Ron, Ginny, and Luna, their attire hastily transformed in a secluded alleyway to blend in with the Muggle surroundings, now stood before the house that should have been Eleanor's. The palpable tension in the air mirrored the anxious beating of their hearts as they wondered if they had guessed correctly.
Ginny, her hand trembling slightly, lifted it to knock on the door. The seconds that followed felt like hours, their collective anticipation etched across their faces. The door swung open abruptly, revealing a woman with cascading waves of long, curly black hair and dark, anxious brown eyes. Those eyes assessed them quickly before landing on Eleanor, who stood before them, her own eyes dancing with nervous excitement.
Eleanor squealed with delight, unable to contain her joy, and rushed forward with a swiftness that could only be born of longing. Ember lunged forward as well as she swiftly scooped her daughter up into her arms, her tears mingling with the smile that stretched across her face. As she held Eleanor tightly, she glanced at Ron, Ginny, and Luna, her gratitude spilling from her in a torrent of heartfelt words, each thank you punctuated by fervent hugs, as if she could never express how much this moment meant to her.
"You guys should come in, I'm Ember, by the way," Ember said with a smile, her eyes betraying an underlying anxiety as she gestured for them to step inside.
"Thank you for the offer," Ginny replied with a hint of hesitation, her inner alarm bells ringing louder with each passing moment. A growing unease gnawed at her stomach. Her daughter had been missing for what felt like an eternity, a week at the very least, and the woman standing before her exhibited a peculiar lack of relief or curiosity about Eleanor's return. This conspicuous absence of emotion was deeply unsettling, to say the least. Ginny couldn't help but notice that the woman appeared more stressed than relieved, her demeanor betraying an underlying tension that sent shivers down her spine.
Ember's insistence only heightened the tension. She peered anxiously around the front yard, her gaze darting like a hunted creature, as if ensuring that no prying eyes were watching them. Her urgency made Ginny's heart race even faster.
Seeing that none of them were showing signs of moving, Ember continued in a rushed, hushed tone, "Did you find Hermione? Is she back too? Is she okay?"
The words hung heavily in the air, laden with a mix of desperation, hope, and fear. Ginny exchanged glances with Ron and Luna, her unease growing. It was becoming increasingly clear that there was more to this encounter than met the eye, and the shadow of uncertainty deepened.
"We should continue this inside," Ron declared, his voice tinged with urgency as he cast a lingering gaze at Ember. It was evident to him that she wasn't entirely comfortable talking outdoors, and it only fueled his suspicion that she held crucial information about Hermione's disappearance.
With cautious steps, Ginny and Luna followed Ron into Ember's home, the unease in the atmosphere palpable. As they all entered, Ember quietly closed the door behind them, sealing them within a cocoon of anxiety.
Before Ember could utter a word, Ron took the initiative. "Sorry, Ember," he began, his voice gentle but laden with tension, "I'm Ron—"
Ember swiftly interrupted him, her desperation evident in her trembling voice. "I know you guys are Hermione's friends. Is she safe? Is Hermione back?" Her words rushed out, the anxiety etched on her face mirroring the turmoil within her. Her repeated mention of Hermione's name did not go unnoticed, and each mention caused Eleanor to flinch, a stark indication that something was deeply amiss, casting a shadow of sadness and apprehension over the room.
Ginny's heart hammered in her chest as she attempted to feign ignorance. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, though she knew all too well what Ember was getting at.
Ember's impatience was evident as she let out a grunt, her anxiety intensifying. "Hermione, did she come back?" she pressed, the question hanging heavy in the air like an unspoken fear.
Luna, ever the empathetic soul, stepped forward, her eyes filled with sympathy as she gently addressed Ember. "Ember, right? You must be Hermione's cousin," Luna began, her voice tinged with sorrow. "I'm truly sorry, but no, she hasn't returned. Did she perhaps confide in you? Share any information?" Luna's fingers nervously fiddled with the hem of her dress, an anxious habit that betrayed her own unease.
Ember's eyes darted anxiously from one person to another, her desperation growing more palpable by the moment. "What do you mean, no?" she implored, her voice quivering with a mix of confusion and fear. The room seemed to close in on them as uncertainty hung heavy in the air, and the absence of answers only deepened their collective sadness and anxiety.
"Hermione disappeared last night," Ron began, his voice tinged with a heaviness that mirrored the sorrow etched across his face, "and we haven't the foggiest idea where she could be. We've been scouring everywhere for her, and Eleanor was sent to us, and that's how we ended up here, " Ron's words spilled out hastily, a torrent of worry and uncertainty in the face of Hermione's inexplicable absence. He hesitated, unsure of how much he should reveal to Ember, given her status as a Muggle. But the look in her eyes hinted at a deeper understanding, perhaps something Hermione had shared with her closest family.
Ember's brow furrowed as she processed Ron's words, her anxiety escalating. "McGollan Park," she murmured, as if searching the depths of her memory for any clues. "I think she mentioned something about McGallan Park before she left." Her words were tinged with urgency, as though the pieces of a puzzle were starting to come together.
Seeing Ember's distress, Ginny stepped forward, her heart heavy with empathy. She approached Ember, gently laying a comforting hand on her arm, and guided her towards the nearby couch. The weight of their shared anxiety hung heavily in the room, and the uncertainty surrounding Hermione's disappearance cast a pall of sadness over them all.
She offered Ember a soft, reassuring smile, though beneath her facade of composure, her own emotions churned with unease.
"Ember, I can see you're distressed, and I promise we'll do everything we can to make sense of this," Ginny spoke gently, her voice a soothing balm amidst the chaos of their situation. She settled herself next to Ember, Luna and Ron taking seats opposite them, forming a circle of shared concern.
Ember's eyes glistened with anxiety as she began to recount the events. "Hermione came in late last night, in a terrible state. She was so frightened," Ember's voice wavered as she spoke, the vivid memory of that night etched in her mind. "We ended up arguing, and she... she showed me everything, all that magic stuff," she paused, her eyes locking onto Ginny's, silently acknowledging the gravity of the revelation.
"And then she told me about why they took Eleanor," Ember continued, her voice trembling with fear. "They wanted her to do something for them, to lure Harry to a certain place they wanted him to be. She didn't go through with it, though," Ember said, her voice carrying a sense of admiration for Hermione's courage. "She used her magic to change her appearance into that man's, and she left." Her eyes darted between the three of them, uncertainty and anxiety weighing heavily on her. "She did mention something about McGallen Park and a deadline at 3 a.m. That's all I know."
The room seemed to hold its breath as the gravity of Hermione's predicament settled in, casting a shadow of sadness and anxiety over them all.
"Thank you, Ember," Luna spoke softly, her voice laced with genuine gratitude as she rose to her feet. Her expression conveyed both sadness and determination. "Please don't worry. We have a plan in motion, and we'll inform you as soon as we find her. Your help means a lot."
Ron followed Luna's lead, getting up from his seat and offering Ember a grateful nod. "We appreciate your assistance, Ember," he said earnestly, his voice heavy with concern. With that, they began to make their way toward the exit, each step weighed down by the gravity of their mission.
Ember, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of hope and anxiety, offered them a final suggestion. "You all can use that vanishing thing, right? It's faster and more efficient, isn't it?" She nodded slightly, as if granting them permission. With a shared understanding, they all Apparated on the spot, their unspoken destination clear in their minds. They hadn't communicated it explicitly, but somehow, they all found themselves in the desolate heart of McGallen Park. The silence that enveloped them was heavy with the anticipation of what lay ahead, and their unspoken fears hung in the air like a shroud of sorrow and anxiety.
____________
The trio of George, Percy, and Neville embarked on their covert mission, tiptoeing hesitantly into the eerily quiet corridors of the Information Department. Their disguises, while intended to keep them incognito, felt like flimsy shields against the looming uncertainty. George's fake mustache seemed perpetually on the verge of detachment, Percy's oversized glasses kept slipping down his nose, and Neville's trench coat draped over him like an ill-fitting shroud, transforming him into a figure of nervous intrigue rather than the wizard he was.
The absence of a Polyjuice Potion or any quick-fix spell or potion to aid their mission only added to the weight of their unease. They had no choice but to rely on their wits, their nerves taut with the knowledge that a single misstep could expose them.
George, casting wary glances at his comrades, Neville and Percy, could feel the collective anxiety in the air like a tangible force. He leaned in closer, his voice barely above a hushed murmur,
"Alright, lads," George began, his eyes darting around to ensure that no prying ears were eavesdropping on their conversation. He leaned in closer, his voice a low and cautious drawl that carried the weight of secrecy, "listen up. We're about to dive into a super important mission, and the key to nailing it is just one word: secrecy."
As he emphasizing the gravity of their mission. His words carried the weight of their shared apprehension, and it was clear that there was no room for error in this precarious venture.
He let those words linger in the air for a moment, allowing the gravity of their situation to fully sink in. They were on a clandestine mission, one that demanded absolute secrecy.
Neville let out, his tone tinged with a sense of unease, "Here, in this sneaky spot where even a little murmur could spill the beans, we gotta be like ninjas, guys. I mean, seriously, not a single soul should catch a whiff of what we're up to."
He emphasized the urgency of their situation, the unspoken tension palpable in the air as they contemplated the risks they were undertaking. Every word, every gesture, had to be executed with meticulous care to avoid any unwanted attention.
Percy shifted his gaze around the room, his eyes flitting over the busy Ministry employees who bustled about their tasks. He spoke in a cautious undertone, "Look, fellas, it's crucial that we operate under the radar here." He leaned in closer, emphasizing his point, "We mustn't be the center of anyone's attention. In this place, with its prying eyes and ears, we've got to be like chameleons blending into the background."
His words hung in the air for a moment, the weight of their mission pressing on them. The Ministry was teeming with wizards and witches, and the last thing they needed was to raise suspicion.
Percy continued, his voice tinged with anxiety, "So, keep those voices low, movements discreet, and let's make sure we don't stand out like a Blast-Ended Skrewt in a Quidditch match."
Approaching the stern-looking Wizard behind the information desk, their voices hushed to a mere murmur, the trio of George, Percy, and Neville tried to avoid drawing any attention to themselves amidst the bustling crowd.
The Wizard raised an inquisitive eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "Can I be of assistance, gentlemen?" he inquired, his voice a low register that matched their own discreet tones.
George leaned in slightly, his voice a mere breath of sound, and began, "We require access to some, well, rather confidential information pertaining to a particular individual who attended the Ministry Ball."
Percy, sensing the urgency of the situation, chimed in hastily, his words a hurried whisper, "Indeed, it's of the utmost importance, top-secret, you see."
The Wizard regarded them with a heightened sense of wariness, the gravity of their request not lost on him. He, too, responded in hushed tones, fully aware of the sensitivity of their inquiry. "Lower your voices, gentlemen," he cautioned, glancing around to ensure their privacy. "You can't simply stroll in and request such information in the open. These matters require discretion."
George sighed dramatically, as if genuinely surprised by the Wizard's response. "Oh, goodness gracious, you mean to tell me it doesn't work that way?" His tone was layered with a hint of feigned innocence, as though he couldn't fathom the complexities of Ministry protocol. "Isn't this the place for such inquiries? I mean, this is the Information Department, isn't it?"
Percy chimed in, his laughter tinged with nervousness. "Our apologies, sir. Perhaps we've misunderstood something."
Neville, playing the role of the bumbling innocent, reached into his pocket, his fingers dancing over the concealed box of glistening Galleons. "Well, you see," he began, producing the small box as if it were a magical treasure, "we did bring a little... incentive." The box sparkled in the candlelight, casting an enchanting allure.
The Wizard, despite his reservations, couldn't help but eye the box with a hint of intrigue. His nervous chuckle betrayed his curiosity as he contemplated their offer. "Well, well, this is rather unconventional," he muttered, his gaze lingering on the tempting box. "I can't provide you with that information directly," he cautioned, "but I can certainly point you in the right direction."
George leaned in, his bargaining spirit undeterred. "Please, good sir, help us discreetly," he implored, his eyes locked onto the Wizard's. "We won't breathe a word of it, I promise."
Neville nodded emphatically, playing his part to perfection. He gestured toward George, signaling their unwavering commitment to discretion. "Our lips are sealed," he echoed, his voice hushed, "just as the good man says." The room seemed to hum with the tension of secrecy, as they teetered on the precipice of uncovering the elusive information they sought.
The trio leaned in closer, their anxious hearts pounding with anticipation, as the Wizard behind the information desk finally relented, revealing the coveted information they sought. His hushed tones conveyed the gravity of their mission, and as he provided the location - the Department of Magical Records, Room 237 - their breaths seemed to catch in their throats. Their gratitude was expressed with a modest yet generous reward, which the Wizard accepted with an eagerness that was almost palpable.
Exiting the Information Department, their disguises continued to draw curious glances from Ministry employees, further intensifying their sense of urgency to remain inconspicuous.
Room 237 greeted them with dim lighting, stacks upon towering stacks of parchment, and a rather ill-tempered Goblin Librarian standing guard at the entrance. The Goblin's scowl was a silent warning, one that left no room for disobedience.
George, ever the quick thinker, whispered back with urgency, "Of course, we'll be as silent as ghosts."
Percy nodded nervously, his eyes darting toward the librarian. "We wouldn't dare disturb anyone," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
With cautious steps, they gingerly searched through the dusty records, stifling their sneezes amidst the ancient tomes. Time seemed to crawl by as they combed through endless parchments and files. Finally, their persistence bore fruit, as they stumbled upon a dusty file containing information about Hermione's date. The sense of anxious anticipation hung thick in the air as they gathered around, eager to uncover the secrets held within those dusty pages.
George's whisper was laced with eager anticipation as he urged, "It's here! Let's see what we've got."
They carefully opened the file, their eyes widening in a mixture of shock and horror as they beheld what lay before them.
George stammered in disbelief, his voice trembling, "I... I can't believe it!"
Percy, equally aghast, stared at the contents with a disbelieving expression. "It's... it's just a blank piece of parchment!" he exclaimed, his voice quivering with frustration and confusion.
The Goblin Librarian, thoroughly exasperated by the trio's antics, buried its face in its hands, its exasperation evident even as it let out a resigned sigh. It muttered under its breath in a tone that could only be described as weary, "Wizards..."
The trio exchanged nervous glances, a heavy silence settling upon them like a shroud. Their attempt to uncover Hermione's date had led them to a baffling dead end, leaving them with more questions than answers.
As they left the Ministry, their shoulders slumped with a sense of defeat, they couldn't help but feel as though their discreet escapade had yielded nothing but frustration and disappointment. The weight of anxiety remained, their mission far from over, and the enigmatic blank parchment continued to haunt their thoughts.