Blindness

Chapter 38: World in Vibrant Color

"Explain."

Hermione lifted her head weakly, heart thumping an erratic beat of adrenaline inside her chest. She was overwhelmed.

She was also freezing.

The older man who had rushed them from the office when the alarms began was looking down a hawkish nose at her, eyes narrowed.

Hermione wet dry lips and tried a smile. It hardly wobbled at all.

"I'm… I'm Hermione Potter. This is my husband. We… are going to leave, ah… now."

That sounded good. Hermione glanced up at Harry, who was staring directly at her chest.

If her cheeks hadn't already been flushed, they would have reddened at his inconvenient gaze placement.

"Right?" Hermione nudged him sharply. "Time to go?"

He blinked at her, smiled in that way that almost, almost made her forgive him for the last weeks.

"Yes, let's go."

"No one is going anywhere until I am told exactly what is going on here." The same man, face a cold mask of anger. "Immediately."

Even as she opened her mouth to say something, another robed wizard stepped forward, Russian spilling from his lips in sharp tones.

Somewhere in there, she heard the word for Minister, and felt her heart sink. The Russian Minister was not known for being easy to get along with. Quite the opposite.

The Minister narrowed his gaze at them as he listened to his aids chatter away hurriedly. A quick glance up at Harry told her he didn't seem the least concerned about the development. He hadn't even glanced at the other people.

Or maybe he had. It was hard to tell, when a person could look without using their eyes.

"We thank you for your service in detaining Lady Isabeau." Hermione's eyes darted back to the Minister, who had folded thin arms across his chest. "Are they correct, that you intend to leave with the artifact?"

The Wand.

Hermione froze in her husband's embrace, then pulled away.

There, held loosely in his right hand, was a gleaming bone-white wand, its surface pockmarked with circular grooves and knobs. The staff he normally held in his right hand was on the ground at their feet, unnoticed.

"It's mine." Harry's voice was rougher than she remembered, his face a mask of neutrality.

"It belongs to the Russian Ministry, per the deal we made with the British Ministry when we sent our extraction team to their aid. It was unfortunate Isabeau had difficulty with its mental effects, and we are grateful for your aid. But this... artifact, is not yours by conquest."

Harry stepped away from her and lifted the wand with a casual gesture. Hermione didn't so much as blink an eyelash as she saw over a dozen wands raise in threatening response.

Over their robed shoulders, she saw Vaughn and Lucy looking furious.

Not good. Not good, not good, not good.