Vengeance Will Be Mine
Chapter 11

Disclaimer: This work of fan-fiction is not intended for personal profit. All characters utilized herein which are not creations of myself belong to J. K. Rowling.

- - -

The foursome materialised, quite by chance, inside a convenient grove of trees that hid them from view of the lake to the north. Harry, thankful that this Portkey ride hadn't deposited him flat on his arse, looked around. There was no-one in the immediate vicinity. As he looked between a gap in the trees, he saw that the beach, or what passed for it, at the edge of the lake was mostly rocky with a smooth gray clay-like material occasionally peeking out from in between the rocks. Harry imagined that at a proper beach the clay would have given way to sand.

He surveyed the others. Croaker stood, imperturbably surveying the surroundings. Rom and Hermione seemed to be getting their bearings. The girl took a breath, then swiftly extracted the map book and compared it with where she currently was. Ron looked up, and Harry's gaze followed. He noticed the trees were about thirty feet tall and had wide, solid trunks. The area felt as though it had a permanency to it, that these trees and that lake and its rocky beach had been present, and would be present, for hundreds of years in either temporal direction.

Harry said softly, "Let's begin making a way through that gap. I think I see a sort of pathway here; see how the dirt's trampled?"

Hermione nodded, saying, "Most likely deer or other animals have made the path. Let's go."

They walked out from the grove of trees onto a trodden pathway parallelling the rocky beach, which led into a less dense forest of trees, and Harry immediately noted that the sky was overcast. The pathway veered off after about twenty feet and seemed to go straight up the small hill that lay to the south, while to the west and east the trees again became denser and taller. Various bushes and other flora lined the pathway; one particularly ferny bush a few feet down caught his attention as they continued on, Hermione taking the front and Harry bringing up the rear behind Ron.

After what felt like about ten minutes of walking, Harry looked behind him and noticed that the lake looked quite impressive, a placidly calm body below him surrounded by lush greenery. As he turned back, his eye caught something white about a hundred feet away to his right, just a small patch of white amidst the trees. He barked, "Wait!"

The others came up to him. Croaker said, "You see something?"

Harry pointed. "Yeah. Look there; you see something white? It's like a building, or something, is behind those trees."

Croaker gestured for Harry, Ron and Hermione to gather close. He said quietly, "All right. We'll go slowly. Remember your cutting hexes, people. We'll need to cut our way through. I'll also begin checking for anything magical."

The foursome began wielding their wands like machetes as they repeatedly muttered, "Diffindo", and small tree branches as well as leaves from bushes and shrubbery began to litter a crude path to the patch of white. Before long, it was clear that the patch of white was indeed the wall of a house. While they were still some forty feet away, Croaker abruptly halted and pointed his wand in the wall's direction. Harry nervously checked to make sure no-one could see from the path, and judged that the trees and greenery offered sufficient cover from all around.

Croaker seemed satisfied and said, "It's definitely magical, all right. There's a Muggle-Repelling Charm laid around the area, and the trees on the side facing the lake were cut down and a camouflaging spell was put in place to make the trees seem as though they were still present. I think your being here, Mr Potter, cancelled some of the protections since I know for a fact that this house was not visible through the trees when we were at the lake."

Harry nodded. "Okay. I need to do one thing. Dobby!"

True to his word, the house-elf appeared next to Harry. "What can Dobby do for Harry Potter sir?"

"Dobby, I need you to check that house in front of us and tell me if there are any house-elves inside."

Dobby's ears poked up as he extended a finger. A silent exchange seemed to occur as Dobby's ears twitched slightly.

As he lowered his hand, Dobby's ears drooped. "Dobby is sorry to tell Harry Potter that there is no house-elves. Dobby thinks all the house-elves is being sold or sent somewhere else until a Potter returns."

"Well, for now, you and Winky will probably have to work on this place, then. Is there anything else I should be careful of?"

"Dobby does not believe so, Harry Potter sir. The house is only being sealed until Harry Potter touches the door."

"Thanks, Dobby. Go back to headquarters, okay?"

Dobby nodded, and disappeared with a soft pop.

Harry said, "Well, that settles it. My parents must have locked this place up years ago. Sounds like this was a vacation spot for them and with the war on... well, no vacations. Let's go 'round to the front door, if we can find it."

A gravel pathway parallelling the wall was welcome relief from the trudging through the bushes. It turned out that the pathway indeed took them to the front door, which faced out to a small rectangular lot which was overgrown with weeds. Ron noticed that there were some depressions in the lot a few feet away from the stairs going up to the oak doors, and pointed them out. He said, "Looks like your Dad, or maybe granddad, had a picnic table here. I'm guessing the lot used to be gravel or dirt and was used for social gatherings. People probably just Apparated in and then left the same way."

Harry said, "Well, when I have time I'll get this place properly cleaned up. It seems pretty nice."

Indeed, the white house was something of a bungalow, with a gabled roof and a glass cupola over the centre of the house. The house, overall, looked fairly sturdy and modest. Harry noticed the windows were all heavily draped on the inside, and as he approached the front door, he noted there was a slight layer of dust on the handle. Well, nothing but to do it, thought Harry.

He extended his hand and hesitantly placed it at the centre of the door.

His arm suddenly glowed white, and when he tried to remove his hand, he found that it was stuck. Panicked, Harry yanked harder, only to be flung backwards when the white glow suddenly ceased, releasing him unawares.

Ron was already at his side, hauling him up. "Whoa! What was that, Harry?"

Croaker said, "Seems like it was a Family Recognition Spell or the like. The house should open for him now."

Harry cautiously opened the door, and automatically felt around for a light switch on the inside wall before remembering it was likely too strongly magical a residence to allow for that. He pulled out his torch and flicked the switch, noting that the entryway was partly lit by the light being let in by the cupola. The house's interior, oddly, showed very little dust for all that the place seemed to have been abandoned for around twenty years. Perhaps the sealing spell did some basic dust repulsion or did forced air circulation?

The entryway was just a short hallway, with a closet near the front door, that opened into what appeared to be a sitting room of some kind; four comfortable Chesterfield couches were arranged symmetrically about a square wooden table, and a large fireplace was inset against the right-hand wall. The cupola was directly over the table, and Harry surmised that in times past this was the central gathering place for his Potter ancestors and their guests. Heavy drapes covered what were obviously windows that looked out onto the lake.

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, silently asking permission with their glances. Harry nodded at the drapes and his friends dashed over to see how the view looked. Meanwhile, Harry and Croaker noted drapes covering part of the southern wall which looked onto the abandoned courtyard. They pulled the drapes to, and briefly checked that the courtyard was still abandoned.

A gasp from Hermione had Harry and Croaker turning around to take in the picturesque view to the north; the hill fell away below the house, offering a brilliant view of the glistening lake and the surrounding forest. It indeed felt as though they were in a tiny piece of civilisation surrounded by infinite wilderness. Even Ron seemed appreciative of the choice of location.

Croaker spoke up, breaking the silence. Harry thought his voice seemed unnaturally loud as it echoed through the room. "You three stay here. I'm going to scout the rest of the house and check for any unusual charms, protections, the like. Just because this common area seems unaffected doesn't mean the bedrooms weren't, for obvious reasons."

Harry blushed slightly as he caught the implication, and nodded briskly to Croaker, whose footfalls died away as he disappeared down the western hallway, his wand the only source of light. Harry shut off his torch, no longer needing it now that natural sunlight shone in from the cupola and the windows on both sides. He remembered what he wanted to say without Croaker nearby, and whispered, "Ron! Hermione! Listen - last night... no, it was early this morning around one o'clock - I caught Wormtail trying to escape!"

Hermione indignantly hissed back, "And you didn't think to wake us up or tell us before now? Harry!"

"Sorry. Well, for one, we can't let Croaker know. Also, it was just... I only caught him because I couldn't sleep and decided to tour the house just in case. I caught a funny noise from the basement and went down to find him sawing through the bars. How he managed to get his hands on a saw blade for a coping saw we've got to find out. I bet he went shopping and kept it on his clothes. Don't an Animagus's clothes disappear into some kind of wizardspace when they become an animal?"

Hermione seemed unsure, but drove on. "Well, what did you do after that?"

Harry decided to leave some things out. "Stunned him, repaired the bars, took the saw blade, made sure he didn't have his wand and then tied him back up. We forgot to do that when Fred and George sent him through the Floo. Oh, and I doused the candle so there'll be no light. I've got Dobby and Winky making sure he won't leave. House-elves can be pretty fearsome, you know. Remember Lucius?"

Ron grinned. "Loved that story! Stuck-up old Malfoy got bowled over by Dobby like he was a piece of parchment. Say, you thinking of moving that rat here, for sure, then?"

Harry nodded, saying, "Yeah. Even if he escapes he doesn't know how to get into Grimmauld Place and has no idea of the area since we never took him outside. But we'd better make sure he can stay locked up here. We need to find out if my Dad gave him special permission to be here, or something, since I'll need to cancel that spell."

At that moment, Croaker returned. He said, "Well, aside from the usual privacy charms on the bedrooms there's no spells. There's three bedrooms here. One has a large bed so I assume that was the master bedroom. The others have twin bunks so this place can sleep six people, in theory. There's a couple of decent bathrooms here, too. I'll explore the east half of the house now. Oh, I found out how you should turn on the lights. There should be a rectangular metal plate somewhere you touch your wand to. Seen them used at the Department of Mysteries, actually. Makes me wonder if your Mum didn't work there once, Harry."

Intrigued, Harry said, "You're sure? The design is the same? Where's the one here? Let's look."

As it turned out the 'switch' was on the eastern wall near the inset fireplace. Harry hesitated, then touched his wand briefly to to the flat, unpolished metal rectangle about the size of a typical playing card.

Soft, diffuse white light emanated from all four walls in the room, lending a more cheery atmosphere to the place. The metal surface had changed to a glossy black. Croaker noticed this and nodded. "No doubt about it. Your Mum was an Unspeakable, or as good as, when she had you. It was actually a Muggleborn who came up with this idea back in the sixties. Seems he got tired of touching the wall to find a switch, only there wasn't one. The magical addition to this lets you control who can actually turn anything on. Try it, there, ah, Hermione."

It sounded as though Croaker were attempting to be more friendly, but Harry still caught that slight hesitation. In any case, Hermione's wand tapping against the black surface did nothing. Harry tapped it with his wand, and the light died again. Another tap, and the light came back to full strength.

Croaker was all business again. "Okay. Once more, stay here. I'll be back."

Unbidden, an image from the movie Terminator 2 ran through Harry's head, and he tried to keep himself from giggling as he noticed Hermione's lips quirk in shared remembrance. Dudley had loved it, of course, since it involved lots of explosions and guns.

Harry idly ran his hand over the nearest couch, and noted again the relative lack of dust. He saw that in the good lighting conditions, it, like the other three, was a subdued brown colour and seemed stiff to the touch. He wasn't an expert on home furnishings but the couch seemed a bit older than the kind of couch the Dursleys had. Probably it was from the 1950s or 1960s, unless his mother furnished the place herself after she married his Dad. The wooden table also seemed a bit older than modern coffee-tables, but by how much was anyone's guess.

He decided to try out the furniture, seating himself on the couch facing the lake, and to his surprise, the couch remained relatively springy and not on the verge of collapse as he would have expected. Magic never ceased to amaze Harry in some ways.

Ron and Hermione sat down on the couch nearest Harry, which was the one on the eastern side of the table. They seemed equally surprised that the house-sealing spell had been as good as it had. Uncomfortably, Harry had a mental image of the house held in an unnatural stasis, held in this time warp for hundreds of years, had he never known about this place.

Croaker's loud footsteps shook Harry from his reverie. Croaker announced, "Behind me down that hallway is a kitchen, dining room, the usual. There's no food here, naturally. I assume a house-elf could probably use all the crockery and such, if you wanted to put one of them to work here. Saw a doorway to a basement, but I did a scan and there's nothing down there that shows up as dangerous on scan. So, it would seem you three have an alternative safe-house ready for use."

Harry bounced off the couch, eager to get Croaker out from underfoot. But first, time to clean up some loose ends...

"Dobby! Winky!"

The two house-elves popped in, and Harry said, "Dobby or Winky, would one of you begin laying in food and supplies here? I assume house-elves can buy things for people without trouble?"

Winky nodded and said, "You is just needing to give Winky a draft and I is taking care of your food."

"Okay. We'll be back at Grimmauld Place in a few minutes and I'll get you sorted then, all right?"

The house-elves nodded and popped away.

"I guess it's time to go back. Um, how do we do the Portkey?"

Croaker said, "It's actually quite straightforward. I kept the canister from last time. Now, since you know the place and I don't, fix the destination firmly in mind, and decide on the countdown time. Now, you two," indicating Ron and Hermione, "make sure you have all your things."

Ron and Hermione got up off the couch and grabbed up their bags. Harry made sure he was thinking quite clearly of Grimmauld Place, in the foyer just by the entry doorway. A half-minute seemed ample time to get ready, and he said so.

Croaker replied, "Good! The spell is Portus dimidium minute. The exact details of the time delay require you to know some Latin, and I'll recommend a good manual on Portkeys when we get back. Meantime, cast the spell, and then we'll all hold on."

Harry did so, clutching the canister, which glowed a slight blue. He said, "Okay, grab on."

Just after a half-minute had passed, the foursome were whirled back to Grimmauld Place, and this time, Harry did stumble, nearly crashing into the solid door. He said sheepishly, "Sorry. My first Portkey, you know."

Croaker said, "Well, now that we're done scouting and such, you three should sit down and decide what you want to do for the next while. I had some leave time scheduled with the Unspeakables to begin with, but even so I'm eventually going to have to take my leave of you and return you to Mr Moody's tender attention and constant vigilance. I'll be in my room for the moment; I have a trunk with some books; I believe I have one on the basics of Portkey usage."

As soon as they heard the dull slam of the door, Harry said, "Muffliato."

He continued, saying, "Okay. Listen - I've got to keep my Occlumency up. Can I trust you two to take care of moving Wormtail over to my Dad's place? Since Dobby and Winky have both been there I bet either one of them could just pop you over. Wish we had Veritaserum, or something like it."

Hermione said, "Why don't you want to move him yourself, Harry?"

Harry said, matter-of-factly, "Because I might be tempted to kill the bastard before we've had a chance to question him. And make sure that potion's out of him. Even if Death Eaters track him down to this area, they'll never find him thanks to the Fidelius."

Ron butted in, saying, "Never mind, mate. Consider it done. Hermione, we'd better just go do this, all right?"

Hermione seemed reluctant to abandon her analytical tendencies, but she said nothing more, for which Harry was thankful. He didn't feel like being picked at over acting on his own and feeling slightly murderous (as he thought anyone rightly should) over having to see someone who betrayed his parents more often than necessary. She simply said, "Okay, I'll look into the Veritaserum."

The pair went off, and Harry decided to go upstairs and see Croaker.

- - -

Croaker sat in the upholstered chair in his room, considering, again, the young man named Harry Potter.

While he was all but certain that Peter Pettigrew had been interned somewhere on the premises, he had decided discretion was the better part of valour and purposely chose to ignore this. Certainly the whispering he'd caught as he returned to the main room at that house in Ireland suggested the trio were busy on their own plans.

The only danger here was that young Potter, on the verge of his power boost at seventeen, might also become, as the Muggles said, a 'loose cannon'. So far, however, the boy had proven diligent about his Occlumency and seemed to be keeping himself mentally discplined.

The young man's friends could ground him, keep him focussed. They were simultaneously his weakness and strength; a paradox, to be sure, but just as no man is an island, no man is unwounded when his friends are in danger. In particular, considering Ron Weasley, Moody had made some remarks which implied he and Arthur Weasley knew each other in some kind of non-official capacity. While as yet his Legilimency probes into Harry's mind were not at full strength, he knew sooner or later he might witness something about the war effort that he would be better off not knowing for reasons of plausible deniability.

Rufus Scrimgeour could be a very annoying Minister for Magic when he got a bee in his bonnet, if his previous meetings with the man proved to be any indication.

Croaker's train of thought was abruptly broken as Harry Potter entered the room, smiling a bit uncertainly. He said, "Um, hi... I was wondering if you had that book?"

Croaker grabbed up the book he'd left on the bed, and handed it to Harry before sitting back down. "Of course! Here, it's just some quick reading, explains some of the limitations of Porkeys and so forth. Now, if you don't mind I'd like to get your Occlumency as advanced as possible. Let's have a session."

Harry nodded and seated himself in the other chair in the room. "I'm ready."

"Good! Now, I'm going to begin strengthening slightly the power behind my Legilimency. Unfortunately this will mean you may feel you are not making progress. Rest assured, you will be. It is simply that you have to get used to slowly increasing force until you can withstand even the strongest attacks. The longer you can have the session today, the better. Now, on the count of three I will cast the spell, Ready?"

The young man closed his eyes, did a quick breathing exercise from one of the Occlumency texts, and then gazed steadily at Croaker, who said, "One - two - three - Legilimens."

- - -

Harry felt a bit bruised after that afternoon of intense training. While he was assured that his mental shields were becoming stronger, it didn't really feel like much when random thoughts kept popping up after what seemed like very little time between the onset of Legilimency and the failure of his barriers.

He went to see Winky.

The house-elf was busy straightening his bed-sheets and said, "You is ought to be coming more quickly, Harry Potter sir! I is not able to get your food without taking it from Hogwarts! You is knowing this, I hopes."

What? Oh, bugger, thought Harry. They'd been nicking off Hogwarts all this time? For a frantic moment, Harry wondered if McGonagall would come down on them for it, and then calmed himself down, deciding there was nothing for it but to just not do it anymore. He found a payment draft in a drawer in his desk, and quickly signed off on it. He handed it to Winky, who was pleased and popped away after a last fluff of his pillows, presumably to shop till she dropped.

Meantime... "Dobby!"

That pop thing never got old. "You is calling Dobby, Harry Potter sir?"

"Yes. Could you please take me to my place in Ireland?"

Dubby beamed. "Of course! You grabs my hand, and we is popping there!"

House-elf Apparition was unlike anything he'd ever felt. Instead of the unpleasant squeezing of human Apparition, or the frenetic pace of a Portkey, he was simply moved to a new place. Then again, Harry reasoned, house-elves needed to be good at this or they'd be forever disorienting themselves. Still, this is brilliant! Harry exulted in the lack of any clumsiness as he noticed he was in the still-lit main room under the cupola.

Releasing Dobby's wiry hand, Harry said, "Thank you very much, Dobby. Please go back to work now."

Dobby solemnly disappeared, and Harry made his way past the well-appointed kitchen, which didn't trigger any memories (and nor did the dining room as he passed that), to find a nondescript door set into the wall which terminated at a small washroom. He opened the wooden door, and noticed that the stairway down to the basement was lit.

He called, "Ron? Hermione?"

Oddly, Ron and Hermione weren't downstairs, but instead thundered down the hallway after a minutes' waiting, and Harry noticed they looked a bit flustered. Deciding diplomacy was the better road here, he said, "Hey. Wormtail's down there?"

Ron said, "Yep. Hermione made sure he wouldn't escape no matter what. Go see, it's brilliant."

Harry descended into the basement and noticed a sturdier version of the cage for Remus had been set up, complete with washroom facilities (Harry assumed that a Vanishing bucket counted as acceptable) and a still-sleeping Wormtail was lying on the bar-covered concrete. Harry looked at Hermione, his eyebrows raised. She said, "Even if by some chance he could escape through the concrete, the bars should add some extra difficulty to that. Also, I've laid an anti-Animagus protection over the cage, as in Grimmauld. The tracing potion, whatever it was, is vanishingly weak and I doubt that anyone would be able to trace him here."

Harry decided enough was enough and pointed his wand at Pettigrew. "Ennervate!"

Wormtail's eyes flicked around, locking onto Harry as he regained his awareness of his surroundings. Harry said, "Where'd you get the saw?"

The man looked like he was about to speak, and then seemed to decide against it.

"Why were you going after Fred and George?"

Still nothing. Harry remembered his own words: "He's a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin."

And Harry well knew the extent to which Gryffindors could carry their bravery.

He pressed on, saying, "What were you planning to do? And where have you been hiding?"

Still no answer.

Harry kicked the cage in frustration, and said, "This is bollocks. This is absolute bollocks. We need Veritaserum and we need it now, damn it! That arsehole isn't talking, and I know he's got answers!"

Hermione said, a bit uncertainly, "I can inventory Grimmauld Place again, but..."

Something seemed to snap inside him when he heard what sounded like a muffled snigger from Pettigrew, and he began to see red. Harry paced back and forth swiftly as he ground out, "Fuck it. Fuck. It. All! I'm using that curse from Thistlethwaite."

Over Ron's confused yells and Hermione's sudden gasp, Harry stepped up to the cage, pointed his wand at Pettigrew and bellowed, "Vomica Cruor!"

The quite illegal curse elicited a satisfyingly loud howl from Pettigrew. Only Ron grabbing Harry by the shoulders made him stop the spell, and Harry heard, "... mate? Harry? What in all the yards of Merlin's Y-fronts was that all about, anyway!?"

Harry, breathing heavily, not sure when he'd stopped seeing red, said, "Blood-Boiling Hex. Illegal."

Placatingly, Ron said, "Bloody hell, mate. Look, come with us, all right? We'll get Veritaserum, we won't need any more curses. Right, Hermione?"

Sharply, Harry shook off Ron's hands and bit out, "Don't talk to me like that. I don't need a blasted baby-sitter!"

At that moment, Harry saw the hairs on Ron's arms begin to stand up, as though a sudden wave of static electricity went through the room. Before he could process this, he heard a swish behind him and felt a spell coming. Even as he whipped around to shield himself, he suddenly found himself collapsing to the floor amid Hermione's sad voice.

"I'm so dreadfully sorry, Harry."

- - -

As Hermione's nonverbal Stunner caused Harry to collapse to the floor, Ron saw what it had cost Hermione in that dreadful moment when he suddenly felt that blaze of power rush across him, making his hairs all stand on end. Hermione's hair was bushier than usual, partly because she was frantically running her hands through her hair, whispering, "What have I done? Ron, Harry's going to hate me for this! You know he will! But—"

Ron's placating tone (falsely, he knew to himself, as he himself was still on edge) worked more effect on Hermione as he soothingly said, "Look, you know and I know Harry was close to being dangerous to himself and us as well as the useless git over there. Oh, Stupefy."

Ron's casual spell knocked Pettigrew insensate once more. Blood still dripped from the man's nose, mute testimony to what had probably happened to his insides just a few moments ago.

"Hermione?"

Her only response was to launch herself at him and hug him for all she was worth. Ron put his arms around her still-shaking shoulders and patted her back. "Look, it's like this… Harry's magic is probably going a bit wonky, you know? From being so close to his seventeenth birthday and all. It might not even really be… a problem."

Hermione pulled back, looking at him with those sad brown eyes. She shook her head and said, "Ron, it's not that simple; we talked about this before and there's no ignoring it. Harry's got destructive impulses and he's going to be able to do serious damage if we can't get through to him." She sighed. "Let's just get Harry upstairs and I'll try and get some Veritaserum soon. Then we can safely interrogate Pettigrew."

Ron nodded and released Hermione, and the twosome carefully put Harry in his parents' old bedroom, then retired to separate beds in one of the other rooms.

Though, Ron reflected, what they'd got up to earlier portended different times ahead soon on the bed front.

Author Note:

Thanks go to misfiredcanon for the beta work here. :)