found in your Department?" came the question.

"Then you should all be aware that I will be interviewing in other Departments... and that this will continue until the informant is found," said Otimi with finality. "I tell you this as a courtesy, with the understanding that it will be kept confidential. Please do not inform your own people of this... there's no point in spreading unnecessary suspicion. And as I said, the person we want is most likely in Magical Law Enforcement anyway."

"Then I hope your efforts bear fruit quickly," said Tucker, standing to show that the meeting was over. She waited at the conference table as the attendees filed out of the room, intercepting Otimi and Harry as they moved past her. A quick flick of her wand caused the quill in the corner to cease recording.

"Have you any idea of what you've done?" she asked Otimi in glacial accents. "Sowing mistrust... proposing 'interviews' with Veritaserum...! We don't need a black cloud hanging over the Ministry, not now when we should be pulling together." She tapped her fingers on the table furiously. "Moreover, I didn't appreciate having that bombshell dropped on me as you did. At the very least, Mr. Otimi, I ought to have had some warning."

"It only occurred to me this morning, Minister," said Otimi unapologetically. "There was no time to tell you, or anyone, before the meeting - but I think you'll agree it's something all Department Heads should know."

She didn't answer this, but turned her imperious gaze on Harry. "And I must say, Mr. Potter, I am displeased by the degree to which you've involved yourself in our internal affairs. I thought I had made it quite clear to you that..."

"That my services were no longer required, yeah," agreed Harry amiably. "But that's the nice thing about being an 'unofficial consultant.' If you didn't hire me, you can't fire me." He smiled and added, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to look at some photographs..." And ignoring her sputtering, he walked with Otimi down the corridor and out of sight.

*

There was only one telephone in the New Zealand Ministry of Magic, mostly for those cases when Muggles - the parent of a Muggle-born student, for instance, or perhaps the Prime Minister - needed to contact someone in the Ministry. It was kept in the most remote room in the Ministry, the visitor's waiting room, so that the magic in the offices wouldn't affect it.

Few wizards or witches seemed to know that the telephone could also be used for outgoing calls.

One who did know now entered the waiting room. A quick glance around the room confirmed privacy, then the receiver was lifted from the phone and a nine-digit number was dialed. There were a few moments of clicks and beeps before a flat mechanical voice sounded in the receiver: "Please record your message."

Two more digits were dialed, a special code for emergency use only. "Thank you," said the mechanical voice, and the dial tone sounded again. The caller hung up the phone quickly, as if afraid of contamination by Muggle technology, and proceeded out of the Ministry.

*

In the M.L.E. Records room, Harry sighed as he closed a book of photographs and opened another. The Enforcers had identified the makeup of the wands of the three unfortunate men who'd died at the mine site: oak with dragon heartstring, laurel with unicorn hair, and a kauri wand with taniwha tendon, a very Kiwi wand indeed. That wand's owner had been easy to trace; the other two each had multiple candidates. From their files the Enforcers had compiled a set of photos of all the possibles; now Harry was slogging through them, trying to recognize the faces of the men he'd fought.

The good news was that he'd been able to eliminate about two-thirds of the possibles in the first pass. The bad news was that, if the true owners had had no run-ins with Magical Law Enforcement, their photos might not even be here.

The back of Harry's head was itching, and he resisted the urge to scratch. He was uneasy, he didn't want to be here, but there was no help for it. This was the plan they'd devised that morning, he and his friends. The others had their parts to play, and this was his part: to sit here, conspicuously visible in the Ministry, and convince the mole that he wasn't leaving any time soon.

It wasn't a role he relished. Harry had many virtues, but the ability to sit on his hands and wait for events was decidedly not one of them.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and looked up from the photos to see Randy, Otimi's aide, standing at his side. "Uh, excuse me, Mr. Potter," he said deferentially. "The International courier arrived a few minutes ago... she brought this for you from London." He offered Harry a thick envelope.

"Thanks," said Harry, taking it. "Does this mean the local Apparition Point is back on the Beam again?"

Randy shook his head. "No sir, not yet. The Floo Network should be back in full service tonight, though. It's already accepting Floo calls." He nodded at the photo books. "Any luck?"

"Well, I can definitely tell you who they weren't... I'm still working on who they were." Harry knew he shouldn't ask the next question on his mind... he compensated by making it sound as casual as possible. "Have you seen Charlie Weasley around in the last few minutes?"

"Think he might be in the lunch room. If I see him, I'll tell him you're looking for him." Randy looked as though he were about to bow to Harry, but instead gave him a quick nod before leaving.

Harry watched him go, then opened the envelope. It was from Tonks, and consisted of a sheaf of parchments with a note in her spidery handwriting: Harry. Thought I'd nip these to you when no one was looking. They're the Auror summaries of Serpentard Mining's corporate records. Darcy took a team to raid Serpentard - thanks for letting us know about Malfoy in NZ - but found no evidence of Death Eater activity. None of the records make sense, it's like something from the goblins' accounting classes. It'll take a while to sort through this mess. Maybe you'll have better luck. Tonks.

A quick skim of the summaries confirmed Tonks's worries. Serpentard's corporate records were a wonderful example of financial double-speak. Evidently, Serpentard Ltd. was owned by two or three other corporations, each of which seemed to be holding companies owned by other corporations... some of which seemed to hold shares in each other. Tracing convergence to identify the actual owners would, indeed, take a while.

I shouldn't have expected so neat a solution, Harry thought dismally. He leafed through the parchments and found copies of each company's end-of-year profit statements. He tried to make sense of them, but found himself flipping back and forth from page to page... 5% share of a 27% holding of the first, 11% share of a 44% holding of the second...

Maths is definitely not my strong suit. I should leave this for the experts. Harry was about to slide the sheaf back into the envelope when he caught himself noticing the letterheads. Each company listed the names of their Boards of Directors on the profit statements... and Harry saw some names on more than one Board.

He took a quill and began marking up the names, keeping tally of each name and how often it appeared on a letterhead. When he was finished, he had a list of four names that cropped up most frequently. This doesn't prove that these are the owners, he reminded himself. That'll take a lot more digging... but it stands to reason that the owners would want a say in every aspect of their holdings.

He ran his eye down the names again. Amelia Bredon. Augustus Quinnett. Leonard Cavendish. Sir Michael Erpingham. Respected names in the wizarding community... and none of them were on Harry's memorized list of Death Eaters. I'll bet Tonks has already thought of checking the letterheads... but I'll send her these names anyway. It's a start.

Putting the envelope aside, Harry tried to concentrate on the photos in front of him. But his thoughts kept flitting back to Tonks's packet... and the list of names he'd compiled. Of course, if they weren't Death Eaters, they could have Apparated to New Zealand quite innocently. We'd never know. Ron wouldn't have found their names, I only gave him the names of known Death Eaters... known Death Eaters...

Of a sudden he was scrabbling at the envelope, dumping its contents onto the table, staring at his list of four names again. How could I have been so blind!? And that day at the Ministry - of course! It was her! Sweet Merlin, I have to warn the others...

Really? How?

The thought brought him to an abrupt halt. He had no choice, he had to stay here in the Ministry... to convince their quarry that Harry wasn't in pursuit. But I have to warn them! They don't know who they may be facing - what they may be facing!! Bugger the plan, I need to find Charlie...

I am neither a child nor an incompetent, Harry Potter. Hermione's words rang in his memory. Harry decided he really had too many voices in his head these days... but he'd always listened to this one. He closed his eyes and sat perfectly motionless for a long minute, breathing deeply.

We came up with a plan. We all worked it out together this morning. I can't just abandon the plan because I feel like it. I have my bit to do... and I have to trust the others to do their bits. If I want them to ever trust me, I have to trust them. That's the plan.

The plan stinks.

*

In a featureless, anonymous room, two robed figures waited with a semblance of patience. One was seated in a plush chair, while the other, larger figure stood subserviently behind the chair. Glamours disguised their identities, but the tension they felt could not be hidden.

With an echoing c-c-crack! a third robed figure materialized in the room. She hadn't taken the time to prepare a glamour, and in any case the seated figure already knew her identity. "My lord," she gasped as she stepped forward, "I beg your help..."

"Compose yourself, Lucilla," soothed the seated figure. "We can't help you until you tell us all the details. Is this to do with our leader's capture last night?"

Lucilla Fairbourn nodded jerkily. Her face was splotchy from distress. "They've identified him..."

"No names, please," said the seated figure calmly, raising a hand.

"Yes... he's still unconscious, but he's under medical care and it's only a matter of time before they're able to question him."

"Mmm. We'll have to take steps to remove him from their tender care before then. Lucilla, tell me again about your access to..."

"I can't! You don't understand! They suspect me!"

The seated figure sat sharply upright, no longer as calm as before. "What's this?"

Fairbourn wrung her hands. "It was announced today. Potter and Te Matorohanga are putting a Fidelius Charm on the location of the mine - tonight! And Otimi has begun a search for an 'informant' in the Ministry! He's starting with his own Department, but sooner or later he'll come to me..."

"Let him." The seated figure smiled triumphantly.

"But you don't understand. He's using Veritaserum! And I'm the one Roark talked to about the dragons, I'm the one who sent the invitation to Weasley, I'm..."

"Let him, I say," her leader repeated. "We've prepared for this contingency, Lucilla. Just as we prepared for the Aurors raiding Serpentard's headquarters - as though I'd leave anything there for them to find!" Reaching into an inner pocket, the leader brought out a small stone dish. Removing its cover revealed shining white fluid filling the dish to its brim; the leader held the dish carefully as though it might spill.

"Have you ever seen a Pensieve, Lucilla? I've a larger one at home, where I keep the memories that might prove... embarrassing... should some overzealous lawman decide to probe my mind. All my information on the greenstone mine is safely stored there - including, of course, its location. We need only wait for the Fidelius Charm to be cast, then I'll restore my memories." The leader set the Pensieve on the table. "This mini-Pensieve is for you. We'll simply transfer your troublesome memories into it, and use a Memory Charm on you to make sure they're gone. Then let Otimi interrogate you! Let him use Veritaserum! You'll be safe... trust in me, Lucilla. I take care of my servants."

"Thank you, my lord." Fairbourn seemed much calmer, now that she felt herself to be in safe hands. "How is it done?"

"Come over here, we'll do it now." The leader stood and summoned Fairbourn with a gesture. Fairbourn obediently stepped forward as her leader drew out a wand. "Now concentrate on the memories we wish to hide, Lucilla... the day I first contacted you, the information you passed on to us... that's right..." The tip of the wand was brought to Fairbourn's temple, then paused.

"Lucilla... there's some other spell on you already. I don't recognize it, but..." The leader whirled suddenly and brandished the wand at the empty part of the room. "Aparecium!"

Even as a shimmering on the far wall marked the cancellation of a Disillusioning Charm, another voice shouted "Petrificus Totalus!" The three robed figures at the end of the room froze in position, as Hermione's form became visible. She stood cautiously for a moment, waiting to be sure all was safe, before walking forward.

"And Charlie said his Tracer spell wouldn't be noticed," she sighed. She pocketed a folded bit of parchment, upon which a dot labeled "Lucilla Fairbourn" could still be seen, and brought out a small pouch of powder.

Hermione looked more closely at the three frozen figures, then smiled grimly at the one who'd spoken to Fairbourn. "It's a nice glamour, Pansy, but you needn't've bothered. Once I knew Malfoy was one of the chief Death Eaters here, it was obvious to me that you must be his partner. How many people are rich enough to buy a mining company but still willing to work with Draco Malfoy?" She waved her wand as she cast an "Aparecium!" spell of her own. The glamours faded, revealing Pansy Parkinson Quinnett's furious face and that of a large man she didn't recognize.

She cupped her left hand and blue flames sprang up from her palm. With her right hand, Hermione prepared to sprinkle a bit of her special Floo powder into the flame, to call the Enforcers to this spot...

"No," said Pansy, her voice like honeyed venom. "I don't think so."

A sudden strong breeze blew out the flames. Hermione looked up in shock to see Pansy smiling broadly, completely unaffected by the Full-Body Bind. She stretched her arms behind her head, flipping her hair to display a pair of bright emerald earrings...

Not emerald! Hermione realized too late. Pounamu!

The power of Pansy's Legilimency smashed through her mind, scorching her brain cells, ripping out memories for public display: the sight of the basilisk's yellow eyes in the mirror... she and Ron screaming at the tops of their lungs following the Yule Ball... Harry staggering out of the maze with Cedric Diggory's body... a spike of purple flame piercing her chest... the awful days following Harry's death at Voldemort's hand...

None of Harry's descriptions of Legilimency had prepared her for this agony... and unlike Harry, she had no defenses whatsoever. She'd never trained to meet this form of attack, and the raw power behind it would have been hard to beat even with training.

Hermione found herself face-down on the floor, gasping painfully, her hands contracted into claws from the torture. She tried to lift her head as Pansy walked over to her and picked up her wand from the floor. "Fairbourn, use this to remove her Tracer spell from you. I don't want anyone else tracking you down." Pansy didn't wait for Fairbourn's acknowledgment, but leaned over Hermione's prostrate body. There was no pain this time, but Hermione could feel the tendrils of magic slithering through her mind again...

"So you Disillusioned yourself and stood near Fairbourn as Potter made his grand announcement," she said after a moment. "You waited for Fairbourn to panic and contact me, then followed her with that Tracer spell. Anyone else? ... Yes, I see. Weasley watching Otimi, Weaselette watching Tucker. All your suspects shadowed. You always were the clever one, Granger... but you were an idiot to come here alone. Mobilicorpus."

Hermione felt her body jerked erect, in a cruel parody of standing up. She was floating upright an inch or so from the floor, as Pansy stood in front of her with that broad smile still on her face. Without warning, she backhanded Hermione in the face with her clenched fist. The blood that oozed from Hermione's mouth made her smile even more broadly.

"You do realize, don't you Granger, that I'm going to take every last thought from you... everything you ever learned, every last memory, every idea, every hope, every dream." Solicitously, Pansy reached out a finger and wiped the blood from Hermione's chin. "Does that scare you? ...Yes, I see it does. I can see very clearly now, darling, you're quite scared. You worked so hard to fill that brain of yours, and without it you're nothing."

Pansy patted Hermione's cheek as though she were petting a dog. "Nothing," she repeated. "Which is what you've always been, you filthy little Mudblood."

"You..." Hermione coughed blood and said hoarsely, "You have got to come up with some new material."

"Not to worry," purred Pansy in delight. "In a minute, I'll have all of yours." She took a small step back; though she still held her wand, she didn't bother to raise it. Rather, she shook her hair back again to display the pounamu earrings. She brought her gaze back to Hermione's face...

"Expelliarmus!" "Stupefy!"

Pansy spun in horror to see Hermione's wand knocked from Fairbourn's hand, while her large assistant fell to the floor unconscious. The room was suddenly full of people: Ron Weasley, Charlie Weasley, and Rewa Otimi. They all had their wands pointed at Pansy; Charlie was holding a parchment with a dot labeled "Hermione Granger."

The fact had barely time to register before Pansy felt a foot smash into her stomach. Hermione might be dangling in midair, but Mobilicorpus wasn't the Full-Body Bind, and though every limb ached, she had full use of them. "I didn't come alone, you utter cow," she muttered, before she shouted, "She's armed with greenstone! She doesn't need a wand!"

Ron nodded and raised his wand quickly as Pansy recovered from the kick. "Stupefy!" he shouted, but it was too late. Pansy managed to erect a Shield around herself with a sweep of her wand, and the Stunner was deflected away. At the same instant, Charlie stepped next to Hermione and set up a Shield to protect them both; in another second, Ron and Otimi had used the Shield Charm as well.

For a few nerve-stretching seconds, no one moved. "You can't attack us without lowering your own shield," growled Otimi at last. "And no matter how much power you've got, the odds are still in our favor."

Pansy's eyes flicked from one attacker to the next, seeking escape. "And you've cast an Anti-Apparition Jinx on me, I suppose? To keep me from leaving?"

"Well, duh," said Ron.

With a tight little smile, Pansy replied, "Spells can be broken, Red. Lumos solaris!"

Dazzling white light erupted, filling the room and leaving them disoriented. Instinctively, Otimi blindly fired a "Stupefy!" spell, but they could hear it strike the far wall. After a moment, the light faded... and Pansy Quinnett was gone.

"Finite Incantatem," said Charlie, waving his wand over Hermione, and she collapsed against his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"I think..." Hermione moved her jaw tenderly. "I think I lost a tooth." She felt her whole body trembling, and would have liked nothing better than to lie down in her bed and give way to the shakes - but now wasn't the time. She willed herself into steadiness as she looked at Otimi. "Not that I'm not happy to see you here, but how..."

"He spotted me," said Ron unhappily. "After we left the big meeting. Stands to reason he's been trained to spot people hiding under a Disillusion Charm, doesn't it?" Ron made a slicing motion with his hand to demonstrate how he'd been revealed. "I had to explain what was going on. After that, we hooked up with Charlie just in time to see your dot and Fairbourn's Apparate on his Locaro maps."

"And when Fairbourn's dot vanished from the map," said Charlie, "we knew something was wrong. We came as soon as we could..."

"And it's just as well I came with them," finished Otimi with a humorless smile, "since I can lend official legitimacy to this... let's call it a citizens' arrest and let it go at that."

Hermione gave them all a smile, though inwardly she still felt ill. "Harry? Ginny?" she asked.

"Ginny's still shadowing Minister Tucker," said Charlie. "They're off to some ribbon-cutting ceremony, I think. We didn't have time to fetch Harry... I wish now we had."

"Indeed," said Otimi shortly. His eyes raked over Fairbourn, shakily standing in a corner and trying to maintain an air of dignity. "I never would have thought it of you, Lucilla," he told her quietly.

Fairbourn drew a deep breath and met Otimi's gaze. "This is the future, Rewa. This is about survival. You can join us, or you can go extinct." She lifted her chin. "You know what I'm talking about, Rewa. There are no full-blooded Maori left... how soon before there are no full-blooded wizards?"

Otimi flicked his wand, and ropes shot out of its end to encircle Fairbourn and the unconscious man. Otimi walked up to Fairbourn until his face was inches from hers. "I'm Maori," he said in a very soft voice that was perfectly audible by all. "And I'm a wizard. And my blood's just fine, thank you for asking."

He turned away from her abruptly and pulled a square scrap of parchment from his pocket. "Mr. Weasley, if you'll Apparate back to the M.L.E.? Give them this..." He tapped the parchment with his wand; it gave a faint glow, and he handed it to Ron. "...to prove I sent you, and bring back some agents to pick up the prisoners. Thank you."

Ron nodded and Disapparated. Otimi turned to Hermione, still leaning on Charlie for support. "Ms. Granger, are you sure you're all right? You look a little off..."

That was an understatement. Hermione was still suffering from reaction to the physical attack on her, but the attack on her mind tormented her more. Pansy had been very shrewd in her assessment: Hermione had spent her life building her mind, and she'd considered it to be sacrosanct until today. Its vulnerability left her feeling terrified.

Now Hermione was busy probing her own memories... trying to see what had been stolen. She looked for any damaged or blurred areas... valuable information lost to her forever... but how could she tell? If her mind had been altered, would she be able to see it? How would she ever be able to know how badly she'd been violated...?

"I'm fine," she said, giving Otimi and Charlie a very convincing smile. "Fine."