The Outsider
Chapter 4: Burying the Seeds
The Daily Prophet he had scavenged from a trash bin in the Ministry was laid open in front of him. A moving picture of him in a dark mood was glaring at him from the front page.
It was better than what he had expected.
It appeared as though the last traces of doubt within the public were still large enough for them not to trust Albus Dumbledore's words completely. The downside of this, however, was that the public did not trust Harry that much either and so they were torn between supporting him and demeaning him. There was a margin of people who believed that Dumbledore was an old coot and he was probably out of his mind when he alleged that Harry was a criminal. There was another margin of people who believed that Harry had his brains fried by that Avada Kedavra curse and he was out of his mind when he used the Unforgivables.
The rest of the public seemed divided. Who was it that deserved their trust, their unofficial leader, or their savior?
Quite a dilemma.
The Daily Prophet itself appeared undecided. It had, however, brought in all of the doubts of the public, summarized by a few quotes from concerned citizens, and then commented on the fact that, instead of submitting to the Aurors and proclaiming his supposed innocence, he instead chose to escape conviction. This was an obvious sign of guilt, the Daily Prophet noted, but it had amended it by stating that nothing was proved or disapproved. It was perhaps the most unbiased article Harry had ever seen written in this toe rag of a newspaper.
Rufus Scrimgeour, apparently, was unavailable for comment, although the current Head of the Auror Office, Albert Apsley, did announce that, "Potter, as a deluded, mediocre teenager, is currently at the bottom of our list. Our work against He Who Must Not Be Named is far more important than some nut of a sixteen-year-old." It was certainly heavy criticism towards Harry, although, at the moment, he hardly cared about anyone's opinion of him. He supposed that his liberating of this newspaper from the steely jaws of its trash bin was simply motivated by curiosity, not concern over what the wizarding world thought of him.
Deciding that he might yet find something useful within the newspaper, he flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning the headlines. An attack somewhere in Essex, the permanent denial of Madame Marchbanks to return to the Wizengamot, an article describing the rumors of some mutated humanoid dragon that would have made more sense appearing in the Quibbler, an interview with Ronald Weasley…
Huh?
He flipped backwards to the page emblazoned by a black-and-white picture of himself and Ron, both eleven, playing chess together. He growled at the picture that reminded him of his days of ignorant insolence, but he moved his eyes towards the article below.
Rita Skeeter and Ronald Weasley had apparently met each other at Hogwarts. No doubt they gossiped about him, the stalkers. Harry could certainly see where Ginny Weasley got her stalker attitude, for it certainly was in the family. The difference, however, was that Ronald was the kind of 'I'm-sick-and-I-know-what-you're-wearing' kind of stalker. You know, the kind of stalker that keeps threatening to kill you? The kind of stalker who's got something close to obsession with the stalked victim.
Honestly Harry could never understand Ron's continuous spying. He personally wouldn't devote that much time to a single person just on some old coot's orders. Maybe that was just him and he was different.
In any case, background secrets that had been kept for so long had been revealed in shell-shocking bluntness. Any romanticism about Ron and Harry's supposed friendship was utterly shattered. It was revealed that Ron and Harry had had a falling out during second year (the idiot still didn't know that Harry had known he was a spy since the end of first year) and after that, Harry, strangely, would make time to somehow play chess with him or something similar in a public area. They always appeared as though they were the best friends, which Ron mentioned was extremely strange. Harry bet this was news to Dumbledore as well. The pretend-friendship with Ron had been only there to trick Dumbledore into believing his spy was working properly. Ron played along because being friends with Harry Potter would be about as much fame as he would get.
After Harry had discovered the true nature of Ronald Weasley and the fact that he knew a lot of what he shouldn't have, he had made sure to feed the idiot such false information, so that Dumbledore could be tricked into believing that Harry only snuck around, while honing his magic with proper books, was to not worry his 'friends'. Well, not in so many words, but he made sure that from the clues he had dropped to Ron, Dumbledore would deduce that was indeed the case. He had been careful about the Room of Requirement, but apparently the Headmaster had other ways of knowing.
Secret snippets about Harry's personal life were revealed in the article. All about seeing him bring books from the Restricted Section, all about him almost never staying in his bed at night and sneaking around the castle without permission. Ronald topped it off by saying that Harry always seemed mentally unbalanced, while the moron remained completely ignorant to the fact that he could qualify as nutty, spending all his time engrossed with someone else. The name Weasley had been permanently been associated with the art of stalking. Of course, he didn't consider the twins as such, and technically, he had never spoken so much to Charlie and Bill, but that was the general air he received from the Weasleys.
Considering, however, Arthur's stalker-attitude to everything muggle and Madame Weasley's stalker-attitude towards Gilderoy Lockhart and generally towards everyone who takes a single step into her kitchen, it really shouldn't surprise anyone.
Harry closed the paper before he was halfway through the article. There was no point in reading the obvious crap. Whatever spark of hope that had blemished when he read the first article vanished, for it was apparent that, after reading this interview with an 'inside perspective' on Harry Potter's life, most of his supposed supporters would quickly decide that he was delusional and that it was foolish to assume that Harry was in his right mind. He cursed at himself for his foolish hope. Hadn't he learned from Fifth Year?
The news about him being a criminal had taken a day to reach the Daily Prophet. No doubt a ruckus had ensued at the Ministry after the knowledge of his criminal activities came out to the public. And in the midst of it Dumbledore and the Aurors had to have given their testimonies. It was therefore expected that there was a delay.
At the time when he had written to his hopefully future spy, it had been midnight and he had expected him to read it in the morning. So, therefore, his meeting would be today. He had an hour left until his quarry arrived, so he rose from the comfortable chair he had conjured earlier and left the same office he was now spending most of his time in. He went up to his bedroom, taking in the messed state of his bed. He shook his head and grabbed his favorite black cloak, pulling the hood up.
He left the house, walking down the asphalt pathway. His injured leg only gave tiny twinges of pain now. It would be fully healed tomorrow, by which time he should be prepared to 'bury the seeds' as it were.
Right now, he needed to scout the area where he was going to meet his spy. He trusted him more than anyone else, but then, that was no comparison. It would take some time for him to come so it would be a long wait, although it was certainly would be worth his time should it turn out to be an ambush.
He arrived at the gate and swung it open, stepping past the fence. He turned on his feet and Disapparated.
• • • • •
With a crack like a gunshot, Harry Apparated on a building somewhere in London. Upon his arrival, he quickly rolled to the ground, so as not to offer any enemy an incriminating glimpse.
He was nervous about the inhabitants of the building. There was an apartment in there that housed a few magical people, as Harry knew from previous visits. While this allowed him to use magic with it being attributed to the owners of that apartment, it worried him that the sound of his Apparation might have alerted them to his presence.
He waited a few minutes, barely noticing the cold wind that was biting at his skin. The sounds of light footsteps caused him to start and he looked around, but he sighed in relief when he discovered it was nothing more than a black cat prowling along the edges of the roof. After checking the cat for any tell-tale signs of Animagi, he decided it was time he started investigating the area. He rolled on his stomach, while still remaining pressed up against the roof. He crawled slowly until he reached the edge of the building. His eyes scanned the side alley he saw beneath him.
This was their rendezvous point. Should anything happen to any of them, they would meet here in case of emergency. The letter telling the other to meet with the one arranging the rendezvous would uniformly state, 'The usual place.'
It was dark there, that was for sure. It certainly needed a good cleaning, what with worn newspapers and beer cans littering the floor. There was a single, large metal garbage bin, one of those that actually had some metal door or cover. It had no inhabitants, but a few cars could be heard honking in the distance. A secluded area that no one visited. Not to mention a dead end.
He kept his wand on him, his eyes narrowed at the alley. Now, all he needed was to wait.
Half-an-hour later, something creaked below. Harry narrowed his eyes and retracted his head slightly from the roof so he could not be seen.
The door to the garbage bin was silently opened upwards and out came a figure clad in black. The man hoisted himself out of the bin, which, strangely, appeared empty. The door to the bin was just as quickly closed again, and the man turned his head left and right, trying to spot something. Harry licked his lips in apprehension, mutely snaking his wand to the edge of the roof, the tip of the wood pointed at the alleyway beneath. Taking a deep breath, he moved his wand in a straight line along the roof's edge, the tip suddenly glowing dimly.
Homenum Revelio!
The Human Revealing Charm scoured the length and breadth of the alleyway.
Nothing. Only one.
Homenum Revelio!
The wand tip glowed again, this time Harry twisting his wand in a circular sweep, directing it to everything around him.
Again, nothing where it shouldn't be.
Sighing in relief, he pocketed his wand, but he kept a firm grip on it. He might be later accused of acting like Moody, but there was always harm in taking foolish risks. He Disapparated again, this time the short distance between the two points only producing two consecutive pops.
He Apparated right in front of the figure, his hood still lowered over his face. The other man also had his hood up, but he held up his hands and pushed back it back.
Brown hair, grown longer than usual, obstructed his face. His previously round face now revealed a strong jaw and high cheekbones. A wicked scar extended from his right cheek down to his neck.
"Harry."
He spoke.
"…Neville," Harry greeted. "Nice to see you came." He copied Neville, dropping his hood from his face, giving him an eyeful of a paper-white round face with blue eyes and blonde hair. His voice was the same, though. Neville looked at him stonily, their eyes meeting.
"You hit Dumbledore with your Swordstorm Curse," Neville said emotionlessly, as if his statement was fact. It was.
"Yeah? How'd you figure that?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows at Neville.
"I'm familiar to it," Neville said, gesturing to his scar. "…Thanks to you," added Neville, a touch too bitterly.
Harry palmed his forehead.
"Neville!" he exclaimed. "Why do you have to always mention it?"
"Excuse me, I was under the impression that if we weren't in the Room of Requirement, I could have technically died of blood loss," Neville accused. "If you had been just a little more careful where you pointed your wand –"
"But I was pointing it at the target!" Harry defended. "It's not my fault you're clumsy, you know, to this day I don't get how you could have stumbled from the other side of the room, tripping over all the equipment, into the range of my wand!"
"So? You knew I was clumsy, why didn't you warn me?" pressed Neville.
"Well, truthfully, I hadn't expected you to be clumsy enough to do that," admitted Harry. "That was just weird, mate. It's why we started those exercises you kept complaining about anyway."
"Whatever. Well, I'm not clumsy anymore," Neville said. "So why do you always have to call me Umsy, huh?"
Harry struggled to keep a straight face.
"Well, you see, it's quite ingenious," said Harry. "I mean, just who would have guessed that Umsy was related to clumsy?"
"Yes, who could've guessed?" said Neville darkly. "I mean, it's not like it couldn't be found in my bag and it's not like I'm thought of as clumsy."
Harry rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Well, I suppose it did kind of stick after I…er…accidentally called you Umsy."
"Yes, accidentally," Neville said, glaring at him. He really couldn't help it, but he sunk into a fit of sniggers at Neville's expense, while the other blushed crimson and cleared his throat. "Right. Okay then. We've gotten a little sidetracked here, so, back to the topic at hand…"
"Back to the topic at hand, alright," agreed Harry, sniggering again, much to Neville's chagrin. He averted his eyes from Harry and folded his arms, looking quite embarrassed. Harry's laughter died down soon enough, and he slung an arm around Neville's shoulders.
"So, care to explain to me why, the day after you told me you'd be out doing something important, I hear you've somehow assaulted Dumbledore and tried to Imperio him?" Neville asked noncommittally.
As they walked out of the alleyway, Harry said, "Well, it all began when…"
• • • • •
Half-an-hour later, they both could be found in a nearby diner. Sitting on a table where Neville had set up Notice-Me-Not Charms, they were both drinking drinks, their plates wiped clean. Indeed Harry looked quite satisfied at finally affording to eat something. It was a cozy place, this diner, one the two had visited once before and found to have extremely tasty food. There was a bar, but they didn't want to sit there, in full view. They were in the corner, actually, and they would have looked quite strange, dressed in their robes and cloaks. Thankfully, the muggle that attended to their orders had quickly settled down to wiping the bar clean, her thoughts completely diverted from the weird duet sitting in that table in that corner.
Neville leaned back in his seat, staring at Harry with something akin to shock on his face. And quite rightly so, for even Harry had been just as surprised when he discovered that Dumbledore had been trying to manipulate him to his death. Neville did not know anything about Horcruxes yet, as Harry was not ready to divulge that information yet. The reason behind Dumbledore's manipulations had been paraphrased by Harry, who stated that his death was apparently necessary for the defeat of Voldemort. He had explained to Neville his reasons for trying to break into the office, mentioning that Dumbledore had been giving him lessons about the history of Lord Voldemort. Neville knew all too well about Harry's sense of curiosity.
"Right then," Neville said, looking strangely windswept. "Dumbledore is a conniving bastard who has been attempting to kill you since you were this tall." He gestured. "You snuck into his office and you discovered his really, really big secret. Then you got caught and you completely turned the tower to ruins (all of us in the school woke up from that, you know). Then you proceeded to be chased by a couple of Aurors who tried to arrest you after Dumbledore alleged that you used the Imperius. You escaped by the strangest methods anyone has ever seen. Right then, excuse me while I take a moment to process this."
Harry blinked at him. He waited until the look of shock slowly melted from Neville's face, to be replaced by a look of comprehension.
"I was wondering about that, actually, after reading the Daily Prophet," Neville said slowly. "You know, about Ron saying you were a crazy mental psycho? What happened to you being friends?"
"Er, we actually had a large argument, which involved Ron blackmailing me to rescue his sister," he said. "'Course, we were never friends anyway. He was a spy of Dumbledore's, you know. Used him to keep tabs on me."
"O…K," Neville said carefully. "Hermione didn't look all that concerned about you either."
"You probably missed it," Harry said gloomily. "The part where she heard about the news and then started babbling to her neighbor about how fascinating it was. Most probably started shooting off hypothesizes about how I could have gone mental."
"Damn, Harry," said Neville, whistling. "And everyone thought you three were the 'Golden Trio'."
"Silly name, that," Harry said. "Truth is, I don't have any friends."
Harry didn't notice the slightly dark look that swiftly crossed Neville's face, which disappeared just as quickly.
"Well, not that I didn't believe in you from the beginning, I do believe your story," Neville said quietly. He paused and the two fell into silence. "So, what is it that you want from me?" he continued. Neville, smart, smart Neville, would not have assumed that Harry had called him here to reminisce about old times.
"About that," Harry said, chugging down the last dregs of his hot chocolate. "Dumbledore's going to be after me. He's probably already thought of a sneaky way to get me to kill myself. While I'd probably help him, since he does want to kill Voldemort, this is my death you're talking about."
"You've never liked it when somebody tried to kill you," Neville commented.
Harry continued as if Neville had not spoken. "So, I've got a plan –"
"You always do," Neville said. Harry rolled his eyes.
"And I don't want his plans to interfere with mine," Harry said. "That's where you come in."
Neville nodded along for Harry to continue, his face curious.
"I want to know his every move," Harry said. "I want to know the student's allegiances, where they lie. I want to differentiate between the Dumbledore-worshipers and the real deal. And I especially want some information I can't access that is at Hogwarts."
"You want me as your spy," Neville said, with realization. Harry looked pleadingly at Neville, hoping he would say yes. Another silence descended upon them while Neville watched Harry, a deliberating expression on his face. He steeled himself and spoke.
"I can do whatever you want me to do, Harry," Neville said. "I know if I get caught it'll be bad for me, but who else can I work for? The Ministry? Dumbledore? They're no good for the revenge I want."
"Thanks, Neville," Harry sighed. "I really appreciate this."
"But, Harry. I can't give you much information about Dumbledore's 'every move'. I haven't once gone to his office."
Harry considered him for a moment, debating whether to tell him the exact details of his little plan detailing Neville's role. "I have something figured out," Harry said finally. "What I want you to do, firstly, is show your true skills." Neville, who had been drinking from his soft drink, nearly spat it out in surprise. He gulped it all down and stared at Harry.
"But you advised me the other time not to show my true skills!" Neville exclaimed. "Something about Dumbledore paying too much attention to me."
"Things change," Harry said grimly. "Just trust me on this, Neville."
"Fine," Neville said, slumping back in his seat grumpily. "Have it your way. Just remember, when it crashed down around your ears, don't tell me I didn't warn you." Soon, Neville's face cheered. "On the bright side, I can show Malfoy a thing or two now…"
"Oh, I forgot about this," Harry said, grinning. "Make sure to turn Malfoy's life into hell. He's up to something and I don't want him going around unchecked. Keep an eye on him."
"Yessir!" Neville said, saluting him. "Do you mind too terribly if I enjoy this task? I mean this is kind of my new job."
"No, I don't mind," Harry said, chuckling. "I want you to do this to him; I had to pay him back for that Tripping Jinx of his someday…"
Harry explained his prank, and Neville grinned. "I'll get especial pleasure out of that," Neville said. "Don't worry about it, it'll be done."
"Good," Harry said. "So, Neville, what's been going on at Hogwarts?"
"Well, Dumbledore's certainly looking worried about something," Neville replied. "Didn't know just what about till now, thanks to you. After that smelly cauldron of lies he'd brewed with his interview with that Rita Skeeter, Ron's gotten a bit famous. You'd see a lot of the 'Dumbledore-worshipers' surrounding him and begging him to talk about how mental you are."
"Anyone who actually knows me can tell I'm not mental," grumbled Harry. "Bunch of nitwits."
"You are mental Harry," corrected Neville. Harry glared at him.
"Just because I worked you hard during training in the Room, doesn't mean I'm mental," Harry said exasperatedly.
"Sorry, but if you don't think you're mental when on the first day you made me do one-hundred push-ups and sit-ups, then you need a reality check," Neville said. "Do you realize how much I ached for a week?"
"Yes, yes," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "How could I not, when you kept moaning about it? I especially can't forget how you whipped out your wand and cursed me when I told you we were doing the same routine the day after that one."
"I'm still sore about that," Neville said.
"You're still sore about every single thing that made you uncomfortable during your training," Harry said. "Never mind that you were the one who came begging me to teach you a few tricks with a wand."
"You still shouldn't have been so hard on me," Neville grumbled.
"Don't forget, that's exactly what made you this good, in what?" Harry said. "Four months?"
"Why do you always win these things?" Neville complained. When Harry hastened to open his mouth, Neville quickly intercepted him. "Whatever, never mind. Let's get back to how Hogwarts is like, alright?"
"Fine, change the subject, will you?" Harry said.
Neville ignored the jibe. "Hogwarts is a total battlefield at the moment," he said. "I have no idea why people get so caught up fighting about which one of the two most popular figures in the war is in the right. Hexes are flying everywhere at the moment, and those of us who aren't foolish to start a fight in the middle of the hallway have to hide out in our dormitories.
Harry whistled. "I didn't know the arguments were that big," Harry said. "So, who's got more supporters?"
"Dumbledore," said Neville bluntly. "And those who've publicly announced that they supported you are generally getting picked on. You should see the Ravenclaw table during meals, you can hear them debating on logical reasons behind supporting one or the other."
"I'll pass," Harry said dryly. "I've never liked one of Ravenclaw's mass debates. They bring up so many issues about something…"
"That's the general atmosphere here in Hogwarts," Neville said. "The chaos at learning that their 'Chosen One' is accused of the Unforgivable is quite breathtaking, but expected. We've always been big on icons and martyrs."
Harry threaded his fingers through his unruly hair, thinking fast. "Well, I hadn't expected even this little to support me," Harry mused. He glanced at Neville. "I've got to ask you something. Can you make a list of all those who're behind me?"
"Sure thing," Neville agreed, glancing at his watch. He looked apologetically at Harry. "Sorry, mate, I got to go. It's getting late."
"Alright, Neville," Harry said. "Just one thing."
He took out a slip of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Neville. It read:
Tom Marvolo Riddle
I am Lord Voldemort
Neville glanced at him sharply. "What's this about Voldemort?"
"Lord Voldemort is a pseudonym-anagram, if something like that exists," Harry said. "He's the alter ego of Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Neville blinked, and then looked down at the parchment. "I see," he said.
"I guess this time you mean it literally," Harry said. "Anyway, you can find a trophy for him in the Trophy Room. I want you to check that and see in which year he was at Hogwarts, I sort of forgot. Check the library, you'll find information about all the past students there in the yearbook section."
"You've got to be kidding me!" Neville exclaimed. "Do you know how large the yearbook section is?"
"I know Neville," Harry said. "But this is important and I can't go to the library myself. I know I'm asking a lot from you, but please do it."
Neville sighed. "Fine. Since you're a good bloke and all that. So, what is it exactly that you want me to look for?"
"I want details from his home life, the address to the orphanage he lived in, and some teachers' notes about Riddle, as well as some details from his general profile."
"Alright, you got it," Neville said, pocketing the parchment Harry had given him and rising from his seat. He took out his wand and started running it up and down his obvious scar. It shimmered, and then disappeared completely, while suddenly Neville grimaced uncomfortably. "Fucking arse this is annoying," Neville growled. "I feel so…stuffy!"
"Aren't you used to the concealment charm by now, Neville?" Harry asked.
"No!" Neville said. "And I know it's a good price to pay so that nobody can notice this nifty piece of magic you made for me so I can hide my scar, but do you realize how hard it is going around school feeling as if something's trying to choke my neck?"
"Sorry Neville," Harry said. "But it's necessary."
"Never mind," Neville grumbled. He glanced at Harry and folded his arms. "Right then. I'll send you the information you want in a few days."
"Thanks," Harry said.
"So, when will I see you again?" Neville asked.
"Maybe next week," Harry promised. "I've got something to do right now, so I'll be busy. I'll be dropping by the Room of Requirement, so we might catch each other."
"Okay, then," Neville said. "Goodbye." He held out his hand and Harry shook it, after rising from his seat as well. Neville was about to turn to Disapparate, but he paused.
"Harry…good luck," he said, and twisted around, popping away while the Notice-Me-Not Charms prevented the muggles from noticing the magic.
Harry soon followed Neville, a smile on his lips in fondness.
• • • • •
The weekend that came a few days after that meeting had Harry lying on his stomach on a building yet again, but this time it was for a less than savory reason.
He had taken to spying on his target, trying to spot a routine from his spot on the roof. Today, the man had not left the house for the weekend and so it was the perfect opportunity to strike.
Jonathan Reinseld. A muggle-born wizard who worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a secretary, age 22. A generally antisocial person, he worked for Rapsneck Welerby, a high ranking official in the Auror Office. He had no friends and certainly no relatives, as he was an orphan. He was therefore the perfect candidate, but it had taken Harry a full day to find him, when he had been sifting through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's files. He wanted someone who worked for someone high in the Ministry, while he remained without contact with much people. Close friends and relatives would have noticed a change within the attitude of Reinseld.
He had performed an analysis over the wards and the protection of the one-story house that seemed too large for a single man. There were the standard Ministry protection wards, to which he held deep contempt. They were far too easy to compromise if you knew the trick. So, they would be down in five minutes max. No, what worried Harry was the two Aurors that were patrolling the area, when they had no business to be there, since Reinseld was a secretary. He judged that they wouldn't notice if he took off the wards, but the moment he went into the house, he doubted that Reinseld would not immediately alert them that there was an intruder.
Harry moved flat across the roof, making sure that his movements produced absolutely no sound. Glad that the building was simply one-story like its surroundings, he leapt from the top of the roof to the garden below, and quickly made sure to climb over the fence, his back bent and his eyes darting left and right. He felt jittery, for he was worried that an Auror might turn a corner and spot him approaching the house. He turned his green eyes to the house before him, and he quickly approached its whitewashed picket-fence in a quick stride.
The moon shining down on him while he turned his head left and right, he drew his wand and with a quick sweep of his wand, wrapped his magic around the section of the wards in front of him.
It would be easy to breach in the same way he had breached Dumbledore's wards, this time because the wards were simple and sloppily made. But that would take too long. Thankfully, he'd discovered a shortcut through Ministry wards.
He sifted his magic through the five layers of wards, for two specific wards. The intruder charm, which he otherwise would have slaved over because of its enormous latch around its designated area, and the human-repelling charm both had a similarity in their structure. It would therefore be easy to attach the two wards to each other, using that similarity as the focal point at which the wards could be fused. This would have the effect of negating the magic of both wards, as the differences in the wards would conflict and cause them to shut down from an overload.
And that was what he did. He ignored the nasty aggressive wards that activated on either two conditions; if the intruder charm, which came first, was activated when someone stepped in from outside uninvited and if forceful magic was used to tear apart the human-repelling ward. They would also be negated anyway when he finished his work.
He waved his wand in sharp, straight movements, using a hook-shaped stiff pole of magic to twist both wards around the focal point and then attach them there. He didn't do this to the entire wards, instead using his magic to form a hole in the wards. He licked his lips nervously, hoping against hope that the Aurors wouldn't show up while he was still working.
After five minutes of working on the wards, he finally had an open, man-sized hole in the wards, through which he quickly flitted through. He flicked his wand again and the wards resealed the hole, leaving no trace of a disturbance. He turned to the house, his back still bent as he painstakingly made his way across the house garden. He pressed himself against the cool wall of the house, edging along the wall until he reached a window. Peering into it, he found that the room was empty, so he slid the window open as quietly as possible.
He swung his leg over the windowsill, following that by his entire body. Nervously, he closed the window again, his eyes darting to the room he was currently in.
He was in an undecorated bedroom, with only a desk, a wardrobe, and a four-poster bed. He walked to the door, tiptoeing. Grabbing the door knob, he tried to open it, only to find that it was locked from the outside. He held his wand to the door.
Alohamora!
He put as little power as he could into his wand.
The door's lock simply clicked open and Harry tried to open it again, this time the door opening with a noticeable creak. Wincing, Harry paused in the opening of the door. He cocked an ear to listen to any sounds, but there were none. After a small bit of time waiting, Harry nodded to himself and decided that no one would come. Deducing that it would be no good to continue opening the door, he stood stiff and edged sideways out of the doorway. Once outside, he studied the dark hallway that he was in.
A door was in front of him and another was at his left where it ended in a dead end. Light shone from his right and he could hear the rustling of parchment. Nodding firmly to himself, he assumed that this was the right direction. He quickly stalked quietly across the brown carpet below him, taking a turn while sticking to the walls.
He found himself in a living room. There was a single armchair in front of a telly, while a desk was set behind that chair. The back of a head stocked with neat brown hair was bent over parchments that lay atop the desk.
This was him.
Jonathan Reinseld.
Harry raised his wand.
A sizzling beam of red light moved forth.
Several things happened at once. The man had bent in his seat to reach for the bottom drawer in his desk. This inadvertently caused the Stunning Curse to pass over Reinseld's head and strike the television head on, cracking its screen and sending it flying across the room to crash on a wall. Jonathan, catching sight of Harry's cloaked and hooded form as he bent, turned around, a shocked expression on his face.
Harry, cursing that he missed, released another blast of red light at his quarry, but the man jumped from his chair and rolled away from the rushing curse. Reinseld whipped out his wand, directing it at Harry.
"Effligo!"
A blast of blue light shot out of the black wand and headed towards Harry, who, surprised, batted at the curse with his wand-tip, which was glowing with a yellow light. The curse was parried and hit the wall to Harry's right, striking it with a large bang and completely shattering the concrete, where it fell to the ground in a hail of debris and shrapnel.
Harry turned upon Reinseld, his intense green eyes scanning him with new wariness. This was not going well, for he had planned to enter the building, stun the man, and quickly do what he had to do. Now the Aurors were alerted and had to be on their way. He certainly didn't need them to arrest him, as he knew, what with Dumbledore's influence and Scrimgeour's ire, he would surely be sent to Azkaban without a word spoken. That was why he now needed to subdue his rebelling quarry, before the Aurors showed up.
But it was easier said than done.
And Reinseld, in the unlikely case the Aurors had not heard the first bang, sent a shower of red sparks into the air, where they passed through the roof to hover in the sky, an omen of what was happening within. Growling, Harry jabbed his wand and all the furniture within the room became a growling horde of bloodthirsty creatures, which included a vicious tiger, several wolves, and abnormally large eagles. Harry waved his wand, shouting, "Imperio!" As the animals' minds were easy to control, he preformed the curse only one time over a large area and they were all under his beck and call.
They vaulted at Reinseld, who, caught by surprise, quickly cast a standard shield around him that prevented anything physical from entering. The approaching monsters were thrown forcefully away from Reinseld, but the shield was broken by a blast of purple magic sent at the Ministry worker. He ducked under the curse, his wand rising again, first pointed at the fast approaching animals.
"Efflixi!"
A stronger beam of blue light, brighter than the first curse, shot out of his wand into the midst of the group of wolves, where they proceeded to explode in a rain of fleshy shrapnel, some of which landed upon both wizards. Harry shook the disgusting pieces of flesh from him, keeping his eyes on the wizard before him. Harry raised his wand just as Reinseld's wand alternated to him, as the blast had also pushed back the other approaching animals from its force.
"Plouplum!"
Sound resembling those a machine gun reached Harry's ears, just as a flurry of muggle-bullets were propelled from the man's wand, one by one, to fly across the room at Harry. Growling, Harry set up a large yellow shield at his wand-tip. He held it brandished in front of him, one hand attached to his wand arm, for support as he expected a jarring conflict.
And it was good, that, for the bullets hit the shield with large force, causing Harry, who had rooted his feet stiffly to the floor, to be pushed back. More bullets struck the shield, making it buckle and shake uncontrollably as Harry struggled to keep his hand straight and not allow any bullet to come through his defenses. He had to get this man down right now! He didn't have much time…
Just as the flurry of bullets paused, Harry moved, twisting flexibly around a shimmering blue blast of magic sent by Reinseld. With speed, he half-dived to the floor, crashing his wand to the carpet just as it started to glow with white light.
"Contremisco!"
A flash of white light and some immaterial force quickly tore through the wooden floorboards as it vaulted across the room towards his quarry. Right in front of Reinseld, the floor suddenly exploded as tremor of magic used the last of its strength to blast part of the earth and much of the floorboards right at the man, who quickly whipped his wand and set up a shield around him that protected him from the storm of debris. But Harry pressed his advantage, sending his animals after Reinseld. For good measure, he blasted a red Stunning Curse at Reinseld.
The Stunning Curse broke through the shield and Reinseld was once again forced to duck. The shield shattered and left an opening for the incoming animals, which quickly attacked him with sharp claws and talons. The wizard was soon pinned to the ground by the animals. But coils of fire erupted from his wand and attacked the mind-controlled creatures, setting their feathers and fur on fire. The Imperius Curse quickly lost its effect as the animals screamed in pain, their systems overloading. They tried to move, to get rid of the fire, but they ended up as dying forms on the ground, wilting from the burning fire.
A blast of red light shot out at Harry from the wreckage, but he quickly sidestepped it just as he heard the front door being blasted open.
The Aurors had arrived.
Harry swirled his cloak around with him as he turned on his feet. Unknown to Reinseld, he used his wand to tap himself on the forehead, a grimace of concentration on his face.
He vanished.
Two burly Aurors burst into the room, their eyes widening comically as they viewed the wreckage around Reinseld. The wizard was holding his wand high wand, his eyes darting all over the room, with no one else in sight.
"Bloody hell!" exclaimed the leader. "What in Merlin's name happened here?!"
"Keep out your wands out, you bloody idiots!" Reinseld exclaimed when the Aurors tried to tuck their wands into their blood-red battle robes. "He's still here!"
"What?!" the other Auror said, swiveling around in his spot. "Where is he?"
But too late. While they were talking, Harry had been attached to the roof, his wand moving precisely and firmly in complex movements that would've compromised him if he tried to do this difficult magic in the middle of a direct duel. He was invisible, and none of them could see him. But now, twisting, coiling ropes of red light erupted from his wand, directed at all three enemies, as Harry muttered, "Evincio!"
The two burly Aurors, not so thick as to not notice the magic, summoned up standard shields, assuming wrongly that the curse was a Stunning Curse. Two of the ropes of magic were repelled by the shields, but they coiled around both Aurors and pinned their arms to their sides, shields and all. Reinseld, surprisingly recognizing the magic for what it was, quickly summoned a wall of debris. The last rope of magic fizzled out after it struck the wall, hovering in the air as nothing more than red, shimmering sparks. The wall of debris was brought down to its original scattered state, and Reinseld let out a blast of blue magic from his wand, sending it at the spot the magic had come from.
Harry jumped out from his position as the beam of blue light struck the roof and blasted a hole in it. Now, the particular property of this invisibility charm that you need to know is that abrupt movements cause it to fall completely. Invisibility charms that had the same effect as invisibility cloaks were an impossibility. All invisibility charms had some sort of deficiency.
So Harry now appeared visible before his three enemies. While the Aurors struggled with their bonds, Reinseld leveled his wand again and let forth another surge of blue, sizzling magic, which Harry sidestepped, flicking his wand sharply.
A yellow beam of magic shot out from his wand. Reinseld made to dodge, but the magic was aimed at a strange tapestry in the corner of the room. The metal animal that had once been sitting stiffly quickly unfolded itself from its seat and leapt at Reinseld, who, with a blast of blue magic, completely annihilated it.
By this time, an Auror had found a way to rid himself of his bond. He had pointed his wand at his own shield and blasted a Reductor Curse right at it. After realizing that the spell could not escape the shield, he poured more power into it and then the shield shattered, along with the rope of magic that had been binding him. Reinseld and the anonymous Auror directed their wands at Harry and blasted twin surges of magic at him.
The two spells about to collide with him, Harry gritted his teeth and quickly weaved flimsily between the twin beams of light, the electrifying magic causing his hairs to stand up on their ends.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the last Auror attempt to get out of his bonds the same as the other had done. He knew he had to end this fast, so he raised his wand high, and pouring power into it, barked out a simple spell.
"Lumos!"
A bright flash of white light spread, first from the wand, then across the room, blanketing all of their eyes with blinding white.
Sharp cries rang out in alarm, two of which quickly turned to pain, and the light vanished.
Harry was standing behind the two Aurors, his wand still leveled. The two stiff figures before him had two darts sticking out from their backs. They stood there, for a few moments, stationary, and then proceeded to crumple to the ground in a heap, while Reinseld looked on with horror.
A hand of Harry's snuck into the inside of his cloak, producing another dart, which he held in his palm, a motion that did not go unnoticed by Reinseld. Harry flicked his wand sharply and the dart flew at impossible speeds, straight towards the ready man. A flickering shield formed an arc around the wizard, just before the dart became close. It struck the shield with a resounding clang, the magic behind the banisher trying to push the dart through the shield. But it was impenetrable and the dart fell to the ground. But suddenly, the room seemed to darken…
A bolt of lightening had shot out of Harry's wand, zigzagging across the room faster than the eye could see. It struck the shield, which tried to repel it, but as since the lightening was in fact purely made of magic, it pierced the physical- repelling shield forcefully, striking the unprepared Reinseld in the chest. He was blasted across the room and hit the wall, falling into an unconscious heap, quite similar to the Aurors. Harry, sighing in relief, lowered his wand, and turned to the wreckage.
Well, he thought wryly, it seemed as if destruction followed him wherever he went. First Dumbledore's office, now this. He moved his wand to clear the mess, but before he could move more than an inch, a soft beep that had gone unnoticed during the loud fight finally registered in his still adrenaline-influenced mind. He looked around, shaken, until he discovered that the sound came from the leader of the two Aurors. He stepped to the man and dug his hand into the pocket of his blood-red robes, taking out a strange object.
It was circular and made of black stone. There was a wand-slot to cast a certain spell into and there were also yellow letters, spelling M.O.M, which circled the slot.
Harry cursed.
This was a standard Auror magical object, called a Zoner, used to call for backup. The Auror office would be alerted and they would detect the area the call came from, where they would send larger forces to help.
He had no idea how long the Aurors would take to get to the house, but he knew he had to hurry. He quickly traveled to the unconscious Reinseld, flicking his wand. The limp form of Reinseld floated after him as he left the room, walking down the corridor he had come from. He raked his eyes for anything he could use, spotting a closet embedded in the wall of the corridor. He nodded, sliding the door to the closet open and depositing Reinseld in there. He bent to Reinseld's lying body, tapping the man with his wand on the head. Reinseld disappeared, his transparent body now showing exactly what was under him.
He had Disillusioned the man.
He closed the closet and left the hallway, going back to the ruined living room. He glanced at the Aurors.
"Now what should I do with you?"
• • • • •
The alarms had blared off nearly forty-five minutes ago and only now were they on their way to the attacked residence.
Captain Hall Short only hoped that they reached there before Jonathan Reinseld fell.
What with the Auror Office being as unorganized as it was, it had taken almost fifteen minutes for those in charge of the alarms to find a free Auror squad and send them on their merry way. However, Auror policy had the squad chase down the commander of their division, who seemed to never be in his office. They had to scour the length of the Ministry. This time, they got lucky and found him in twenty minutes, but then they had to wait for the commander to finish his conversation with some official in another department. Apparently the commander had far better things to do than talk to a couple of 'low-ranking dogs'.
After the commander had signed the damned warrant, the Aurors had quickly Apparated to the location, muttering under their breath about some arrogant shit of a commander. They arrived at the street, their eyes taking in the stationary house of Jonathan Reinseld. It certainly didn't look like it was being attacked.
Captain Short took out a large, brass baton from his pocket, tapping it against a particular spot on the wards, which soon fell with nary a sound. The Auror squad rushed down the gravel path, flinging open the front door. It didn't take them long to find the source of the trouble.
The living room was in absolute shambles. There were holes in the walls and the roof, there were scorch marks, and strangely, there were burned carcasses on the floor. They didn't enjoy the scenery for too long, however, instead turning their eyes to man standing before two of their fellow Aurors.
It was Jonathan Reinseld.
He turned his brown eyes to them and he scowled.
"Well, look who decided to show up?" Reinseld snarled.
Captain Hall Short was a man who followed procedure, and he stuck to it. No matter that he felt like strangling the man before him. "Mr. Reinseld, please explain what took place in this room and why there are two unconscious Aurors in front of you?" he said.
"It's all your bloody fault," muttered Reinseld. "Some bloke decided he'd like to attack my house. Care to tell me why the bloody hell the wards didn't do what they were supposed to do?"
Captain Short winced. He heard this every time with the survivors of an attack against a Ministry-protected house.
"I repeat," Captain Short said, "what took place in this room?"
"I told you what the fuck happened here," growled Reinseld. "Some bloke tried to attack my house. You bloody Aurors are useless. It didn't take long for whoever it was to take them out of the fight. Had to kick him out myself." He kicked one of the sleeping Aurors in the side.
Captain Short turned to his men. "Take a look round the house, find if anything's still there," he ordered. They scrambled to obey.
He nodded to Reinseld. "We apologize for any inconvenience," he said. "But please tell us what happened in detail, what went on in this room.
"A bloke barged his way into this room," Reinseld said, rolling his eyes. "He tried to curse me, but he missed. We started dueling and he was damn good too, but I bet he didn't expect me to fight back properly." He smirked. "I didn't get high NEWTs for nothing you know. I alerted these useless lumps and they turned up. Bloke fought back, but it was three against one. He took them out, but I managed to kick him out of my house."
"Thank you, sir," he said. "As reparations for the inconvenience, we shall return the house to its original state. The muggle-repelling charms should have done their jobs in not alerting the muggles to the chaos that occurred here."
"Forget it," grunted Reinseld. "I'll do it myself. Bet you can't do anything right, you bloody Aurors."
Short gritted his teeth, glaring at Reinseld. It was long gap of silence until his men, after finishing searching the house, returned to the living room. "There's nothing there, sir," one of them informed him.
"Very well," Short said. "Thank you, Mr. Reinseld, for your cooperation. The Auror Office will try to get to the bottom of this situation. Expect new security around the house. We shall be visiting again tomorrow. The Ministry of Magic wishes you…a pleasant evening."
As Captain Short left Reinseld's house, he decided to retract his previous statement.
He wished that Reinseld had just bloody died.
And this is the fourth installment in The Outsider and it is by far the longest. Expect chapters of this length every week. For the past chapter, I kept thinking, oh, I want this chapter to be this long, but I ended up making them shorter than what I originally wanted.
I thank you all for your reviews. I always like to hear your thoughts on each chapter.
For the newspaper article, I didn't write it its entirety because I'm no journalist and it would certainly have looked like utter bullshit. So I just summarized the conclusions Harry gained from reading the paper.
The dialogue between Neville and Harry was hopefully good. Please tell me your opinion on this. For all those who thought I wasn't going to keep Neville in the story, here you go.
I've also edited Chapter 2. It's just a little addition in the dialogue, nothing big, but I think it works better this way. And this is the final edit to Chapter 2.