Chapter 9: Part One

August 25th

9.30pm

I stared at myself in the full-length mirror of my bathroom.

I couldn't help remembering that time twenty days ago, when I had copied this movement. Had it been only twenty days? It felt infinitely longer.

Quite a few things were different from then, however. I wasn't on the verge of death anymore. No longer would I be kept in a mad Dark Lord's playhouse, completely at his mercy. I wasn't locked in an endless spiral of depression and self-hate, unable to dredge up a pinch of hope.

Carefully I studied my face. There was the now slightly more manageable hair, tied back in a low ponytail with a brown ribbon. Some had escaped, and was hanging in front of my face. There was the scar; visible sign of my failure, made unrecognisable by my ministrations many years ago. There was my expression, grim like a soldier about to go to war. And there were my eyes, for once without a mask covering them; sharp as daggers. But as I looked closer, there was something strange there…

I blinked, and brought my face closer to its reflection. There was a shimmer of something that I hadn't seen for a long time. I gave a proper smile this time, big and broad and real.

I didn't know how it had happened, but my will to live had returned.

I took in the rest of me. I wasn't wearing Wizard robes — I'd never really liked them much. No, right now I was wearing the clothes that I felt most comfortable in, almost an exact replica of what I'd had in the war. Military clothes.

The visible parts were a big dark grey trench coat, with military boots sticking out the bottom. Underneath the coat were pants of a muddy brown colour, and a slightly lighter grey shirt, both which were made of highly flexible and maneuverable material. I didn't wear any sort of ornamentation, and I definitely didn't have any light colours in my wardrobe. Not that I didn't like those things, but some survival instincts were too deeply ingrained to forget. I also wasn't wearing black. Black was flashy and stylish. Black was what they all wore in the movies. Black was also surprisingly easy to see. You… faded into the background better with grey and brown.

My wand was resting in the wand holster attached to my left arm. There were also daggers in various places around my body, with little charms on them to draw attention away from them, and also to improve accuracy.

Okay. Physically, I was as ready as I could be to meet the people that had brought me here.

There was a knock on the outside door. Listening with my head cocked to the side, I heard a low muttering, and gave a half-grin. "Come in, Snape!" I called, and turned and walked into the living room.

Severus strode into the room, face highly agitated. He glanced at me, not seeming surprised about my choice of clothes (which wasn't really that strange — after all, he was the one that had ordered it all) then, "You're ready? Good. Let's go."

"Whoa, why the hurry?"

He growled, and grabbed me. "There's been a slight change of plan," he said, pulling me out the door. I turned and closed the door behind me, and he pulled out a very familiar silver cloak. "Put this on," he said shortly.

I took it slowly. "What happened to the obscuring spell?"

"Not enough time, and we have to save our magical energy." Snape turned and walked away, then turned back around when he realised that I wasn't following. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "Come on."

"I'm not leaving until you explain what the hell is going on."

Snape snarled. "I don't have time for your petty insecurities, Thatcher. The Vipers are attacking the Ministry and Dumbledore's decided it's time for you to prove you know what you're doing."

My eyes grew wide. "Wha— now?"

"That was obvious implication, you stupid little boy. Now put the cloak on and come!"

Some things never changed, no matter what dimension you're in. They were pushing me around again, expecting me to meekly follow their commands. Like someone with no rights. Like a pawn. Like a hero.

I could feel the anger coming up again. I tried to be a hero, and it had destroyed my world. Now I wasn't going to look out for anyone but myself.

"No," I heard myself say.

Snape stared at me in disbelief, which slowly turned to anger. "Thatcher, you know why you were brought here? To fight for us. That is all you're worth. Now do your job."

"Why the fuck should I?" I growled deeply. "This is all your problem, not mine. Why should I have to clean up the mess that you made?"

"Because I say so! And so does Dumbledore!"

If the logical part of my brain had been reigning at that moment, I would have wondered why Snape seemed so different from normal. He sounded almost hysterical, like he was only just stopping himself from screaming and throwing something. And there was a strange light in his eyes that reminded me of the Snape back in my world, when he would immerse himself in anger and biting sarcasm to hide his fear. In fact, this whole scene vividly reminded me of the time when Draco had been captured by Death Eaters…

But the logical part of my brain wasn't reigning at that moment — my emotions were. And I was utterly sick of people ordering me around. "You can't tell me what to do!" I shouted. "I wouldn't do any good anyway! I'm just one person; a wizard who isn't even powerful. The only thing I'm any good at is surviving, and making people die because of me!"

"Well, a whole lot more people will die if you don'thelp!"

I was shaking with suppressed rage at that point. "You still don't understand," I said. "I'm not a redeemer. I'm not some noble, stupid Gryffindor — not anymore. I don't give a damn about the ministry."

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE MINISTRY EITHER," Snape bellowed, "BUT LILY'S THERE, AND SHE'S GOING TO DIE IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ARSE AND SAVE HER!" He glared furiously at me. For a moment, all I could think about was that he had actually swore. Then I concentrated on what else he had said.

In the back of my mind, I had known that it was incredibly likely for my parents to be alive. No prophecy, then no reason for Voldy to kill them, right? But it seemed I had subconsciously pushed the thought away from me, and it was only now that it came back.

"Lily?" I croaked.

Snape didn't see the emotions flickering across my face, caught up in his own world as he was. "Yes, Lily!" he shouted. "Lily Evans, the only person other than Albus that I respect. My only friend, Lily!" He turned and leant his head against the wall, breathing hard.

I stared sightlessly at Severus. My mother was trapped in the Ministry? Would she become yet another person dead through my actions? Yet another sign I was special, I thought to myself bitterly. Not many sons got to kill their mothers twice. Was this to be my life: slowly destroying everyone around me until I was all alone and —

No. You will not do this. The thought came from the part of me that was the wolf, and it seemed furious with my human side. She is pack. You may do anything else, but you will look out for and defend pack. You will not sit by like an arrogant cat and stay out of battle!

Snape was looking at me now, standing and glaring in disgust. I hardly noticed, listening as I was no my inner animal.

For the first time in years I was suddenly, intensely ashamed of myself. I wondered what I would have thought at fifteen, had I been told that, ten years later, I would refuse to save my mother. Probably be convinced I was under the Polyjuice.

I felt a feeling of determination enter me, rising past the anger and shame. I didn't particularly care about the war going on, and I'd only heard one side of the story anyway; it was likely that the Vipers of this world had ample reason to bring it about. But Lily was pack, even if I didn't yet know her, and I would protect her.

I met Severus' eyes, and slowly nodded my head. "Lead on," I said quietly, and threw the cloak over my head.

000

We stood in front of the gargoyle which would lead to Dumbledore's office. "You can take the cloak off now," Snape said, anxiety evident in his voice if not his expression.

I did so, and looked at the Potions Master solemnly. "What now?"

He ground his teeth. "I would think it rather self explanatory, Thatcher. We go past the Guardian and into the Commander's office."

Even with my heart beating at an ever increasing rate and the familiar fear of battle entering my body, I was curious. "Why do you call him 'Commander'?" I asked. "He's the Headmaster of Hogwarts, isn't he? Why don't you call him that?"

"Not now, Thatcher," Severus snapped, glaring at me. "If I survive this night you may ask me again." He turned to the gargoyle, and said, "Severus Snape, head of Slytherin and one Tenth of the Decagon, and Tobias Thatcher."

For a second I wondered if it was going to accept that name from me; it wasn't the name I had been given at birth, after all. But the gargoyle's eyes glowed yellow, and slowly it swung to the side. Mentally I shrugged — it was very likely that my subconscious thought that "Tobias Thatcher" was more real a name than "Harry Potter", for all it was made up.

Snape walked up the stairs and I followed, hands in my coat pockets to make their shaking unnoticeable.

You can do this, my wolf side told me encouragingly. Don't hesitate. Don't think about the future — it is a stupid thing to worry over something that hasn't happened yet. And straighten your back. Look intimidating. He sniffed. Even we can understand the value of seeming strong.

I didn't fully understand the wolf side of myself. He was definitely a part of me, with all my memories, emotions and quirks. I knew he was a part of my soul, but I think that I was also a part of his. It was… complicated. He talked of me in third person, instead of first. And he seemed to be in the back of my mind, so that I sometimes took for granted that he was there. But when I transformed it was he who was in control, and me who took the backseat in his mind.

I asked Bill about it once, when we were on a mission together. He hadn't given a direct answer, but instead said, "I'd always thought that there was someone else in me, pushing subconscious bits of information to the forefront and reprimanding me when I'd done something wrong. I used to think it was my conscience, but surely a conscience wouldn't swear that much." He'd given a sad smile. "Maybe when you become an animagus, the voice becomes clearer. Maybe if it had become clearer to me, I would have listened to it more. Maybe, it I had listened to it more, I'd still have my..."

We reached Albus' room, and I stopped for a moment, trying to gain confidence. Then I strode inside.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, brow creased and looking over papers. When we came in, he looked up. "Ah, Severus and Mr. Thatcher. I trust you are both well? Good. Follow me." He stood, and lead us to an inner door.

I had only seen this room once in my world, the night... the night all hope was lost. It was a room to use only when no others were available, Albus had told me. It may have been completely safe from outsiders, but there was so much magic flowing through it that it had grown unstable.

There were only five people inside: Sirius, Minerva, Flitwick, Sprout and Moody. I did the math, and found that, for a Decagon, they were a bit lacking. With Dumbledore and Snape there were only seven. Who were the others? Remus was probably one (it was very unlikely that Sirius would keep a secret from his lover), but where was he? And I had a suspicion that Lily was another. But then, who was the last? Another teacher, perhaps? Maybe it was even my fath... no, I wouldn't go there.

As soon as I entered, all noise stopped and all eyes rested on me. I felt their assessing gazes, and raised an eyebrow. "Why, I was under the impression that we were about to engage in a rescue mission, not a Lets-Make-Sure-The-Savior-Can-Bring-About-The-Prophecy party. I understand this is the first time I've met a lot of you, but can we cut the introductions and get to the action?"

There was silence for a moment, then Moody said, "See here, Thatcher. You may be the Redee–"

"Alastor, we can discuss this later," Minerva said sharply. "I think we have more pressing issues on our hands than impudence."

"Yeah," growled Sirius. "Like getting my three best friends back." I glanced at him, and suddenly realised why Remus wasn't there. I went completely cold.

No, I thought. Not you too. I don't want to lose you again...

And you won't. You'll get the pack leader out, as well as our mother.

"We need to discuss a plan of action," Dumbledore said. "There have already been forty aurors dispatched, as well as ten aurors in training, five squads of plain soldiers and the people stuck in the ministry themselves. The Vipers Poison has about fifty trained Dark Wizards in the ministry building at this moment." His voice turned contemplating. "I wonder what they think they'll gain by infiltrating the place. It isn't like they would succeed, and even if they did we would easily take it back from them..."

My mind tuned out the talking and fell into a habit that had been vital all through the war – second guessing the enemy.

They were obviously smart, so there were really only two reasons that they would initiate an attack like that: as a diversion, or because there was something in the ministry that they desperately wanted or needed. I didn't know them well enough to figure out which option was right, but if they had more in common with my resistance than just its name, it would probably be the latter. After all, if there was nothing of value in the place it would have been blown up by now.

"... and I'd suggest that we go out in full regalia, so as to intimidate them and –"

"Excuse me?" I looked at Dumbledore disbelievingly. "Are all of you actually going to go out and fight?"

He nodded. "That is the plan, yes."

"And you're not even going to try and hide from them?"

Sirius glared at me. "Why would we want to?" he asked. "Personally, I want to kill as many of those bitches as possible."

I shook my head. "No. Charging in is the worst possible thing you could do."

Angered talking broke out, getting louder and louder as everyone tried to speak to me. I rolled my eyes and waited for Dumbledore to call them to attention.

"That is enough." He looked at me. "Why don't you explain your thinking, Mr. Thatcher?"

My real answer would have been something along the lines of, "Well, I don't really care one way or another who wins the war, and I'm not even certain that I'm on the right side at the moment, what with the name 'Viper's Poison' being so familiar. There was a reason we made that name, after all, and I don't think the reasoning would have changed much. All I want to do is get Lily and Remus out, because I don't know what I'd do if I lost them twice. I don't want any fuss or heroism."

Obviously I couldn't say that, however. So instead, I thought of a connected reason. "You've already mentioned that there is no way they could beat us," I said, looking at Albus. "Why would you want to go into a battle that is already won, where you may be hurt of even killed?"

"To get Lily," Snape ground out, at exactly the same time that Sirius cried "To get back my friends!", Sprout said, "To help all those people!", Flitwick squeaked, "To discover what makes the Vipers tick,", Minerva said, "To save as many as I can,", and Moody growled, "To send those fuckers back down to hell where they belong."

I nodded calmly. "So you see, all of you, with the exception of the trigger-happy psycho – pardon, I mean Alastor Moody – don't wish to fight. Most of you want to save and rescue people. Now, what do you think will happen if you rush in screaming with battle rage, huh?"

The light dawned on Severus, and Albus' eyes widened momentarily. But no one else seemed to know what I was talking about, so I continued. "The Vipers will panic. They might make hostages out of the people we want to save, and say that if we go against them, they'll die. Also, you may very well give away yourselves as the biggest members of the opposition, what with all that running and screaming in bright costumes."

"Well, Merlin, what would yousuggest?" Moody said sarcastically. "I would hear your infinite wisdom." Hmm, it seemed I had made an enemy. Not that I particularly cared. Moody had an odd sort of honor, and wasn't going to stab me in the back.

"You shouldn't be going in at all," I said bluntly. "You're going to place yourselves in needless danger. But since I know none of you are going to accept that answer, you should at least keep a low profile. Stay in the shadows, and do not deliberately show yourselves." I gave a small smile. "Call it a stealth mission. No attacking, and only defend when there is no other option."

Everyone looked at Albus, who was staring at me with a contemplating expression on his face. "You've done this sort of thing before, haven't you." he said.

I nodded. "You people may have fought in wars before, but you've never been on the losing side. I have. You pick up certain... instincts."

Huh, more like paranoias.

Shut it, you.

I was already falling into patterns of movement and thought that I had developed in the resistance. They weren't anything flashy, but they had kept me alive. Silent footsteps, using all my senses to survey the area, crossing my arms so that I could secretly hold the weapons in my wrist-guards...

I wasn't sure yet if it was a good or bad thing. Most likely, it was both.

Dumbledore gave me a searching glance, and I once again felt Legilimency prodding at me. I felt an overwhelming urge to make my barriers visible and show him how much defence I really had, but quashed the thought. Rule one: don't give away any more information about yourself than necessary.

Instead I just blocked him from entering.

Slowly, he nodded. "Very well. Let's see what you're capable of." He looked at the Decagon. "Mr. Thatcher will be taking charge tonight. You will take orders from him as you would from me. Any questions? Good. Tobias?"

"Thank you, Albus," I replied with a smile. We were equals now, it seemed. Then my glance turned serious. "Of course, you know you can't come, don't you?"

"Wait a minute," Moody interjected. "Why the hell not? The Commander has more rights than any of us to be there, and he would be very helpful if we come up against any magical trouble."

I rolled my eyes again. "Mr. Moody, there are two simple, yet extremely important reasons. The first – and most important – is that someone powerful has to stay to guard Hogwarts. Who's to say that the attack on the ministry might just be a diversion to get Albus out of the school, so they can lay siege to it?" I shivered, barely perceptibly. "The second is that, quite simply, his magical level is too high. If there's someone from the Viper's with a power scanner, they'll lock on to the source of the power in seconds, making our cover blown."

Dumbledore coughed meaningfully before Moody could answer me. "They are all good points you bring up, Tobias. In any case, I was planning to stay here anyway."

"Okay." I took a step back so I could survey everyone properly, and mentally went through the attributes that each of them had. "First question: do you have an animagus form? And if so then what is it, what's its colour, and is it registered or unregistered?" I looked at Severus. "Professor Snape?"

"I do. A black fox. Unregistered."

Well, that hadn't changed. "Professor McGonagall?"

"A tabby cat. Registered."

I looked at Flitwick and Sprout, who shook their heads. Moody growled, which I took as a negative.

"Mr. Black?"

"That's 'Professor'", he corrected me. "Yes, I have an animagus. My form is a big black dog, unregistered. Now can we go already?"

"Soon." I closed my eyes and tried to visualize the ministry building, or as much as it as I had gone in. But I hadn't seen it for years, so I really couldn't get more than a few sketchy pictures of corridors, the room in which I had talked to the Wizengamot, and a big veil...

"I really would like to get going," Flitwick said eventually. My eyes snapped open, and as if released from a spell, I went to action.

"There shall be two teams," I said, walking forward. "Me, Professor Snape and Professor Black, and Professor McGonagall, Mr. Moody, Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick." I pivoted, and looked at Severus. "Where do you think the two people we want to get will probably be?"

"Most likely with the Minister, in his chambers," the Potions master answered distastefully.

I nodded. "Perfect. Then group one's objective will be to get back the two Decagon members, and make sure the Minister is safe and unharmed. Group two will act more like scouts, checking out the surrounding areas and trying to find out what the Vipers want to accomplish. You may give aid to the people in the Ministry, and I know that Mr. Moody won't be able to restrain himself from bashing in a few Viper heads, but please try to make yourselves as inconspicuous as possible."

As I had expected, they all looked at Albus. I was slowly starting to understand why he had the title "Commander". He looked at me, eyes twinkling. I felt a pang of nostalgia, but shoved it away. This wasn't the time.

"...Well?" I asked eventually, impatiently. "Do I have your permission?"

"Of course, my boy." Oh, so I was "my boy" now, was I? That was fast. Soon he'd probably be calling me "child". "Take this portkey – it will bring you to an alcove in one of the departments on the third floor. I doubt anyone will be there, but just incase there are I have put a concealment charm on the pendant. As long as you hold it, no one will notice you." He offered me the portkey, which was just a string necklace with a wood medallion attached. "Put it around your neck after you've reached the ministry, and when you want to return, say 'portus'."

"How am I going to contact the other group?"

"Every Decagon member has a mirror which they can talk to each other in. You can communicate through that." He looked at me solemnly over his half-moon spectacles. " I wish you the best of luck."

I walked forward and took the portkey, leaning forward so there was no more than a hands width between us. "So," I murmured, "did I past the first test?" Not waiting for an answer, I turned back around and gestured at everyone. "Well? What are you waiting for – grab hold."

I'd never liked portkeys much; they had bad memories associated with them. But I had to admit that, if you couldn't apparate, portkeys were pretty damn useful. A whole lot better than floo, at any rate. Heh, if we'd taken the floo over to the ministry, chances were that we'd have had a nice little welcoming party there to greet us.

When we were all touching the medallion, I looked up at Albus and gave a mock salute. Then I whispered, "Portus," and clenched my teeth tightly as we traversed over hundreds of miles in a second.

I felt like throwing up.