The Hogwarts staff looked on in some surprise when the Trio introduced the four men that came in the Muggle contraption as their 'teachers' but decided for expediencies' sake not to argue.
"So…how's the war effort?" Hannibal grinned, "any good plans yet?"
"Look, Mr…erm…"
"Smith, John Smith. But you can call me Colonel or Hannibal," the blue eyes twinkled merrily, offsetting everyone in the room.
"We've studied under these people for a great number of years," Ron said, "they have our complete confidence."
"Truly?" The Potions Master's dark eyes took in the strange appearance and American accents.
"Yeah, really," BA approached, "You must be that Snape guy. Them kids told us 'bout you. Been waiting to meet you."
For the first time ever, the room saw the Potions Master actually gulp.
"I…erm…" His eyes widened as he saw a large black fist approach.
BA held out his hand. "Told me you were a mean son of…but that you were the only one trying to keep 'em safe. Can't be an easy job, what with the things this lot gets into."
The Trio didn't even bother to look mildly offended, though some jaws did drop when the Potions Master accepted the Hagrid-sized hand. "Yes, well, the war is hopefully almost over," he said, having regained his bearings – somewhat.
"So, what's the plan?" Hannibal nearly bounced in excitement.
"Well…we don't have 'a' plan as such…"
"Nothing? Nada? Harry, they're as bad as you told me!" Hannibal took out his cigar.
"Oh dear, you've done it now," Face moaned in fake upset, "He's on the Jazz!"
"The..Jazz?" Professor McGonagall inquired.
"Yeah, the Jazz," Harry replied, "Kind of like the Headmaster when he overdoses on lemon drops. Only saner and actually productive."
He frowned.
"Alright, not so much saner as insane in a less infuriating way."
"I am right here, you know," the Headmaster pointed out.
"So you are," Harry observed calmly.
"Now kids, no fighting," Hannibal's eyes twinkled brightly, "we have planning to do!"
ssssssssss
"Here, Murdock. There's someone here we've been dying to introduce to you," Ron pulled the pilot along.
"Hello," Murdock heard behind him, and turned around to see a blue-eyed girl in school robes, "My, what a pretty miniature giant space mouse!"
"Murdock, meet Luna. Luna, this is Murdock," Ron grinned widely.
"Hi," Murdock said, "would you like to hold Moo?"
Ron left them alone, both of them petting the tiny creature no one but the two of them could see.
ssssssssss
"A plane?" Minerva asked sceptically, "what is a 'plane'?"
Hannibal looked confused and looked over to the Trio for help.
"Pureblood," Harry shrugged.
Snape turned to his colleague. "An airplane is a Muggle contraption, not unlike that van of theirs, with steel wings and a large engine that enables it to fly."
Arthur Weasley bounced in excitement. "Really? You are going to bring one? Can I see? Can I fly in it? Can OUCH, Molly!"
"And how do you know this, Severus?" Minerva asked.
"Half-blood," Snape shrugged, "raised in a Muggle neighbourhood."
Most of the room stared at him in shock, until Face cleared his throat. "Ahem, not to be rude or anything, but we really have things to plan."
"Very well," Minerva turned back, "how do we use this 'plane'?"
"The Death Eaters will most likely be on broomsticks," Harry pointed out.
Murdock grinned happily. "Imagine a plane flying right through their formation – they'll drop like flies."
Many faces paled. "Muggles can do that? Without getting hurt?"
"They'd be sitting inside a steel construction, whereas we fly unprotected on brooms," Harry pointed out, "the statute of secrecy protects us more than it protects them. We would not stand a chance against Muggles. That is why it is so important we keep Voldemort from attacking them – if they retaliate, we're history."
"And, of course, it is the right thing to do," Hannibal nodded, "we don't like being murdered any more than you do."
"You don't say," Snape muttered as he bent over the maps, "well, the Dark Lord is likely to fall into a trap if Potter is truly as accomplished a Legilimens now as he claims…" he continued out loud.
Harry smiled. "Would you like a demonstration?"
Snape scowled. "If you think you can break into my mind – even the Headmaster can't."
Harry focussed in response, stroking ghostly mental fingers over the smooth surface that protected the Potions Master's mind. He had a very gentle touch – in the East the art of Occlumency and Legilimency was much more refined than the crude Western counterparts. Suddenly Snape realized that the fingers no longer ran over the outside of his shields, but had melted into them, only to emerge on the inside.
Harry caught a few glimpses – the same small boy backed up against a wall while someone who had to be Snape's father yelled – before he retreated. He had not come to spy after all, merely to make a point. The only thing he did retrieve from Snape's mind was the knowledge that yes, the man was truly on their side. His previous actions had already confirmed it, but it was good to know for sure.
He looked upon the man with sympathy. Snape prepared to lash out until he realized Harry was not giving him any looks of pity. Merely understanding and the unspoken promise that what he saw would be between the two of them.
He cleared his throat. "Yes, well…that was adequate, Potter."
Harry smiled in acknowledgment before turning to the Headmaster. "The Horcrux is gone, but a link to Voldemort remains – due to his entering my mind before and the blood we share. It is closed now, but I can reopen it and send him a challenge straight into his mind."
Snape nodded. "I do not believe he would let an insult like that slide. He would wish to retaliate in any way possible."
"If only you had finished him off when he was still hiding in Albania," Moody grumbled.
"And what good would that have done?" Hermione asked, "that would have meant we never would perform the time ritual. We would not have sent ourselves back to destroy Voldemort. Time loop again. It was…difficult," she admitted.
"Especially the days when Cedric and Sirius died," Harry added, his voice hoarse, "don't think it wasn't. Don't think we weren't tempted. We simply could not act, and if we had done something irrational by letting our feelings overcome our better judgment, we might have damned our entire world instead of saving it as we had set out to do."
"Alright," Hannibal called again, "guys – the PLAN?"
sssssssssssss
Wormtail was looking at his boss. Sure, being a Death Eater had its drawbacks. Getting Crucio'ed was likely against the Geneva convention. Then again, bossing around people simply on account of wearing a mask and robes was kinda fun.
"Wormtail," Voldemort said and then suddenly went very, very cross-eyed.
Wormtail, who thought Voldemort was having a little fun pulling faces, laughed merrily. "Good one, my Lord," it truly had been. Of course, Voldemort's face already looked like he was pulling a face all the time, but the cross-eyed really added to it.
"POTTER!" the abomination hissed, "what happened to you? Who taught you to do this?"
Wormtail gulped as he realized this wasn't a game, and he had laughed and clapped over something that was making his master VERY angry. Oh dear. Perhaps it was time to write to this Geneva convention…
"OUT! OUT! I will get you Potter! You and your little friends! You stand no chance against me!"
Voldemorts eyes came into focus again. So angry he forgot to even curse the rat for making fun of him, he ordered, "WORMTAIL! Gather all my forces! Potter plans to take control of Merlin's Cave, we are going to Cornwall to head him off before he reaches it and uncovers whatever old tomes are buried there!"
ssssssss
"Done?" Face asked in concern.
"Yep," Harry stood up, a little pale but smirking, "Cornwall it is. Nice and remote, instead of near a school full of children or Diagon Alley in the middle of bloody London like the Headmaster suggested."
"BA is already welding and I have scamming to do. Are you coming?"
Harry laughed. "No, but take Snape along. That could be very interesting."
