A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to anyone celebrating that holiday today. I myself am thankful for the very kind reviews you all have written. I'm also thankful for one of my close friends who goes by the name SoylentPudding on this site for encouraging me to write this and for helping generate ideas. This story would not be what it is without him. Enjoy your turkey everyone.

Chapter 4

Harry slept surprisingly well. When he awoke a few hours later he felt groggy and checked the clock, it was just before midnight, local time. The time zone difference had thrown him off. Harry was never able to travel very far and the experience of what muggles called "jet lag" was unknown to him. At the moment though it was working. Now was the time he needed to be awake anyways. Harry said goodbye to Hedwig, he had been instructed not to bring her. He grabbed his trunk and met Hermione and Ron waiting outside his room. They two had their trunks. It felt for a moment as though they were going to Hogwarts. They walked in silence through the hallways until they got to their destination. They walked through a set of double doors and stepped into a room the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Instead of students and the house tables, they found it packed with men and women in lab coats hurrying about.

At the far end of the room stood a large metal box, which from the outside, looked to be about the size of Harry's old room back at Privet Drive. There was a large door on it, about the size of a garage door, made of heavy, reinforced metal. In the center of the larger garage sized door was a man sized hatch. Stenciled in black, thick letters on the door was "TDC". Harry could figure what that stood for. The room itself looked to be connected to a vast set pipes and various hoses. The pipes ran out of the top and overhead and into the walls and ceiling. The Chamber almost seemed to be in the middle of sort of spiderweb. Harry followed them with his eyes into the walls and noticed that the walls and ceilings themselves all looked to be covered in strange lines. They vaguely resembled animals of sorts. Harry recalled reading about lines like these. "Nazca Lines" they were called, after the location they were first found. They were used to direct the ambient magic in an area into a more concentrated form. Based on just how packed the walls and floor were with them Harry figured this required a lot of magic channeled very precisely. Across the room there was an outline of some animal Harry couldn't make out exactly. It appeared to be a sort of bird like creature and was completely clear of any equipment.

At the TDC itself stood Petraeus, 20 men dressed in military fatigues with large bags slung over their shoulders, and a couple of men in lab coats. Petraeus was speaking with the men in lab coats. Harry led the way across the room, carefully trying to avoid running into any of the very busy workers. The men paid them no mind as they walked through. He heard snippets of conversation as he weaved his way between heavy equipment and the men and women who ran it.

"We've completed the checklist, everything checks out," a young man in a lab coat said.

"Good, are the new elemental stones working?" A woman asked.

"Yes ma'am, they appear to be at least." As they approached Petraeus, Harry caught the last few sentences coming from one of the men in lab coats speaking to him.

"Denver reported. They've begun funneling magic towards us. Once we've opened the door we need to get everyone through quickly in order to minimize the disruptions to the country's rune network."

"Very good. There shouldn't be much disruption this late anyways."

"Yes sir. The rune network, like the power grid, doesn't get as much use when everyone goes to bed for the night." Petraeus nodded to the man dismissing him. A man also in military fatigues standing next to Petraeus addressed them in a commanding voice.

"About time you all got here. My name is Major Elliot and I'm in charge of teaching you all everything it takes to keep your sorry asses from dying. If you learn from me and do what I say you'll be able to destroy any enemy force that is unlucky enough to cross your path. Do you understand?" The soldiers standing there all responded in unison.

"Sir, yes, sir!" Drowning out Harry, Ron and Hermione's much quieter response. This earned them a glare from the Major.

"When you address a superior officer the first and last words out of your mouth are to be 'sir' do I make myself clear?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Harry and friends replied, though not as loudly as the soldiers.

"I'm sorry I can't hear you."

"Sir, yes, sir!" They replied much louder this time.

"Good. Now shall we?" Petraeus stepped forward and introduced the two men next to him.

"This is Dr. Eugene Stoner, one of our very talented wizards and this is Charles von Trapp-"

"Sir that man is a dark wizard!" Hermione blurted out. Her wand was in her hand and pointed at him. Harry and Ron started reaching for theirs, "He worked on the side of Grindelwald during the War and designed all sorts of terrible spells and instruments!" Petraeus glared at her. No one else moved. Petraeus was not used to be interrupted but before he could respond von Trapp replied to Hermione in a distinct German accent.

"Yez, it iz true that my magical discoveries were utilized by Grindelvald. Discovering new magic vas alvays my passion. I only invented spells and devices," he paused for a moment, "using them was, I'm sorry to say, not my department." Hermione looked as though she was about to say something else but stopped.

"Yes, thank you von Trapp," Petraeus said after he finished. He glared at Hermione until she was thoroughly miserable. It was a look only a man at the top of the military hierarchy could give. "Now as I was about to say, running the TDC requires a significant amount of magic to hold the door open. We'll be using magic directed from all over the country, magic that is normally used for different things. Once that door is open everyone needs to get through the door as quickly as possible. Von Trapp and Stone will be focusing the magic throughout the night and will be switching off throughout the night to fuel the chamber. Von Trapp, are you ready?"

"Ja, I believe so." He walked across the room and stood in the center of the bird like line and began a low murmuring chant.

"What's he doing?" asked Ron. Eugene Stoner stepped forward to answer. He had a grey, flat top military haircut and pale white skin. Deep wrinkles had developed around his eyes and mouth. He looked to be over 90 years old.

"We built this facility here because of it's proximity to the Navajo and Anasazi, or Ancestral Puebloans, major holy sites. There's a major ley line that flows out of their cities and runs right through the desert, pooling here in this dried lake bed. It gives us a lot of magic to tap into for some of the research that gets done here. Sometimes we need more though. For that we have to access the National Rune Network. Magical Britain has an older one ours is based off of though with some improvements made. Back when we built the Eisenhower Interstate System we built a parallel runes system in the roads to channel and direct the ambient magic in the country. The whole network itself is controlled from a facility disguised as the Denver Airport. As of," he looked down at his watch and clipboard, "6 and a half minutes ago, they began sending a lot of magic our way. Most of it is nightly excess capacity in fact. That much magic though needs to be directed or we would have some problems. Von Trapp is taking care of that side for us right now."

"Oh, wicked!" Said Ron. As the chanting continued Harry could distinctly feel the magical energy rising in the room. This was a lot of power. Suddenly it stopped building and he felt it being drained away. The TDC door next to them rattled and a set of gauges next to it spun to life. Eugene Stoner examined them and compared their readings with the numbers on his clipboard.

"Readings are in the green zone. We may proceed." Dark, shaded goggles were passed out by a lab assistant and everyone quickly put theirs on. They were large enough to easily fit over Harry's glasses. With them on he could barely see a thing. He considered taking them off for a moment when Stoner opened the hatch. Bright white light filled the room. Harry could see quite easily now. The soldiers quickly filed one by one into the hatch door. Finally it was Harry's turn. As he stepped closer the light became blindingly bright, even with the eye protection on. He had to clench his eyes shut as he stepped through the door. As soon as he was through the door he felt it vanish instantly. Harry felt snow crunch beneath his feet. He opened his eyes and removed his safety goggles as he continued moving forward.

Harry was standing in the middle of a forest. A light layer of snow lay on the ground. He let out a breath in awe and saw his breath in the air. He turned back to see the outline of the doorway behind them hanging in the air, suspended by nothing. Looking through the door he could see nothing, just blackness. Ron and Hermione stepped through a moment later carrying their trunks with them both also in awe. The outline of the doorway vanished a moment later, no trace of it remained. A few yards away the soldiers all stood equally in awe at the scene. Major Elliot then addressed them.

"Welcome to Narnia."

"What!" Hermione said. "I thought that was just a muggle story! Er, sir." She quickly added.

"It is," he replied, "but we needed a better name for the world inside that gets created by the Time Dilation Chamber other than 'The Inside of the Time Dilation Chamber'. Look around, this can hardly be called a Chamber. This is a whole world, a whole infinite pocket universe actually, contained within the finite bounds of the chamber you saw earlier. Try not to think too hard about all the implications of that right now. People a lot smarter than any of us are studying them. We have six months and a lot of work to do. It's time to get started."

In a dimly lit pub just down the street from Oxford University a few patrons sat at the bar eating their meals and having a pint or two. Outside a thunderstorm raged. A modestly dressed gentleman chatted idly with the barman about how uncommon such weather was this time of the year. Tonks sat at the bar pretending to read a book. She had changed her hair to dark brown shoulder length and wore blue jeans, a black turtleneck, and a loose fitting jacket. The jacket nicely covered her HK USP 45 Tactical in her shoulder holster. She looked as though she could be a student at the nearby university. After dropping of Potter, Mad-Eye had insisted on coming here. He told her that it was the prearranged rendezvous point he and the Minister had set up in case something like this happened. If there was the slightest chance he was still alive, then he would likely come here.

Tonks glanced at the mirror behind the bar as another would be patron entered the pub to get out of the rain. The mirror provided her with an excellent view of the bar without her having to turn her head to look around. As with any pub near a college, this one normally attracted students looking for a place to study away, or a place to drink away their studies. Tonight though, none were present, casualties of the less attended summer term. For residents of the area it meant a nice respite from the usual bustle the students brought with them. Most people were enjoying a quiet night out, despite the weather. No one paid attention to the man seated in the back corner booth of the pub reading the Financial Times. Were the barman to give it any thought he would have been unable to be sure when the man had come in or how long he had been there at all.

Alastor Moody sat almost entirely concealed behind the paper. However, he wasn't reading it. His magical eye could easily see through the paper and was constantly observing the entire pub as well as anyone passing by the pub on the street. He had insisted on coming here almost immediately after dropping Potter off. Tonks and Moody were still officially Aurors. After Voldemort's coup the two had received messages telling them that Potter, and a provided list of known associates, had attempted to undermine the Ministry and were to be arrested on sight. All force necessary was permitted. The last instruction had only been given once, briefly towards the end of the first war against Voldemort. It authorized the use of Unforgivable Curses. Their messages also instructed them to personally report to the Ministry immediately.

"Do they really expect us to be so stupid?" Tonks had asked.

"Well, it would be the last thing they would expect us to do. But then again that's why they would probably expect it." Moody had prepared for such a possibility. Kingsley Shacklebolt had sent a message earlier that the Minister's fate was unknown but that he may still be alive. They had waited for hours at the pub hoping he would show up. Tonks was beginning to feel like it was a waste of time. Moody himself was starting to give up hope the Minister was still alive. Finally it looked like their patience had paid off. A man with a raincoat pulled up over his head entered the pub. Tonks noted him immediately. His face was concealed from the patrons but Moody's eye could easily see that it was Scrimgeour, or at least, someone who wanted to look like him.

Scrimgeour surveyed the scene. His hand was in his pocket and gripped his wand tightly. The past day had been a shock to him. It had only been with a tremendous amount of luck that he had escaped death at the hands of some of Voldemort's followers earlier that day. He had hidden out for a few hours and nursed a couple wounds he had received in the fight. He knew he had to let the public know he was still alive and in fact had not decided to retire and go on an "extended vacation to rethink his life", as the evening edition of the Prophet had stated. Unfortunately he didn't know who he could turn to. If he approached the Prophet directly or anyone who worked for them he had no doubt he would be killed immediately. It was with great reluctance, and a large amount of desperation that he had decided on this meeting at all. Scrimgeour spotted who he assumed was Moody in the corner and approached carefully. Moody lowered the paper to his lap leaving his hand under it, concealing his wand which was pointed at Scrimgeour. His regular and magical eye locked on him.

"What was the curse you used to take down your first dark wizard as an Auror?" Moody asked pointedly.

"It wasn't a curse, it was the Tempest Jinx which I used to blast Jugson while he was holed up behind cover. Now you tell me, where did you get your magic eye from?"

"It goes by many names, probably the oldest of which is The Eye of Horus. I got it by defeating a minor dark lord in Scandinavia named Quisling." Both men relaxed slightly. Moody's magical eye went back to scanning the bar. They had each accompanied the other on both of those missions. Moody had been Scrimgeour's partner when he first joined the ranks of the Aurors. After Moody captured his magical eye though the two had been assigned new partners. The mission had been unauthorized and though no one could prove anything they didn't have to know something wrong had happened and split them up. The truth was both were secretly glad to move on to different partners. Moody felt as if Scrimgeour was too ambitious and eager to please his superiors, Scrimgeour meanwhile, felt as though Moody was somewhat fanatical when it came to defeating dark wizards. The two had remained in touch though and it had paid off.

"Where have you been? How did they get you?" Moody asked.

"Pius Thicknesse. Either he's one of them or under the imperius curse. He was able, probably, to place the curse on all my staff, unless they were all in on it too, and during a meeting they were able to take me. They dragged me to Voldemort personally who tortured me for information on the location of Potter. I told him to go bugger himself. Thankfully in the sole of my shoe I had carefully concealed a portkey and was able to activate it and escape to a safehouse I had established back in my old Auror days. I kept a spare wand there and some galleons and considered what to do next and, well, here we are."

"Here we are. Well Minister, to bring you up to date, Thicknesse has since presented the Wizengamot your resignation."

"I signed no such document!" The anger was palpable in his voice. His teeth were gritted and he spoke in almost a hiss.

"As the head of DMLE he is the second in line for Minister should the Minister position be unexpectedly vacated in a time of war. A measure, no doubt, established to allow for quick transition in a time of crisis. You know, if I recall one particularly farsighted wizard objected to that law for this very reason and was called 'overly paranoid.'" Scrimgeour glared at Moody, he remembered who that wizard had been. Moody just smiled both his eyes locked onto the Minister's. "Of course, were he around I'm sure he would be too professional to say 'I told you so.'"

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty." Scrimgeour said teeth tightly clenched. He was too old and the day had been too long for this.

Two men entered the pub and sat down at a table a few feet away. Moody remained intently focused on Scrimgeour as the two talked more quietly now.

"We need to let everyone know you're alive. Most people have been able to figure out there's been a coup by the sharp change in Ministry policy. The fact that you're alive should allow us to rally some support and we could potentially regain control. The benefit of this is that most of Voldemort's moles in the Ministry have now revealed themselves. If we move quickly we could potentially take them all at once. We could end the war in a day or two now that we know you're alive."

"Yes I know, but we need to do something first. Do you know where Potter is?"

"I might, why?"

"I have to get this to him." Scrimgeour pulled out a thick envelope from beneath his jacket.

"What is it?"

"Important. I'll tell you when we get somewhere less exposed."

"You're right, come on let's go." The two stood to leave when it happened. Moody felt the magic building in the air. The pair that had just entered the pub had drawn their wands. They were fast, Moody and Scrimgeour were faster. Tonks, however, was fastest. Tonks stood behind them, her USP 45 equipped with a silencer. Normally "silencers" do nothing of the sort and are better termed "suppressors." Gunshots are incredibly loud. Normally, rounds fired from this pistol are around 160 decibels, louder than a jet engine at take off. A top of the line suppressor can maybe reduce that to 90-100 decibels, about the volume of a pneumatic nail gun. Quieter, but far from the musical pew pew pewthey're portrayed as having in Hollywood films. The sound primarily comes from four sources: the propellant in the cartridge combusting, the muzzle blast, the sonic boom created by the bullet breaking the sound barrier, and mechanical sounds created by the moving parts of a semi-automatic weapon. Even with magic it takes an elegant ballet of charms and mechanical tricks to completely dampen all these sources.

The combustion of the propellant in the cartridge is actually relatively quiet and easily silenced with the application of a silencing charm on the weapon itself. This same charm also takes care of any mechanical sounds generated by the weapon as well. The next source is trickier. A majority of the sound is produced when the rapidly expanding heat and gas created by the propellant pushes the bullet itself out of the barrel. When the expanding gas slams into the relatively still air it produces a significant amount of noise called the "muzzle blast". It's the same phenomenon that causes a "pop" when a champagne bottle is uncorked. Because the sound is produced outside the weapon a wizard or witch cannot eliminate it by casting silencio on it. Instead a suppressor attachment is required.

Suppressors work by providing additional space, internal baffles, for the expanding gasses to go before the bullet exits the barrel. In ordinary suppressors this still produces some noise. However, because this sound is contained within the suppressor, a separate silencing charm employed here can almost entirely eliminate this source of noise. The final major source of noise comes from the sonic boom a bullet makes when it breaks the sound barrier. The muzzle blast and sonic boom, which account for the lion's share of the sound, happen so close to each other that they are indistinguishable to the human ear. Overcoming the sonic boom would have required an even trickier set of solutions. Tonks sidestepped this problem entirely by using a pistol that fired .45 ACP rounds. When fired from a pistol, as she was, the round was subsonic yet was still quite powerful due to its size. With a little bit of carefully applied magic and some mechanical knowledge this weapon was transformed into a truly silenced pistol. The only sound was a quiet wiz the bullets would make as they traveled through the air. Only detectable if fired close to you.

Neither of the assailants detected anything though. Tonks quickly fired two rounds, one for each, into the base of their skulls. At this close range, Tonks could be very precise and she aimed carefully for the base of their skulls, about an inch and a half above their hairline. The large .45 round easily passed through the thin layer of bone destroying the their brain stem and cerebellum instantly before continuing to penetrate further. This hardly mattered. With the brain stem and cerebellum destroyed and their spinal cords effectively severed the two men were dead before the round had traveled an inch through their heads. The bullets, of course, did continue traveling. One round continued entirely through and exited slightly above the assailant's right eye socket and continued on before embedding itself in one of the wooden supports for the ceiling. The bullet in the other assailant instead encountered a slightly thicker part of the skull and at a slightly different angle. It ricocheted off traveling back into the interior of the brain before coming to a halt, its energy spent. The effect was chilling. There was no jerking of either body, they weren't thrown feet across the room. They simply went limp and fell over. Dead before they hit the floor.

"Time to go." Tonks said.