Chapter Text
November 08, 2007
Irish Ministry of Magic
Limerick, Ireland
Ron Weasley paced the length of the office of the Irish Minister of Magic. His restless gait and his tensely set shoulders gave away his anxious demeanor. He was like a live wire, his nerve endings on fire and his vision tunneled. He was like a raging hippogriff and the other people present in the grand office gave him a wide berth. It was evident that something had rattled him.
But what, one might ask?
Well, the thing that had perturbed him so much was the innocuous letter lying on the desk, which was currently being occupied by the British Minister of Magic. The unassuming piece of parchment looked to be so innocent, yet was hiding deepest vitriol Ron had ever seen written on paper. He had half a mind to send an incendio at the offending paper, but he knew it was a vital evidence and shouldn't be tampered with. But Merlin was it tempting.
He turned his flaming blue eyes on the Minister of Magic. "I told you not to bow down to those assholes Kingsley. Now, see what happened!" he yelled accusatorily.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley, your reservations about the last correspondence were well registered. That doesn't mean that what we did was wrong. Bureaucracy doesn't work like that," the Minister replied tiredly.
"It was not wrong?!" screeched the redhead auror. "Well if it wasn't wrong, then why are the hostages not home yet? Oh that's right, because terrorists do not have a moral code and are not always inclined to keep their word!"
"Ron, please —" the Minister beseeched the auror to calm down. "I know what you want, what we all want. And believe me, I want to do it too, but I can't, and you very well know why. There are about hundred lives on the line here..." the Minister trailed off.
Kingsley let out a deep-suffering sigh, and scrubbed a hand down his face. His eyes felt like they had sand in them, his hearing was partially gone from all the yelling his ears had suffered through, and his body felt like it belonged to a wizard in his hundreds or two hundreds, rather than a young wizard in his later forties. It seemed he had aged several decades in the last week. Being the Minister of magic at a time like this was probably the worst card any wizard could be dealt. Kingsley cursed his luck. It should've been a time of peace and prosperity. Conversely, it was a rather tumultuous time not just for the British Wizarding society, but for a lot of other nations as well.
Lord Voldemort may have been long dead, but the after-effects of his ephemeral but iniquitous reign were being felt even today. He had opened the world up to the idea that Wizarding societies could be swayed and subdued with terror and schismatic beliefs. The fact that the British Ministry of Magic had been infiltrated so effortlessly was fresh in everyone's mind. In the wake of Lord Voldemort's death, there was a power vacuum. Dark wizards in every corner of the globe were clamoring for power in their countries. Most wizarding governments had tightened security and kept a closer eye on their citizens to halt any violent sedition as soon as possible. Still, that had not deterred some of the more hardcore dark wizards. Some had formed their own terror outfits like the deatheaters, and had been wreaking havoc on wizarding societies across the globe.
One such group was the 'Silent Snake'. They had surfaced in the States about 2 years after Lord Voldemort's defeat, but after not finding much success in their own country, had shifted their focus to the wizarding societies in Europe. They were responsible for multiple coordinated attacks across the continent. They would sow seeds of chaos to destabilize the governments and then demand something from the government in exchange for stopping their shenanigans. This extortion had worked exceptionally well for them, and the group had become notorious for their antics. There were multiple arrest warrants for many of their known leaders, but so far the Silent Snakes had evaded capture, even when they were not so silent in their evil schemes. Only a handful of low-level Snakes had ever been caught in different countries, but they were too inconsequential to provide any valuable information.
About two months ago, the Silent Snakes had made their way to the British wizarding world. Their first crime had been relatively simple – seizing control of a legal potions manufacturing unit and selling the potions at ridiculous markup. The Ministry had not paid much attention to it, as the owner had quickly taken back his complaint. This had appeared to emboldened the Snakes and they kept up their antics.
Then, about a week and half ago, the Snakes had upped their game, and in the process, had taken Britain by storm.
Ten days ago, Hermione Granger, one of the most talented researchers in Britain, had travelled, along with a delegation of other researchers, healers and bureaucrats, to Ireland. Accompanying the researchers were a group of aurors, lead by none other than the Savior of the Wizarding World – Harry Potter. This was supposed to be a routine trip, just a gathering of academicians from the two countries to engage in discussions on several topics and flex their nerdiness over everyone else. The 2-day excursion was intended to be a simple, friendly visit to foster and maintain good relations between the two nations. Visits like these were doubly important after the Irish Ministry of Magic had split from the British Ministry five years ago. The security measures for this event were not lax by any means, but they weren't top-notch either. Moreover, since the event had been scheduled at a muggle hotel, wards were pretty basic. The officials were just not expecting any trouble at all.
Except trouble had found them.
When the after-party was in full swing at the Elysium Hotel in Dublin, members of the Silent Snake had arrived and easily subdued the few aurors present at the event. The other guests, most of whom were heavily inebriated, couldn't provide much help and soon, the congregation of more than a hundred people was under the control of the dark wizards. They had quickly confiscated the wands of all the party-goers, and set up anti-apparation wards. Within hours, news had leaked out of the attack and the subsequent hostage situation.
The Wizarding governments of both the countries sprang into action, and Ministry officials swarmed the place. But the Snakes had come fully prepared; they had closed off all access points of the hotel. No one could go in, no one could go out.
In a truly sinister stroke of genius, the Snakes had come bearing an army of Inferi. The purported leader of the Snakes had reportedly been a Necromancer. Now, it seemed that fact was more or less confirmed. The Inferi had surrounded the hostages from all sides and had cut off any hope of escape or rescue.
Once it was clear that the Snakes had full control of all the hostages, the Ministries of the UK and Ireland and a few other nations whose citizens had been among those taken hostage in the hotel, had established communication channels with the Snakes to listen to their demands.
For full two days, there had been radio silence on the Snakes' part. They didn't respond to any sort of communication by the negotiation teams. Then on the third day, they sent a patronus stating that they wanted to talk to someone in charge in the highest departments of the Ministries.
Six people – Gavin Robards from Britain, Evan McPherson from Ireland, Josh Thunderbolt from Scotland, Adrian Miller from the USA, Svetlana Burkovic from Russia and Nancy Vance from Germany were selected as the representatives from their respective Ministries. All of these people were high up in the administrative ladder in their respective governments.
When the negotiations began, it was clear that the Snakes were negotiating in bad faith. Initially, their demands were small, as if they were testing the waters. Their first dictated term had been a thousand galleons, to be promptly delivered by the Irish Minister of Magic himself. Before conceding though, the six negotiators demanded a proof of life for all the hostages. The Snakes had refused at first, but when it had been made clear to them there would be no more negotiations if they remained firm in their defiance, they reluctantly agreed. One of the dark wizard performed a simple homenum revelio, which revealed there were 143 people in that building.
That number was significant for the Ministry officials. There were an estimated 102 people who had been present at the symposium, including the staff of the hotel. Which meant that there were, at minimum, 40 Snakes in the building. 40 dark wizards at the same time and place was never a good news.
There was no intel on the number of Inferi in the building, which provided an additional challenge. While the Inferi were slow, they were quite dangerous, especially if the necromancer controlling them was powerful enough. Nonetheless, now the Ministry officials had a rough idea of what they were dealing with.
Knowing the extent of the danger did not bring them any closer to rescuing the hostages. The hotel building had been well protected by the Snakes. In fact, they had turned the hotel to a damn fortress, it's wards impenetrable. There was no way to launch a rescue. Even if they somehow made it into the building, the army of Inferi would be waiting for them. So at the moment, they had no other choice but to play ball with the Snakes.
And that's exactly what they had been doing.
Five days ago, the Snakes had put forward their first stipulation. They had asked for the broken remains of the Elder Wand – the wand which had once belonged to Gellert Grindelwald, and later to Albus Dumbledore.
The British Ministry had tried to discourage the demand, citing ethical reasons for not wanting to ransack the former headmaster's grave. But the Snakes were relentless. So in return, the Ministry had asked for the release of at least 20 hostages – specially the elderly, and the sick or injured, as there were sure to be some injuries when a group of aurors had faced off against dark wizards. The Snakes had agreed, and Kingsley himself had delivered the broken wand to a young wizard who had appeared at the main gate of the hotel.
However, as everyone knows, dark wizards have no honor. So in a cruel twist, the Snakes had refused to keep their word and no hostages were released, even when the six appointed negotiators insisted.
And that was how Kingsley found himself facing the wrath of Ronald Weasley, one third of the famous trio of War heroes. Kingsley could sympathize with Ron, whose family was in the middle of the danger. His former girlfriend, Hermione Granger and his brother-in-law, Harry Potter were among the hostages. Any man in a similar situation would be anguished. However, what Kingsley saw in Ron was more than just torment. There was a fire raging just beneath his veneer of slight anxiousness.
As much as he was loathe to do, Kingsley tried to pacify the redhead auror.
"Ron listen to me, at the moment, we have no other choice than to follow the directions of those wizards. Otherwise we would have no hope of ever getting back our fine wizards and witches," the Minister repeated the words he had already spoken aloud to hundreds of people since the past ten days.
"Well that choice is unacceptable to me Kingsley. I can't sit quietly while my family is out there, sitting ducks in the face of danger. To hell with your bureaucracy! I'm going to do all it takes to bring them back," with that, Ron stormed out of the Minister's personal chambers at the Ministry.
Ron had just turned a corner, when he collided with a person coming round. The books and parchment in the man's hands crashed to the floor. Ron was just beginning to apologize and help the man with his things, when he noticed a sealed Ministry envelope lying on the floor. Ron's eyes widened as he spotted the envelope. These weren't the standard envelopes used by the Irish Ministry; these envelope and parchments had been issued specially for this particular mission. Which meant that another missive had arrived.
Or rather, another demand had been made.
Ron gnashed his teeth in anger, and looked at the person who he had slammed into.
Adrian Miller was a young American healer whose mother had been among the group taken hostage by the Silent Snakes. He had been busy with his research when news broke of the situation, and he had immediately portkeyed to Ireland. He was a soft-spoken man, though he had the build of a bodybuilder. After much begging and arguing, he had been included in the team of negotiators. Ron could swear he could see the same fire that he felt in himself reflected in Miller's eyes. He decided to intercept the American before he could reach the Minister's office.
"Miller. What do you have there?" he asked the man.
"Weasley. Another one of those damned things arrived today. Those bastards are becoming greedier by the day," the young man replied solemnly.
"What did they ask for this time?" Ron wanted to know.
"Oh nothing much. Just all the ruined fragments of the objects oldy Voldy used as his horcruxes."
Ron felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. "Wha– what? Why would they want those things for?"
"Beats me, man. I'm not really an expert on what those fuckers want," Miller sighed tiredly.
"You don't think —" Ron began before he stopped. He continued his thought when Miller encouraged him to do so.
"I'm not an expert on them either, but I'm guessing they want something nefarious with all those horcruxes. Maybe they want to bring oldy Voldy back to life."
Miller exhaled at this. "Why would they want that? They were not even devoted to him. They have publicly bashed him multiple times."
"Don't know man. But it feels like an awful coincidence that they want all the horcruxes. They're not even horcruxes anymore. They're just shattered objects which were once tainted with dark magic. Only someone really devoted to Voldemort would care for those artifacts anymore."
Miller ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. "Fuck man! This is not good. Another group of fanatics."
"No it's not good," Ron agreed.
With that, the two men lapsed into silence, each lost in their thoughts. Eventually, Miller started moving towards his original destination, but before he could, Ron interrupted him.
"Miller, does the MACUSA have any information on the Snakes? Who are the members? Anything at all?" Ron asked a little desperately.
The young blonde sighed. "Unfortunately, no. They were active in the States for such a short time, that no one took them seriously. When they finally became the menace that they are today, they were well out of the grasp of our authorities. Although —" he hesitated for a second before he continued. "— I think I know one wizard who is an alleged member of the Snakes."
Ron took a sharp inhale. He didn't know why he did what he did next, but there was something inherently trustworthy about the young blonde. "Miller, meet me at the Verve this evening at 7. I think there are some things we should discuss."
Miller nodded and then left.
Ron flew to the British Ministry of Magic, from where he made his way back home where his family was waiting anxiously for some news of their missing loved ones.
x-----x
Same evening
The Verve
Dublin, Ireland
Ron knocked back a glass of firewhiskey as he sat in a booth shadowed in an alcove in the grand wizarding pub. He checked his watch and sneered. Miller was late. By over 30 minutes. Damn Americans and their perpetual lack of punctuality! He was considering going back to his home when the bell at the door tinkled as a frazzled tall blonde wizard walked in and hurried towards his booth.
"Miller, you're la—" he began but was cut off.
"Save it Weasley. I know I'm late but it was important."
Ron was irritated at the callous attitude of the younger man and was about to give him an earful when Miller's next words made his irritation dissipate like the morning dew.
"I might've found a way inside that damn building," Miller said as he gestured a waiter to take his order.
Ron was dumbfounded but held his tongue till the waiter came back with Miller's order. The young blonde took a large gulp of his drink and relished the burn going down his throat before he graced Ron with a look.
Ron finally found his voice. "What is the way inside that building?"
"Not a what, but a who," Miller replied. At Ron's confused face, he continued. "Do you remember when I told you that I might know a potential member of the Snakes? Well, it turns out I was right. There was this guy who went with me to Uni. We both enrolled in the Benedictine University for our mastery in Charms and Transfiguration. He and I were not friends, but we knew each other well enough, as we were in the same classes. We had plenty of conversations. He had always struck me as an odd sort of fellow."
"Odd how?" Ron asked.
"Well he was kind of infatuated with the dark arts. Even when we were studying relatively harmless charms or spells, he always found a way to make them dark and creepy. Like when we were taught how to transfigure a simple cloth fabric into those absorbent bandages used by St. Mungo's that stop the bleeding completely, he was fascinated with that, which is understandable I guess. But then the next day, he rolls up to the class and declares that he has figured out a way to do the opposite. In that, he could transfigure the absorbent bandage to continuously siphon out blood from the body. He just casually demonstrated that on himself. It was so unhinged that the professor actually deducted his grade for unnecessary violence. I was told that such incidents were aplenty in his two years at the Uni. After he graduated, he just dropped off the face of the earth. No one heard from him. He didn't apply for any jobs anywhere as far as I know. His friends thought he had gone back to his hometown in Florida, but even his parents did not know where he was. Then when a few years later the Snakes started making regular appearances in major wizarding newspapers all over the world, I noticed something. You are well aware of the insignia that the Snakes leave behind at every one of their crime scenes, yeah?"
Ron nodded. He was quite familiar with the insignia which also featured on every written communication by the Snakes.
Miller continued, "Well I had seen that same insignia years before the Snakes were even formed. I had seen it repeatedly on every single item owned by that same guy – Ezra Smith. It has so been many years, but I remember it clearly. Now I know what you're thinking, it could be a mere coincidence. But I'm telling you he was obsessed with that damn logo. But I'm not an idiot. I didn't want to share this with anyone without having a compelling proof. When I was trying to recollect things about Ezra I remembered that I had received a few letters from him during our Uni days. Today, when that stupid letter arrived, I took permission from the Minister to take it with me for analysis. I had the calligraphy experts and researchers analyze the thing. Not only is the handwriting on the letters Ezra's, but there's magical traces on all the parchments, both old and new, that match perfectly. There's no room for doubt now. All these letters were written by the same person, which, given all the other evidence, leads me to the conclusion that Ezra Smith is a member of the Silent Snakes."
Ron thought over all the information Miller had shared. While the evidence was mostly circumstantial, it did seem solid. Although handwriting could be easily faked, magical signatures were next to impossible to forge. Miller must have done his research to be so sure. But the identity of any particular member of the Snakes was not relevant in the grand scheme of things.
"Okay, your deduction seems solid enough. However, it still does not yield a way inside that cursed building, Miller," Ron spoke with visible frustration.
"I know. I'm getting there Weasley," Miller replied with equal frustration. The tone of his voice and his hesitation to say whatever he wanted to, made Ron apprehensive of what Miller had in mind.
"Once I had ensured that Smith was a member of the Snakes and is potentially present at the hotel, I alerted the MACUSA. I was just on a floo call with the Minister of Magic and the Head of the Auror department, trying to suggest some ways to take Ezra into confidence so that he might help us. However, the Head Auror had a different approach in mind." Miller grimaced and choked slightly on the too large gulp of drink he had taken.
When it looked like Miller was in no mood to continue, Ron became increasingly vexed. "Come on man! Out with it," he admonished the younger man.
Miller took a deep breath. "As soon as I told them that Smith could be a potential Snake, they apprehended his family, including his seven-year-old sister. They're planning to lure Smith out by threatening him with the safety of his family. They're sure it would work and have not been receptive of any other suggestions, no matter how much I tried to persuade them otherwise."
When Miller was finished, Ron had a pensive look on his face. While kidnapping people, specially a child was obviously very unsavory to him, not to mention highly illegal, he could understand where the Americans were coming from. The Silent Snakes were brutal, and sometimes you just had to fight fire with fire.
"How are they planning to contact and threaten Smith?" he asked the blonde.
"Dunno, they didn't tell me. This is way above my paygrade," Miller replied in an exhausted tone.
"Well your paygrade is about to change," Ron said in a resolute tone as he got up, and gestured Miller to do the same.
"Where are we going?" Miller asked.
"To have a talk with your Head Auror," came the firm reply.
x-----x
A few hours later
The meeting with the Head Auror, Javier Martinez, was going smoothly. At first, Martinez had been evasive and not very forthcoming with information about the Smith family and the aurors' plans for them. But Ron had won him over with his passionate rants about the despicable Snakes and what he would do them if he had free reign.
Martinez stressed the importance of maintaining secrecy of this mission, especially from the British and Irish Ministries. He drilled it over and over again in Ron and Miller's brain that any leak of information could be fatal for the hostages until they were sure that Smith would come through. At this time, the fewer people knew about his connection to the Snakes, the better. Ron had almost acquiesced before he remembered someone else who could help them.
"Auror Martinez, may I suggest someone else who we can entrust to help? A fellow auror and a friend of mine," Ron began but he was quickly shut down by Martinez vigorously shaking his head.
"I'm sorry Mr. Weasley, I won't be including anyone in the plan until we have something concrete. We have a very slim shot at getting some information from Smith and I won't screw that over for your comfort of having your friends near. In fact, you were not supposed to know about this either, but it seems that Healer Miller has lose lips. We'll have to rectify that situation soon enough," Martinez glared at Miller, who looked away sheepishly.
Ron let out a frustrated breath and tried to reason with the older man, "I understand that Auror Martinez. But I'm offering help, not comfort. The person I want to keep in the loop is not only an accomplished auror, but he holds lot of soft and hard power all over Britain. He'll bring muscle and money to the table, both of which are always helpful in missions like these."
"Well who is it?" Martinez asked with a slight sneer.
"Draco Malfoy. He's a senior auror in Britain and his family is one of the oldest known wizarding families in the UK. I'm sure you've heard of them – the Malfoys."
Martinez nodded, "I have. But why do you think Malfoy would be so vital to our mission?"
"Like I said, Malfoy is an auror, and a damned good one at that. He's been a part of several high-stakes assignments, including search and rescue missions. Malfoy is highly competent and methodical in his approach, and always goes the extra mile to get the job done, whatever it takes. It was him who had opened the grave of Albus Dumbledore to retrieve the broken Elder Wand. But if all of this isn't enough to convince you of his capabilities, perhaps you'll appreciate the assured reason for his commitment to this particular mission. Malfoy has a very good incentive to see through the success of this entire rescue operation — his fiancé, Hermione Granger is among those captured. If I know Malfoy at all, and I do know him quite a bit, I can say that he'll do whatever it takes to save her. Plus his family vaults might contain some things that the Snakes might be interested in, which could make our negotiations more effective," Ron finished making his case, hoping Martinez would understand.
After a long while Martinez relented. "Fine. Brief Mr. Malfoy about what we have discussed today, and forward my warnings to him. Do not leak any information, or you will face the consequences," he did not mince words at all.
Ron nodded and quickly left.
x-----x
Getting Draco onboard was a piece of cake. The blonde wizard had been itching to do something, but the hostage situation had tied everyone's hands. Malfoy had lashed several times out on everyone including the Ministers of Magic of UK and Ireland, which had got him several reprimands, but that hadn't stopped Malfoy one bit. When Ron told him about the MACUSA's plan, he gave an enthusiastic assent and muttered something along the lines of at least the Americans are good for something.
Ron explained the entire plan and told Draco to be ready. Based on the sharp awareness in Draco's eyes, Ron knew he was more than ready, in fact he must be scheming some of his own specialty blend of punishments for the Snakes. Watching the blonde ponce plotting something nefarious always brought him back to their school days, which made their present circumstances even more jarring. Ron couldn't help but wonder how things had turned around so drastically. The blonde wizard who had once been their school bully, was now a cherished friend. And not just a friend, he was the fiancé of Ron's ex-fiancé, and was fiercely protective of her. Shaking off the dizzying thoughts, Ron reiterated Martinez's warning for discretion to Draco who just shrugged them off.
Leaving the Slytherin to his own devices, Ron apparated to his own flat, where his lovely wife was waiting for him.
As he shattered in Luna's arms, his worries for his two best friends momentarily dulled, he wondered for the hundredth time since evening if the MACUSA's plan would be successful, and what would be the repercussions of failure.
x-----x
November 09, 2007
Elysium Hotel
Dublin, Ireland
Ron and Draco stood side by side in the shadows, as they watched the MACUSA's plan unfold right in front of them. They had brought Evelyn Smith - Ezra's mother, near the hotel and forced her to send a held their breath, standing side by side as they saw the first signs of the success of the Americans' plan. patronus to her son. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, Ezra had sent a patronus back threatening the MACUSA if they hurt his family, they'll never see any hostage alive. Head Auror Martinez, undeterred, sent his own patronus stating that they had no plans to hurt the Smith family, however, if Ezra didn't help them, the Smiths will face the prospect of jail time, for aiding a potential terrorist. A lot of back-and-forth later, Ezra finally relented. Using darkness as a cover, he came out to meet with the aurors. He stayed well within the wards, so the aurors could not nab him. Ron saw Draco dart towards the group of aurors, and he held off the blonde with a stern shake of his head. This was not the time to be reckless. Nonetheless, the two of them subtly made their way towards the American aurors, to see if they could provide any assistance.
Ezra Smith was being kind of a dickhead. He refused to answer the aurors' questions honestly, even when he knew he had no cards to play. His family's safety was on the line. Frustrated with his blatant disregard in the face of authority, Draco asked the aurors if he could try something, promising them that he wouldn't hurt the little shit. When he got the go-ahead, he waved his wand in a complicated pattern at the dark wizard who stared back at him unflinchingly. When Draco was finished, there was no outward effect, but Ezra's eyes had widened as if he could feel that something was wrong, though no one else had a guess what that could be.
"Right. Now that that's out of the way, tell me a few things to set a baseline. What is your full name and date of birth?" Draco asked the wizard.
Ezra struggled a bit, his throat bobbing as he swallowed a few times, but then he relented.
"My name is Ezra George Smith. I was born on January 14, 1983," he answered in a robotic tone.
"Where did you go to school?" Draco continued.
"I attended the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After graduating, I attended the magical branch of the Benedictine University," the same monotonous voice answered.
"How many people are there in your family? State their full names and ages," Draco enquired a little harshly.
Ron and the American aurors watched confused as Ezra started shaking as he vied for control over his body and mind. That's when Draco waved his wand again in that same complicated pattern and yelled at Ezra to answer him.
Ezra lost whatever battle he was fighting with himself under the force of Draco's spell and told them about his family including his parents, his elder brother and sister-in-law, a set of twin teenage sister and brother and finally the youngest sister who was seven year old.
As the aurors listened with rapt attention, their eyes widened at the discovery of the Smith twins. Nobody knew about them or where they were, neither Ezra or his parents had talked about them.
"Where are they? Your twin sister and brother?" Auror Martinez asked.
A vein popped in Smith's forehead as he fought to overcome Draco's spell and hold his tongue, but he answered ultimately. "They are in Spain. They attend the Escuela de Excelencia Mágica de St. Mary in Madrid."
"Fine. Now that I know you're telling the truth, let's get down to business," Draco asked in a deadly calm tone. He called Ron over with a nod of his head.
The redhead was a little surprised at the gesture. Draco seemed to be in full control of the situation, but he still deferred to Ron for further questioning. Not willing to waste time trying to understand the strange action, Ron took over the interrogation with a nod at Auror Martinez.
"How many members of your group are present inside the building?" was his first question for Ezra.
"39 at the moment. There were originally 42, but three went back to our safe house to deal with an emergency."
"How many Inferi did you bring here?"
"At least a hundred," Ezra replied as the aurors groaned.
"Is there anyone injured inside the hotel? If yes, then how many and what is the extent of their injuries?"
"There are several people injured, most of them the aurors who made up the security detail. Many scuffles have broken out since we took them. Two aurors are dead —" there were many sharp intakes of breath. "— they were trying to be heroes, and got hurt in the crossfire. There are a few people who are suffering from magical exertion. Some have serious wounds and a few of them might require blood replenishing potions," Ezra replied.
"And where are the hostages located? Are all of them together?" Ron pressed for information.
"Most of them have been kept together in the ballroom of the hotel. Some of the more difficult ones including Potter and Granger have been housed separately in the third floor guest suites, with Inferi guarding the entrance to every room." Both Ron and Draco twitched at the mention of Harry and Hermione, but they kept their composure. Now was not the time to act brashly.
"All right, that gives us a lot of information to work with. Do you have any questions for him?" Ron asked Auror Martinez, who nodded.
"What other weapons does your group have apart from your wands and the Inferi?" Martinez asked the dark wizard.
"We have a small collection of magical creatures with highly potent venom including basilisks, manticores and a few others. The plan was to extract their venom as and when needed as the poison is the most potent when used fresh. But till now, we haven't needed them."
All the aurors were astonished at the level of preparations the Snakes had done. This was not an impulsive, opportunistic blitz, rather it had been planned well in advance. The thought led Draco to ask one last final question to the dark wizard.
"You couldn't have planned this entire attack without some inside help. Is there any mole in any of the Ministries? A dirty law enforcement officer perhaps?"
"Yes, we have many inside men in the British and Irish Ministries," Smith began as he started reciting a never-ending list of all the back-stabbing people working with the governments of the two countries.
By the time he was finished, Ezra was holding his head like he was in pain, while Draco looked a little worse for wear. The spell took a lot out of him, and he appeared to be suffering from magical exhaustion. Ron grabbed him by the wrist to support him, while the aurors gathered around Ezra Smith to explain to him the terms of their negotiations, and how he was to react when he goes back to the Snakes. He was threatened with dire consequences if he tries to alert his group about what had transpired today. Ron looked at Auror Martinez who simply nodded at him, a promise to talk later evident in his body language.
Ron led Draco to the nearest apparation point, from where he side-along apparated them both to Draco's temporary apartment in Dublin.
When they landed, Ron made Draco lie on the massive couch, while he threw rapid instructions to the young house elf who had followed it's master to the foreign country. As the elf set about caring for Malfoy, Ron took a breather.
It had been a long day, and it felt an even longer week. The dark purple shadows under his eyes were the testament to the exhaustion he had been feeling. The stress of the mission was exacerbated by the perpetual dread he had about the safety of his two best friends. He looked at Malfoy who was lying on the sofa with a hand covering his eyes. Ron knew Malfoy was just as worried about Hermione as he was. He hadn't become particularly close to Malfoy even when Hermione had started dating him. But at the moment, Ron felt a sense of connection with the blonde wizard because of their mutual worry for the curly-haired witch. While Ron had never liked the blonde ponce, even he could see that Malfoy loved Hermione more than he loved the Malfoy name.
As evident by the events of the evening, Malfoy was willing to do everything to get Hermione back safely. Suddenly, a question which had been nagging him since Smith's interrogation, resurfaced in Ron's mind.
"Malfoy, what was the spell you used on Smith? The bloke was being a total bellend till you hit him with the spell and then he babbled like a baby."
Malfoy, the dramatic princess that he was, pulled his hand away from his eyes with a Herculean effort, and replied in a swotty way, which was eerily similar to Hermione.
"If you must know Weasley, that spell was a modified version of the Imperius. It has a compulsion charm built in, which forces the victim to only tell the truth in response to whatever the caster asks. Kind of like a veritaserum in the form of a spell."
Ron's mouth dropped open upon hearing the explanation. The spell was so brilliant, and it's applications could be far-reaching, especially for law enforcement officers. The theory behind the spell was so ingenious that he wanted to know more. "How did you manage to do that? Combine the Imperius with a compulsion charm. Also, wouldn't a spell like this be technically illegal?"
"I don't know all that Weasley. Ask Hermione about the semantics after we've saved her. Stop bothering me, my head's killing me," Draco whined.
"Ah, so Hermione devised the spell. Of course she did. Foolish of me to expect such brilliance from you," Ron retorted smugly. Draco glared at him, and muttered under his breath.
Before either of them could say anything further, the silvery lynx patronus of Kingsley came bounding towards Ron and relayed the Minister's message in a loud, angry voice. "Weasley, meet me in the Irish Minister's office tomorrow sharp at 9 am. Bring Malfoy with you!" The Minister's voice was so shrill, he might as well have sent them a howler. Ron knew why Kingsley was so angry, the MACUSA must have relayed all the information that they had gathered that evening, and his and Malfoy's role in the events of the evening might have come out as well. Kingsley must have felt that Ron and Draco had gone behind his back, fueling his anger. Somehow Ron couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment. The safety of his friends was much more important to him than weathering the Minister's wrath.
He got up from the couch slowly, stretching his tired muscles. He glanced at the blonde lying on the couch and clutching his head in the most dramatic fashion. "Get your beauty sleep Malfoy. Tomorrow's going to be a long day of ass-kicking," he told the man.
"Whose ass will be kicked though?" asked Malfoy.
"I guess we'll find out tomorrow, won't we?" Ron replied and then flooed back to his home in England.
x-----x
November 10, 2007
Irish Ministry of Magic
Limerick, Ireland
Turns out, Ron and Draco were the first in line for the ass-kicking. Kingsley gave both of them an earful, and told them that if anything goes wrong in the mission because of their callousness, they'll be facing severe disciplinary action. After yelling at them for what felt like eternity, he finally calmed down enough to tell them that aurors from the MACUSA had called for a meeting at 11 am, to discuss the plan for the liberation of the group of witches and wizards who had been taken hostage. There were plans for a large-scale mobilization.
Ron shook off the nervous jitters and waited for the meeting by practicing dueling with Malfoy. They knew the time to battle the Snakes was on the horizon.
x-----x
Same Day, Midnight
The Elysium Hotel
Ron stood just outside the perimeter of wards surrounding the muggle hotel. He was decked out in full auror regalia, his wand clutched in his outstretched hand. Draco stood at his left, dressed similarly. They were a part of a much larger group – the rescue party consisting of aurors, law enforcement officers, ward breakers, researchers, healers, magizoologists, and other government workers from Ministries of the different countries whose citizens had been taken hostages. Together, the different Ministries had mobilized a large group of witches and wizards who were willing to fight a group of dark wizards, the Inferi and possibly, some other dark creatures. Their numbers were good on paper - capping off around 70, but their ability to duel and fight might get hindered due to the fact that the dark wizards were still holding on to the hostages, and could use them as human shields. Nonetheless, all the members of the rescue party had the plan of action drilled into brains and knew how to proceed ahead. The head of operations of this whole mission had been Auror Martinez, as the MACUSA had taken the lead in commandeering the mission. They all stood under a blanket of muggle repelling and disillusionment spells to conceal themselves from the muggles who were surely around the area.
With a signal from Auror Martinez, the mission began. Ron clutched his wand tighter, and he saw several other people doing the same. An old wizard with a wizened face came forward and placed a shiny little object on the ground, just at the edge of where the defensive and offensive wards put by the Snakes began. The tiny blue luminous object looked harmless enough, but Ron had heard of the immense power it supposedly contained. The old wizard waved his wand in a complicated pattern, and activated the object. With a loud sound, like a cracking whip, everyone knew the artifact was doing it's job. A group of wizards wearing deep magenta robes stepped forward and waved their wands in unison. Sparks of brilliant golden and azure burst forward and lit up the dark night. It was a beautiful sight, as if they were painting the sky in a synchronized symphony. The effect was instantaneous, with the object having weakened the wards to a significant degree, the ward breakers had no trouble in bringing down the multitude of wards around the buidling. The best thing was, the occupants of the buidling would have no idea that anything was wrong until it would be too late. As the wards came down with the grace of a samurai unsheathing their katana, the rescue party held their stance. A palpable ripple of nervous anticipation made the air thick.
When the last ward was broken, Auror Martinez gave the final signal. With that, the rescue party split into predetermined groups of 15 people. There were 5 total groups, with the last group – that being of Ron and Draco – having 10 people. Each group set towards the five entry points of the hotel.
Ron and Draco, along with their group moved towards the south-west side of the building, where a small door led to the kitchens of the hotel. They moved as quietly as possible. The instructions were clear – stun and bind anyone who was caught unaware, whether it was a potential hostage or any of the Snakes. They would be sorted later and dealt with accordingly. This was especially necessary for the muggles whose memories would need to be modified before they could be released. If anyone put up a fight though, they had to be neutralized with whatever means necessary. All the members of the rescue party had been given free reign to use whatever spells they wanted. Every bit of magic was to be used at their own discretion. All members of the rescue party had been equipped with hundreds of inoccous little single-use portkeys to transport all the rescued or captured people outside the hotel.
Ron took the lead in his group, moving quickly – calm, agile, alert. He checked rooms, closets, anywhere someone could be hiding. He found a small room – a pantry by the looks of it, and found three people wearing the hotel staff uniform lying unconscious on the floor. He quickly bound them and sent them to the control center outside the hotel via a portkey. He saw his fellow aurors find more unconscious staff, all of whom were quickly secured and sent away.
So far no Snakes or Inferi or any manner of dark creatures had made a appearance.
When they had surveyed their designated area, Ron sent a quick patronus to the control room to relay his group's progress. Then they quickly climbed the stairs to check the upper floor.
If all had been quiet downstairs, on this floor there was an raging chaos. People were engaged in duels left, right and center. Ron saw several people being held down by the the Inferi. Without missing a beat, he and his group members joined the fight.
Ron lost himself in the fray of the battle, his blood heating in his veins as his magic was channelized into deadly spells meant to hurt, but not kill. As he saw a hoard of Inferi joining pouring in from a door, he cast a modified version of the blasting curse – one he had seen Harry perform so many times on missions – on the oncoming Inferi who were promptly decapacitated. It resulted in a grotesque shower of rotted body parts all over the room, and he had to duck several times to avoid getting slapped in the face by a flying dead foot or something.
Ron lost all sense of time and space, as he glided from one room to another, no longer caring if he was with his group or not. He dodged curses and hexes, fired plenty of his own, bound and transported hostages, and deflected any curse which came too close to his fellow rescuers. All the while he kept looking for the two people who he wanted to see the most, his two best friends, for whom he had was fighting the dead and the living alike.
Suddenly, he felt a ripple of magic so strong, that he and quite a few other people stumbled on their feet. He looked around to spot whoever had casted the spell, but instead he found the Inferi that he had incapacitated were now reanimated, and were coming at the rescuers in droves. The Necromancer must have a casted another spell. He and his friends were now outnumbered once more. Ron felt his frustration boil over. He cast the refined blasting curse many times in quick succession, not waiting to see the results. Then he ordered the rescuers to get out of the room, as he secured the doors with a fortified locking charm, sealing the Inferi inside.
He did the same in several rooms and was able to liberate many hostages. By now, many of the other groups had merged with his, and they all worked together to save the hostages, apprehend the Snakes and kill any Inferi. Gradually, they covered almost all the areas and were now heading towards the ballroom – the area where they suspected the last of the hostages and the Snakes to be.
When the dwindling rescuers made their way to the ballroom, it was clear their last stand was going to be made here. There were only 7 seven Snakes remaining, but there were about 40 or so hostages all congregated in the center of the room, their hands and feet bond by invisible ropes, surrounded by the damned Inferi. The Snakes flanked the group of hostages from both sides.
Ron let his eyes run over the group, desperately searching for the two people who he was the most anxious to get to, when he felt Malfoy gasp beside him. He looked over to where Malfoy's attention was, and sure enough, there she was —
Hermione Granger was sitting right in the middle of the group of bound witches and wizards. She had somehow got a hand freed from her bindings and was using it to cradle a young witch who had a large gash on her leg and was obviously terrified. Hermione herself had several injuries and Ron knew each one of that would've been because of her efforts to save others before herself. He tried to catch Hermione's eyes, but she was busy consoling the witch beside her. It seemed she hadn't noticed him standing in the group of rescuers.
Ron looked some more till he found his other best friend, who was, in contrast, looking at him. Harry's green eyes met Ron's blue ones head on. Ron tried with all his might to convey to his best friend the only thing going on in his mind at the moment —
I'm here now. I'll save you.
As if hearing Ron's internal monologue, Harry nodded, his body relaxing from it's rigid stance, as if he trusted that he was safe now.
Perhaps it was that inherent trust, perhaps it was the injuries on Harry's face, perhaps it was the way Hermione was still trying to put others before herself, or a combination of it all – in that moment he didn't understand, but he didn't need to.
For in that moment, Ron felt all his exhaustion disappear, only to be replaced by a sense of responsibility for the safety of his two best friends. It was that feeling which inflamed his blood and flooded his veins with the adrenaline needed for him to finish the job.
When everybody – the Snakes and the rescuers – were at an impasse and didn't know what to do, Ron cast the first spell. He fired a sharp diffindo at the Inferi closest to Harry. The spell cut through the undead's bodies like a knife to butter. The group of 10 inferi fell like a jenga tower collapsing.
That set everyone off, and soon enough the two groups were once again engaged in a battle. The rescuers were finding it difficult take the Snakes head on because they were hiding behind the Inferi and the hostages. No matter how careful they were trying to be, rouge spells would reach the tied-up hostages, hurting them in the process.
Just when he was contemplating switching to hand-to-hand to specifically target the Snakes, he saw a wizard climb the stairs to the highest point in the ballroom. He was the same American wizard who had activated the artifact which had broken the wards on the building. The older wizard waved his wand in a complicated pattern, and a silvery-white sheen descended upon the room.
For a few seconds, there was no effect, but then a shrill scream pierced the air. Ron turned his head and saw that one of the hostages, whose hands were now untied, had smashed an ornate porcelain figurine over the head of one of the Snakes, who was now bleeding profusely. It set off another set of skirmishes, with the rescuers now unhindered by the fear of hitting the hostages.
Most of the hostages had moved out of the way when they realized that they were now free, but a few were now helping the rescuers any way they can.
Ron finally saw a sliver of hope which he hadn't felt through the entire freakshow of a night. Despite the nearly-endless Inferi, the rescuers were gaining the upper-hand as they were now being assisted by the hostages. The Snakes were thoroughly outnumbered. When they resorted to using the darkest of spells, the rescuers retaliated with a quite a few sinister ones of their own.
Suddenly the earth shook with another strong magical vibration and many people lost their footing. Ron saw that a tall man wearing the blackest of robes was waving his wand towards the ceiling in a repetitive fashion. He didn't know what that spell was, but he was sure the Snake was up to no good. So, without wasting a beat, he made his way towards the wizard, intending to disarm him and stop whatever spell he was about to cast.
Ron reached a respectable distance from the dark-robed wizard, took his stance, aimed his wand, and felt the spell leave his lips.
But then he felt all the blood in his veins freeze and a chill engulfed his entire body. The spell which had left his wand just moments before dissipated before his very eyes, ineffective and useless. Ron glanced at his wand in shock. He waved it around frantically, trying to produce a spell, a curse, a hex, anything, even a simple spark. But nothing worked. His wand was inefficacious, and his magic seemed to be reluctant to bend to his will. All around him, people were going through the same thing, waving around their wands maniacally in order to utilize their magic but they were as successful as Ron had been.
The uproars of outrage and of distress were soon turned into exclamations of horror as the Inferi closed ranks around the hostages and rescuers once more. But this time, the wizards and witches could do nothing but try to back off. Without their magic, the Inferi soon engulfed them in their undead arms, and there was no fighting them off. The good guys were completely at the mercy of the bad guys. Even the remaining Snakes were looking at their useless wands but they were certainly not being targeted by the Inferi.
The only person who still had access to their magic was the necromancer who was now waving his wand in a taunting manner, directing the Inferi to do his dirty bidding. He had soon rounded off the remaining hostages and rescuers into the center of the room and forced them to sit on their knees. He did not bother to bind them again — there was no point. Without their magic available to them, the witches and wizards were just as effective against the Inferi as the muggles were.
Ron looked around trying to locate his best friends. He saw Harry and Hermione sitting side by side, Harry giving her a one-arm hug, trying to protect her. He wasn't the only doing so though, during the commotion, Draco had made his way to her, and was now holding her hand tightly in his. Ron's heart clenched painfully at the tears flowing down her face and the stricken look on Harry's.
Since his attention had been on his two best friends, Ron missed the villain monologue the necromancer was letting out. He saw Auror Martinez engaging him, trying to divert his attention. But what would be the point? No matter if distracted the wizard was, he would still have the advantage over everyone because of the wand clutched in his hand and the magic flowing in his veins.
Even with their sheer numbers, the good guys couldn't do anything. There was no force greater in the Universe than magic. A magical being would always win over a non-magical one, such was the law of nature.
After all, what was more powerful than magic itself?
The answer came to him like a bludger to the head. The answer came to him in boisterous laugh and booming words of the man who almost became his father-in-law.
"These Americans, silly lot, the whole of them," Mr. Granger laughed as he fondly told Ron of his time in America, when he was a young lad himself. "They think the answer to all life's problems lies in front of the barrel of a loaded gun."
Mr. Granger polished the .45 Winchester Magnum pistol with the precision of a man who had done this thousands of time before. He stared at the gun for a long time, admiring its shiny surface and the sturdy feel of it in his hand.
Ron observed the man who treated him like a son. In a short time Mr. Granger had accepted him, even when the man thought Ron wasn't good enough for his daughter. He was a disciplined man, though the laugh lines around his eyes suggested that he was tender with his family.
"Although I've often wondered if a gun couldn't have been the answer to all you lot's problems," he said cryptically as he gifted Ron one of his most prized possession.
Ron's eyes widened as he now understood the words uttered so long ago by Hermione's father. He felt around in his robe pocket, feeling the reassuring weight of the pistol. He looked around and saw that several people were still locked in an argument with the necromancer, who seemed to be in love with the sound of his own voice.
He pulled out the gun from his pocket, keeping it hidden away in the folds of his robes, and got up slowly. Harry and Hermione obviously noticed him, but no one else paid him any attention, which he was grateful for.
As he made his way to the front of the room, the necromancer finally noticed him. The wizard turned towards Ron, his countenance overly confident and his posture relaxed. Rob saw a mocking smile on the man's face and it made him itch to slap it off.
When he was two feet away, the necromancer looked at him in interest. Ron stood to his full impressive height and looked the man in the eye. The necromancer raised his wand in Ron's direction, no doubt about to send a nasty curse his way.
Ron interrupted him before he could do so. "I want to tell you something," he told the dark wizard.
The man looked at him in amusement. "I'm all ears," he replied with an exaggerated gesture, cupping his hand over his ear.
"Greetings," Ron started as he pulled out the gun and took aim, "from William Granger," he finished as he took a precise shot at the man's head.
Time slowed down as the Ron watched the bullet fly towards the man's forehead in ultra-slow motion like in those cheesy muggle films Hermione had forced him to watch. It was probably less than fraction of a second, yet it felt like an eternity as the bullet finally met it target and lodged itself in the wizard's vulnerable flesh. The man's eyes widened as he felt the unfamiliar sensation of pain and shock because of the foreign object. Eventually, his body fell to the ground like a marionnete whose strings had been cut off. His wand clattered to the floor and rolled over a few inches away.
Time righted itself as the huge room was filled with the inhuman screeching of a dozens and dozens of Inferi dying (yet again) as the magic keeping them animated ceased to exist. One by one, as all the Inferi fell to the ground, so did the gun from Ron's hand.
The remaining Snakes had no chance as even with their magic still inaccessible to them, the aurors easily overpowered them with their sheer numbers.
All around him, people were joyously embracing each other, but Ron only had eyes for two people. His best friends who were now making their way towards him, with the blonde menace supporting Harry's limping form. He met them the rest of the way, and had them engulfed in a group hug in no time.
Harry sighed a 'Took you long enough mate' while Hermione sobbed in his arms, his aurors robes clutched in her white knuckled grip. After a while, he noticed someone trying to get his attention.
Draco was trying to return him the pistol he had dropped, the barrel turned towards Ron's chest. "Woah the safety is still off!" he exclaimed, as he took the gun from Draco, admist blank looks from his friends.
All of a sudden, a thunderous applause started as everyone in the room recognized the red-headed Auror as their Savior, the one who had used unconventional methods to save them from dark wizards. People shook his hands and thumped him on the shoulder. They sang his praises for his quick thinking and his bravery. His name was repeated multiple times in hushed voices and reverent tones.
A few years ago, the sight of so many people looking at him in adoration would have made him immensely proud at finally having the spotlight on him but he was not that wizard anymore.
As he exited the godforsaken hotel supporting Harry with Hermione and Draco following them, Ron Weasley knew that fame and name was secondary to what was most important to him.
Saving the two people who had always had his back had been his greatest accomplishment and he wouldn't change it for anything else in the world.
In the months that followed the highly publicized rescue operation of the wizards and witches from different countries, and the subsequent revelation of Ron Weasley's role in it, a new jingle spread like a wildfire through the British wizarding society, every tongue, young and old, singing it —
Weasley is our King
His spells sizzling
Sent the Snakes to dust
Rendering their plans bust
Weasley is our King
He had just the right thing
To make the Snakes run
The mighty muggle gun
Weasley is our King
He didn't let the necromancer win
Weasley always delivers
That's why he is our Savior.
Weasley is our King.