Chapter 7 Back to School
Harry was not only dizzy but in extreme pain. There was only so much jostling a separated shoulder could bear. He looked up and saw the dragon was descending on him faster then he would have liked. The broom lay several feet away from him and his wand nowhere to be seen. He rolled to his side until he was able to reach out and grab the broom, and upon doing so, brought himself into a crouch before kicking off the ground.
He had hoped he had enough time to speed out from underneath the dragon that was looking to crush him under it's weight. He was close, as the dragon had to extend one of it's front paws to catch the tail end of the broom. Harry found himself tumbling from the broom for a third time, flying briefly in the air without a broom before gravity took affect and he landed hard, face first. He could feel his nose break and his lips split. His glasses were fortunate enough to be charmed unbreakable but they still smashed against his face. He could feel the blood from his nose gush down his face as blood also filled his mouth.
The world spun and he slowly pushed himself up on his good arm and looked to where the dragon was. He saw two wizards, Auxiliaries by the looks of them, shooting spells uselessly at the dragon, trying to draw it's attention way. The dragon was pissed that it was interrupted from it's meal and was thrashing about, shooting flames every which way. With a combination of defensive magic and good old fashion dodging, the Auxiliaries kept out of harms way. But Harry knew it wouldn't last. Eventually, their wands would be too slow or their feet too clumsy. He needed to do something. Yet, he could do nothing. He had no wand. His broom lay away from him, the back third of it snapped off and it's thistles scattered on the ground.
He held up his hand and concentrated. If it had worked for his broom, it should work for his wand. He concentrated as hard as he could without closing his eyes and taking them off the rampaging dragon. It took a moment but the familiar feeling of warmth spread up his arm and his phoenix feathered wand slapped into his palm.
He raised it and cast a basic explosion hex, the first thing that popped into his mind. His spells shot forward and was absorbed by the dragon's thick skin. Except the dragon roared in pain and flinched to the side. Harry's eyes furrowed in confusion. Surely his basic spell hadn't done that kind of damage?
Then he saw what had really caused the damage. Marching toward the dragon with his wand held high over his head was Dumbledore, followed by a dozen Hit-Wizards, some of whom looked to be sporting minor wounds. With a yell that Harry couldn't hear, Dumbledore moved toward the dragon as the Hit-Wizards and the two Auxiliaries ran to help against the Death Eaters.
The dragon shot a large blast of flames right at Dumbledore but the Minister simply waved his wand and formed a powerful shield that must have even blocked the heat from getting through, for he didn't look distressed at all. Harry marveled at the magic ability needed to cast defensive magic that could stand against the heat of dragon flames. The only shields he knew would still have his skin blistering.
Shaking his head, he realized he couldn't stay where he was. He needed to make sure his friends were okay. Pressed his wand to his nose, he muttered, "Episkey."
His nose snapped back into place, causing him to yelp in pain. He hadn't realized how badly broken it was. Touching gingerly around his nose, he could feel the severe swelling around it. He probably looked like complete and utter shit. That, and he felt like complete and utter shit. He tried to slowly push himself to his feet with his good arm but had to stop when he felt excruciating pain from his side. All of the tumbling and slamming into the ground must have fractured a rib or two. He didn't know anything to heal that kind of damage, but he knew a numbing spell that he quickly cast on the area.
With the pain nothing more than a dull throb now, Harry got to his feet and stumbled to the train. He saw that Dumbledore was finishing off the dragon, and Harry had no doubt he would go after Voldemort next. Although he hadn't seen the Dark Lord, the pain in his scar indicated Voldemort was near. Harry figured to leave him to those who were more capable of dealing with him, like Dumbledore.
The closer he got to the train though made it evident that not all the Death Eaters were battling the Ministry reinforcements. The flashing light of spell-fire could be seen through the windows. Harry picked up his pace.
He moved toward the back of the train, to the car door he had booby trapped earlier. A Death Eater lay on the ground, a piece of wood sticking out of his stomach. The black robe was coated in blood, and Harry found himself getting queasy at the sight. The rise and fall of the man's chest told him the Death Eater was still alive but if the man died, it would be Harry who had killed him. He cast a quick spell to help congeal the blood at the wound site and hopefully prevent him from bleeding out.
Nodding his head, he climbed into the train car and peered cautiously down the corridor. The train car appeared empty, but he didn't know for a fact if the compartments were vacant. He glanced into each one in turn and found none of them occupied.
Slowly, he opened up the doors that separated the car he was on to the car in front of it. However, after a quick search he found the train car empty, and the one beyond it was empty as well. The fourth car he entered was where Harry finally found someone. Spell fire was being exchanged by a Death Eater and a trio of students. The Death Eater would lean out of a compartment to shoot spells, while it looked like the students would just poke their wands out of the compartment and blind fire a wave of curses.
Laying on the ground in the corridor was a Hufflepuff seventh year Harry vaguely knew. The entire left side of the teen's chest was completely caved in; what looked to be the result of an over-powered bludgeoner. There was no way the Hufflepuff was alive.
Harry felt that queasy feeling in his stomach he was dealing with several moments ago return. He raised his wand, not one hundred percent confident in his ability to fight left handed, and aimed at the compartment the Death Eater was using as cover. Random spell-fire flew down the corridor toward him from the three students, but none of them were close to hitting him.
Then the Death Eater appeared, the tip of his wand glowing a bright blue. Harry recognized the explosion hex, and his mind immediately processed what the Death Eater was going to do. His wand was in motion before he could even properly decided on a course of action, his instincts taking precedent over his thoughts. Just as the Death Eater went to cast his hex, a shimmering shield of magic popped into existence not even a foot in front of him.
The explosion hex slammed into the shield, which bounced the power of the explosion off the shield and back at the caster. The Death Eater gave a yell as the force of his own spell threw him backwards, where he collided awkwardly with the bench and far wall of the compartment. Harry maneuvered into the room to see the results, and wasn't sure if he was disappointed when he saw the rise and fall of the Death Eater chest, indicating him still being alive.
He went to step back into the corridor but stopped as a spell whizzed inches in front of his nose. He had forgotten about the students for a moment.
"Friendly!" he shouted, a shield charm at the tip of his tongue as he stepped out of the compartment.
"Potter?" one of the students, a female, shouted.
Cautiously a head peaked out, and upon spotting Harry standing there, was quickly joined by an entire body. Soon Harry found himself looking at three Ravenclaw fifth years, two girls and a boy. They had some bruises and scrapes but none of them looked to be too worse for wear.
"Are you guys alright?" Harry asked.
"They got Murray," one of the girls stated, as she stared at the dead Hufflepuff.
Harry quickly conjured a sheet and laid it over the body. No need to continue the traumatizing of the three Ravenclaws. He looked up and down the corridor for a moment. Deciding what would be best to do. He couldn't stay here and protect the three and as far as he was aware, most of the Death Eaters were outside fighting the Ministry.
"The Ministry is outside taking care of the Death Eater. Best thing to do is to lock yourselves in a compartment until they give the all clear."
"What about you?" the other girl asked.
"I'm gonna see if anyone else needs help."
"You look like shit," she bluntly stated.
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I can still fight."
They nodded their heads and after a moment's hesitation scurried back into the compartment they had previously occupied and closed the door behind them. Harry heard the use of various locking charms and knew, if a Death Eater did come by, it probably wouldn't be enough to stop them, and that made him feel terrible about moving on to the next car.
Still, it needed to be done. He quickly made his way into the next car and stopped at what he saw. A female Death Eater had their back to him and Neville lay at the other end of the corridor, thrashing about and looking like he was trying to scream, but no sound was coming out.
Harry's wand snapped forward and a spell rocketed out. However, the Death Eater ducked at the last minute and the spell rocketed over her head. She turned quickly, a spell shooting at Harry, which he hastily shielded against.
"Is this ittle baby Potter?" the woman asked, looking him up and down, before cackling madly.
At once Harry knew who it was. Sirius had warned him about the woman standing in front of him; his insane and extremely powerful cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. He subconsciously took a step back and gripped his wand tighter in his hand.
"Is baby afwaid?" Bellatrix asked.
Rather than answer, Harry flicked his wand forward and shot the most powerful piercing hex he could think of, followed quickly by a bludgeoner. With a casual flick of her wand, Bellatrix swatted them both into the corridor wall at the same time.
Mentally, Harry cursed. He was no match for this woman, especially in the condition he was in. If this continued he was going to get killed. Or if what Moody told him was true, captured so he could be brought in front of Voldemort to be killed. Neither of which appealed to him. Still, he couldn't just leave Neville.
Keeping his body tense, Harry's wand cut through the air, launching a series of spells. As Bellatrix weaved a web of defensive magic to defend against his attack, Harry conjured up a few animals to attack as well. However, he found them quickly being dispatched of. And then he realized she was playing with him. Bellatrix Lestrange could easily swat him like a bug, especially in his current condition. It wasn't just that he was no match for her, it was the fact that he was severely outclassed in all aspects.
Harry watched as his last conjured snake was put down and cast the strongest cutting hex he knew. His spell was ducked under and Lestrange flicked her wand. Before he could react he was blasted sideways. The door to the compartment he was standing outside of was open, and he found himself going through the open doorway and slamming into the large, magically reinforced window that allowed the train occupants to gaze upon their surroundings as the train traveled. As Harry slid to the ground, he realized he was going to let Neville down.
Bellatrix Lestrange entered the compartment with her hand held in front of her and a curse at the tip of her tongue. As she pointed her wand down upon him, Harrry's leg jumped up and his foot connected solidly with her wrist. Bellatrix yelped in pain as the curse from her wand was forcibly redirected into the ceiling, charring a large portion of it.
"You little shit!" Bellatrix howled, stepping back.
Before Harry could react, a piercer hit him in his thigh. He bit hit tongue to prevent from crying out and for the second time that day the taste of blood filled his mouth. He spat some of it at Lestrange, the glob of blood and saliva landing on the hem of her Death Eater robe.
"If I ask the Dark Lord nicely, maybe he'll allow me to keep you as a pet," Lestrange cackled. "Think of all the fun we can have."
Harry shuddered, imagining the kind of things she would consider as fun. He was hit with another spell and found himself unable to move, realizing it must have been a variant of the full-body bind.
"Don't you go anywhere Potter, I have the wittle Longbottom heir to take care of real quick."
Lestrange turned and stepped out of the compartment, as Harry frantically tried to come up with a way out of his current predicament. He couldn't let Neville die, not like that.
Suddenly, there was shouting and Harry saw spell fire flying past the compartment door. He held his breath as the spells flew fast and furious. He was barely able to keep track of all the curses and hexes flying back and forth. Then the spells stopped and the only thing heard was shouts in the distance.
Footsteps sounded as someone padded down the corridor at a slow pace. Harry felt his heart beating wildly into his chest. Lestrange was going to come into the compartment, Neville would be dead and Harry would be on his way to Voldemort's headquarters.
"Harry?"
Except it wasn't Bellatrix Lestrange who entered his view, it was Sirius.
Harry woke in the hospital wing, making it now impossible for him to keep track of the number of times he's had a stay in the hospital wing on just his toes and fingers. His vision was blurry but that was to be expected, as he didn't think they'd let him sleep with his glasses on. Despite that, he could tell it was early morning by the dim light cast by the sun as it began its ascent over the peak of the mountains to the east.
He noticed a fuzzy shape to his right, slumped in the chair next to him and looking to be asleep. Judging from the hair, it was Hermione. Harry contemplated waking her but thought better of it. He sat up a bit before reaching over to the side table, where he felt around for a bit before discovering his glasses.
The world came into focus and he saw that every bad in the hospital wing appeared occupied. It was hard to judge though because over half of the beds, his own not included, had their curtains pulled shut around them. He wiggled himself into a sitting position and looked to see if he could find Neville, remembering the last few thoughts drifting through his mind before he had blacked out upon realizing Lestrange wouldn't be dragging him off to Voldemort. However, he couldn't see his friend anywhere.
"Hermione," he whispered, ignoring his earlier thought of letting her sleep. "Hermione."
She jolted awake, her face set in panic, before she noticed him staring at her.
"What's wrong?" she asked, noticing his panicky look.
"Where's Neville? Is he fine?" Harry frantically asked.
Hermione frowned. "He's alive but I wouldn't say he's fine."
"What happened? Tell me everything."
"Neville suffered extreme exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. Not nearly as bad as his parents, thank Merlin, but he'll be at St. Mungo's for a few weeks as he recovers; his nerves are shot. Su Li got caught in the initial blast of dragon fire and has some pretty serious burns on her upper body. She's also at St. Mungo's. No time table for her recovery yet. A lot of students suffered cuts, bruises, broken bones and the like but those two, as well as you, suffered the worst when it comes to injuries."
Harry leaned back into pillow and closed his eyes. He knew there was more.
"What else?" he whispered.
"There were four student deaths, a Hufflepuff seventh year, a Hufflepuff second year, a Ravenclaw sixth year and Jessica Irving, a fourth year in our house. You've been asleep for about fifteen hours now. The Welcoming Feast and start of school are being postponed for a week so the funerals for those killed can be attended and the wounded can heal up."
Harry opened his eyes and turned to observe Hermione. She looked tired and her eyes were red, most likely from crying. Based on what she said, besides Neville and Su, all his other friends were relatively healthy.
"What about the Ministry?"
"In order to occupy the Hit-Wizards, witches and wizards under the Imperius Curse, along with some Death Eaters and a few dark creatures, were sent out to draw attention. That meant most of the Ministry's best fighters weren't available when the attack on the Express happened. As it is, five Hit-Wizards, an Auror and a dozen Auxiliaries are dead, with another twenty or so seriously injured. The good news, if there is any in all of this, is that the Death Eaters suffered casualties too. There are eight of them dead and another five in custody. No one too important though."
Harry took a moment to process the information. Whatever Voldemort's intended target was, it looked like he hadn't achieved it. However, the fear such an attack would cause on the populace would be enough for Voldemort and his cause.
"You should go back to your dorm Hermione. I'll be fine."
She looked a little unsure before slowly standing up. "I'll be back tomorrow," she promised.
Harry gave her a small smile and nodded his head.
McGonagall talked about the tragedy of what happened at the Hogwarts Express. She talked about showing strength and how friendship and allowing others to help you, and not shutting yourself away from everyone, would make the process easier. Harry tuned her out. His generation would learn how to deal with the loss of loved ones, Voldemort would make sure of that.
The last week had been subdued to say the least. Even those students who were Voldemort supporters kept to themselves without making any trouble. Harry spent six of the seven days stuck in the hospital wing, and eventually became the only one not taken to St. Mungo's who was still recovering on that final day.
"Now I would like to introduce to you the newest members of our staff."
That got Harry's attention. He knew about three of them but he wasn't sure of the others.
"Professor Bedeau has joined the Hit-Wizards. His replacement, a former Hit-Wizard himself, is Professor Jonathon Russo." An old man with short white hair and a heavily scarred face raised his hand and waved from his seat. Harry wondered why he didn't stand until glancing under the teachers table and seeing that the man couldn't stand; he had no legs.
"Since Professor Snape is still at St. Mungo's in a coma," here everyone glanced at Harry, "Julia Richards, who has recently acquired her Potions Masters, has agreed to take over Potions until Professor Snape returns." Julia stood up, smiling brightly at everyone and waving. Harry remembered her as the Head Girl during his second year. She was cute, with brown hair that only reached her chin.
"Taking over the post of Transfiguration, a former professor from the Fresno Institute of Magic in the United States, is Caitir McGonagall, and yes she is my daughter."
A younger looking McGonagall stood and waved, though she didn't look nearly as severe. Her hair was a dark red and pulled back into a ponytail.
"With Kingsley Shacklebolt being recalled by the Ministry, the dueling post was in need of filling. Luckily we bring to you two duelist who recently participated in last years Junior European Dueling Tournament. Idalia Ortego made it to the quarter-finals." The Spanish pureblood heiress stood and waved. "We are also grateful to have the winner of the competition, Mr. Andre Peeters, here." The Belgium young man stood and waved as well.
"Finally, as some of you have noticed, we have guard animals posted all around the castle grounds. Helping take care of these animals, as well as assisting Professor Hagrid in his Care of Magical Creatures classes is Thyra Nyhus."
As Thyra stood and waved, Ron leaned over to Harry. "Hogwarts professors just got a lot better looking mate."
Harry had to agree. He already new Idalia was beautiful and Thyra was cute, but the addition of Julia, who was also cute, helped as well. Also, Caitir McGonagall was kind of pretty too, for an older broad. Who would have known anyone related to McGonagall could look anything other then stern?
The feast passed by rather quietly. Everyone was in a somber mood. Well mostly everyone. Harry couldn't help but glance at the Slytherins, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws he had seen in the last few train cars. They had known about the attack. That meant they were either Death Eaters themselves or they knew someone, most likely an older family member, who was one.
McGonagall stood, the desserts clearing from the table. She surveyed the students with somber eyes. "I can assure you that what happened last week will not take place on Hogwarts grounds. Inside these walls you are safe. The wards on Hogwarts are the strongest in the world. It would take a team of a hundred curse breakers several weeks to tear them down.
"Patrolling these grounds are forty members of the Rangers of Avalon." Murmurs went up around the hall as Harry looked around in confusion. "There is also twenty griffins and a cerberus on the ground for additional security."
"Bloody hell, not Fluffy again," Ron mumbled, hitting his head against the table.
"Who are the Rangers of Avalon?" Harry asked, confused beyond all belief.
"The Rangers of Avalon are an old order of wizards who specialize in the light arts. They've been around since the middle of the Roman empire. Witches and wizards who specialize in light magic are offered the chance to join when they graduate school. Rumor was that Dumbledore was offered a chance when he grduated Hogwarts but he didn't want to leave his fiance. They train on the Island of Avalon," Ginny explained.
"Isn't Avalon in the United Kingdom?" Harry questioned.
Ron snorted. "Harry, every witch and wizard knows Avalon is in the Mediterranean Sea, exactly in between Sicily, Italy and Sardinia. The Rangers of Avalon used to have hundreds of members but witches and wizards don't specialize in the light arts like they used to. Plus, ever since the Magical Church created the Order of David, the two organizations have been in competition over recruits, though the Order of David only takes Christians."
"Magical Church? Order of David?" Every time someone explained something to Harry he just got more and more confused.
"The Magical Church was started in the 1600's by a muggle-born wizard who's father was a priest. Jesus was magical but he did magic even today know one has any idea how he did. They were truly miraculous feats, even for a wizard. The Magical Church combines magical history with the Bible to create a religion that can be followed by magical people who are Christians and don't want to give up their religion. The Order of David was created several years after the Magical Church, during muggle persecution of witches and wizards, as protectors of magical Christians. Now a days they mostly go after vampires, werewolves and the few demons that manage to make their way into our realm. Van Helsing was the most famous member of the Order of David."
Harry looked at Hermione with his mouth agape for a second before remembering that Hermione read, a lot. It was only natural that she knew a lot about magical history, even that which didn't pertain to the United Kingdom.
"Right. So the Rangers of Avalon recognize Voldemort as a threat, apparently a dark threat since they are light wizards. In order to help fight him, they send men to guard Voldemort's most desired target, Hogwarts. They hope that the men they have posted here will prevent him from attacking."
The others nodded at Harry's word. Harry vowed that he would read up more on the history of magical society. He was tired of looking like an idiot when it came to the world he was now a part of. Clearly, there was still so much more he had to learn.
Midway through the feast, as Seamus was telling them a story of his summer vacation, Harry felt a presence behind him. Turning around, he found McGonagall standing there, looking sternly at Seamus. The Irish teen felt the disapproving look and looked up, stopping mid-sentence as his face turned red with embarrassment. He had just gotten to a part where he had met a naive muggle girl while on vacation at the beach.
"Potter," McGonagall stated, shifting her eyes to him, "please see me in my office after the feast."
"Of course Professor," Harry stated, his mind spinning as to what it could be about. Did she want to talk about the attack on the Hogwarts Express? She had ample opportunity to do so while he sat in the hospital wing, but maybe she just wanted to do it in privacy.
McGonagall made her way back to head table, leaving Seamus to finish his story. Harry tuned his friend out as his mind wandered to what McGonagall needed of him.
Harry arrived at the Headmistress' office ten minutes after everyone had left the feast. He had decided to take the long way, instead of using the various shortcuts he knew. The gargoyle was the same as ever, staring grumpily on ahead.
"Catnip."
The gargoyle sprang away and the revolving staircase appeared. Harry stepped onto it and let it carry him up to the door. Stepping forward he knocked, something he had never done to enter this office because Dumbledore always knew he was there; calling out to him before his fist could be raised.
"Come in," McGonagall called.
Harry pushed open the door and saw, to his surprise, that half the staff appeared to be present; Idalia, Thyra, Andre, Flitwick, Hagrid, Julia Richards and Caitir McGonagall.
"Whatever it is, I didn't do," Harry stated quickly, moving to the old "deny, deny, deny" method of handling trouble.
Idalia and Hagrid both snorted in amusement. While McGonagall merely shook her head. "You aren't in trouble Mr. Potter. Moody wants a full Order meeting tonight and wanted us to make sure you were there as well."
"Oh. Ok."
McGonagall nodded to her daughter, who stood up and walked to the fireplace. Grabbing a pinch of floo powder, the younger McGonagall tossed the powder into the fireplace and shouted, "Gryffindor Manor," before stepping in and disappearing.
One by one, everyone did the same and soon Harry found himself in a friendly sitting room. He followed the people that actually knew where they were going. After a few twist and turns down the richly decorated hallways, they came upon a large dining room. The place was filled with people, some of whom Harry didn't recognize. It was a little under thirty members, making Harry realize how outnumber the Order really was.
"I did a little recruiting of my own," a voice whispered into his ear.
Harry jumped in the air and turned with his wand drawn, only to see Moody grinning like a maniac behind him.
"Merlin's beard Mad-Eye! You'll beat Voldemort to the punch if you keep scaring the shit out of me like that," Harry snapped.
"Constant vigilance!" Moody all but roared into his ear.
Harry stuck a finger in his ear and twisted it. "And now I'm deaf."
"You met Julia Richards, or Professor Richards to you. She's our new Potions Mistress. Even if Snape wasn't in a coma, I wouldn't trust that man. Professor Caitir McGonagall is another new fighter, she's not as good as her mom but she's better then your average Death Eater. Then you got Lawrence O'Reilly."
Moody nodded toward an old man who looked to be as old as Moody himself was, which would put him somewhere in his early 70's. He had long, lanky gray hair and a square looking face. A scar ran across the left side of his jaw line and he had beady blue eyes. His body was average height and stocky.
"Lawrence is an Irish Hit-Wizard. When Voldemort started attacking the Irish, he and I worked a lot of cases together. Great fighter, still has a lot left in his tank. There's Francis Coates."
Moody pointed toward a tall and skinny bald man. Everything about the man screamed meek, from his pale features to his large, wide eyes hidden under bushy eyebrows. He looked like the silent type, the one who would be better of following then trying to do something on his own.
"He's a Medi-Wizard from St. Mungo's. Figured to pair him with Vance, so we wouldn't have to bother Pomfrey much. Very good at reattaching lost limbs. Unfortunately, he's only been around for a few years." Moody tapped the wooden peg that made up the lower half of his right leg. "Finally you got Montgomery Riggs."
Harry noticed the old man before Moody nodded toward him. He looked ancient, older then Dumbledore even. He was practically bald with only a few wisp of white hair sticking up from his head. He had a rather large nose, eyes that were practically white and too many wrinkles to count. Harry wondered how the man could be of any use to the Order.
"Riggs is a spy. He's too old to be a Death Eater himself, nearing almost a hundred and sixty, but he's filthy rich. He started financing the Death Eaters at my request. Already turned over several names of those working for Voldemort we didn't know."
Harry had added fourteen fighters to the Order. Moody had added two more fighters, another medic, a potions expert and a spy. Compared to what he saw Voldemort throwing into battle the other day, it didn't seem like a lot. However, when you added it to the Ministry's forces, it might be enough to actually do something. At least he hoped so. He hated when Voldemort came away with the upper hand. The Dark Lord was such an arrogant bastard when he won.
"Take your seats everyone!" Mad-Eye shouted next to Harry, causing Harry to wince and rub his ear again.
"I'm getting you a muzzle for Christmas," Harry muttered, as he moved to an open seat next to Idalia.
"Now, as for the main reason why this meeting was called for tonight, I give the floor to Riggs."
The old man struggled to his feet, shooing away the helping hand offered by Bill Weasley. "I got it, I got it," the man mumbled as he finally got to his feet. "You-Know-Who considers yesterday a major failure. Despite the casualties they inflicted, a sixth of his followers are either dead or in jail. He realizes that the United Kingdom is too prepared to handle him and his followers right now. There are still a lot of veteran Aurors and Hit-Wizards from the last war that aren't to be cowed by his tactics again. The assassinations that were so prevalent in his last rise to power are more guarded against this year. Dumbledore has high security placed on everyone of importance. So he, along with Rookwood, Dolohov and Bellatrix, Rabastan and Rodulphus Lestrange have all left the country."
Silence met his words. Harry raised his hand. "I'm sorry what?"
"You heard me you clodhopper!"
Harry leaned over to Idalia. "Did he just call me a clodhopper?"
Idalia giggled into her hand. "It seems so."
Riggs gave a mighty huff and glared at Harry. "Voldemort knows he's going to need more followers to take over the United Kingdom but he's run out of patience. He wants to go somewhere that isn't prepared for him, somewhere he doesn't have the likes of Dumbledore and Potter to foil him."
Harry nudged Idalia and pointed at himself while mouthing, 'That's me, I'm Potter!' Idalia smiled at him and rolled her eyes. Riggs, unaware of what Harry was doing, continued:
"So he took some of his best followers and he's traveling to Eastern Europe, where there is a underground faction of purebloods who support him. He's going to gather them together and start taking over Eastern Europe, who won't be prepared to handle him. Once he does that he's going to raise an army and come back here."
"Does Dumbledore know about this?" McGonagall asked.
"I've passed the information along," Moody answered.
"This is good isn't it?" Dung asked, looking around.
"Are you stupid?" Krum asked, his voice suggesting he already knew the answer. "The nations of Eastern Europe are not ready for such an uprising. They have been in peace since Grindelwald was defeated. If Voldemort was to launch a surprise attack on one of the magical governments, he would only need seventy or eighty followers to overthrow them. Probably less since there is no Dumbledore there to prevent Voldemort from slaughtering everyone himself!"
"Not to mention many countries in Eastern Europe are dominated by bigoted pureblood aristocrats, some much worse than here in Britain," Thyra added.
"Why not take everyone of his followers with him?" Andre questioned.
O'Reilly cleared his throat and looked around. "Probably left them behind to distract Dumbledore. If Dumbledore has to worry about his own country still, he won't go rushing off to help someone else. Plus from the way Riggs said it, seems like he'll get the support he needs in those other countries, no need to bring his own."
"Right," Harry trailed off for a second. "So lets go kick the shit out of the Death Eaters he left behind, yeah?"
Moody laughed for a few seconds. "While I admire you're attitude Potter, it isn't that simple. Their old headquarters was abandoned after the failed attempt at kidnapping you in May. We don't know where they are."
"True but we know who they are. We have names. Plus, before the attack on the Hogwarts Express, I saw a lot of students who don't usually sit at the back of the train, sitting in the last three train cars. Students like Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Barry Chalke and Theodore Nott."
The Headmistress gave Harry a reluctant look. "You are saying that almost 90 students knew of the attack on the train. You are implying that they are Death Eaters."
"Maybe not Death Eaters themselves but they know someone who is. If I give you the memory you can get all the names and start looking at family members for them. Help us find out who are Death Eaters and who aren't."
Moody tapped his chin thoughtfully for a few seconds. "Give me that memory Potter and I'll look into it."
Harry nodded his head.
"Does anyone have anything else to report?"
No one made any indication that they did. Harry wondered what this would mean going forward. No Voldemort in the United Kingdom might be a good thing but it obviously did not signal a pleasant future for the rest of Europe. He wondered if there was foreign wizards and witches as powerful as Dumbledore out there. Surely, the United Kingdom didn't corner the market on magically powerful people.
"Right, then this meeting is over. Be ready though people. Potter is right, with Voldemort and some of his best fighters gone, this would be a prime time for us to attack."
