Chapter 11: Spy Games

Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the floo in No 12 Grimmauld Place and nodded at Remus and young Nymphadora. He acted as if he had not seen just how close the two had been standing together when he had arrived, and hid his smile at the way both were acting as if they had been standing guard there until he had passed them. Young love - always a heartwarming sight, doubly so during dark times such as those Wizard Britain currently found itself in.

On the way to the salon where the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix would be held he looked into the library. As expected Miss Granger was there, studying ancient tomes. She glanced up briefly when the door opened, noded at him and went straight back to reading and making notes. Harry's friend had been taking the revelation about the nature of his scar not well and was determined to find a solution. Albus had allowed her to leave Hogwarts in the evenings and travel by floo to Sirius's home so she could research in the Black Family Library. It had been an easy decision - if he hadn't, the young witch would have gone anyway, and the still fragile trust Albus had managed to regain would have been destroyed. That was enough of a reason to allow this, and to cover her absence up as "special lessons" by himself. The Headmaster didn't think Miss Granger would succeed in her task, but one could always hope.

His mood more somber, he continued through the corridor, past old paintings whose inhabitants tracked him with wary expressions, to the salon. Most of the members of the Order would be already there, availing themselves of the wonders of Molly's cooking.

"The aurors have had all leave canceled. We're doing double shifts at times, going after anything or anyone that might lead us to the escaped prisoners." Young Nymphadora pouted, obviously not impressed with what she was reporting, even though it might appear to be a good thing to those not familiar with the state of the country. Albus knew that for all the effort the Ministry was making, it was still misguided and foolish, dancing to the tune of Lucius Malfoy's gold.

After a glance to Remus that was not quite as subtle as she might have thought, the young metamorphmagus continued. "The main suspects are still Remus and Sirius. There are still kiss on sight orders for both of them."

"I thought the Dementors had rebelled?" William Weasley cut in.

"They have. We're also supposed to track them down and return them to Azkaban. The Minister apparently believes that their absence is just a temporary thing, and that they might be hunting the escaped prisoners." Nymphadora's expression left no doubt about her opinion on that.

"Everytime I think I have the measure of Fudge, he proves me wrong by doing something even more stupid than before." Sirius shook his head.

"Aye. That fool is setting new records even for ministers. He's a hand puppet for Malfoy, nothing more. A few of my old friends still in the Ministry can rant for hours about him, and yet they still do his bidding," Alastor added, before taking a sip from his ever-present flask. Albus didn't think it was healthy, drinking so much, but his old friend didn't expect to survive this war. Having been taken prisoner by Barty Crouch Jr. had had an effect on the previously unshakable retired auror.

"We should take dear Lucius out." Sirius bared his teeth in a caricature of a smile, full of loathing. Neither he nor Remus were taking their enforced inactivity well, Albus knew that. And yet there was no choice - it was too dangerous for either to leave the house, unless there was an emergency. Hopefully training Harry would be enough to keep them from doing anything rash.

"Who's this 'we' you speak of, Black?" Severus sneered at his old rival. Or nemesis. "I don't see you doing anything."

"This is not the time for childish spats." Albus glared at both his potion master and their host before either could escalate the matter. When both had stood down, he nodded and addressed the rest of the Order: "I have good news. I have made contact with a small group of wizards who believe in Voldemort's return, and they are willing to fight him."

"New members, Headmaster?" Arthur, finally healthy again, smiled.

"I would say allies. They are not ready to join the Order." Not that he had asked them, of course. "They are mostly muggleborn wizards, and they seem to have been a bit disillusioned by Wizarding Britain's society." Which was putting it mildly. Albus had known that prejudices against muggleborns had not gone away since Voldemort's first defeat, but he had not been aware just how bad things were. He doubted any pureblood had realized what the life of a muggleborn was like in Wizarding Britain, but that did not excuse his own ignorance. He should have known, should have done something.

"Are they any good with their wands?" Alastor sounded doubtful. He knew different, of course, since Albus had informed him of his alliance with the Council. But such a question would have been expected of him by the others.

"They are quite experienced. Lacking employment opportunities in Britain despite their grades, they took to working abroad, often in quite dangerous positions." Albus saw William nod. The young curse-breaker knew from experience what Albus implied. Mercenaries. Albus wasn't happy to fool his friends like this, but Mister Travers had been quite clear about who he'd accept being trusted with information about the Council.

"If they're old enough they're good enough then. Certainly better than most of the pampered purebloods in Britain." Alastor made no secret about who he included in that, and many of the members present bristled at the insinuation. The old auror just scoffed. "We'll still need to get used to work together."

"There will be opportunities to fight side by side, and take each other's measure, Alastor," Albus stated with a smile. He already knew of one of such, but spreading that information in this meeting would endanger its source. He trusted his friends, but there were ways to make anyone talk. "Miss Granger has provided us with enchanted galleons which will allow us to alert each other if there's an emergency." Quite the ingenious variant of the protean charm - N.E.W.T. level magic, in her 5th year. The Headmaster was looking forward to what Miss Granger would achieve once she finished Hogwarts.

"That will cut down on our response time a lot." William smiled.

"Aye. We might even arrive at a raid before the Death Eaters have left already." Alastor sounded gruff, but he had been quite happy about the galleons when he had heard of them.

"Miss Granger? It's time to return to Hogwarts."

Hermione looked up with an annoyed expression at the interruption. When she saw it was the Headmaster, she swallowed what she had been about to say, and blinked. "Is the meeting of the Order already over?"

"It's past eleven, Miss Granger. I dare say your friends are waiting for your safe return."

"Oh." She was tempted to stay a bit longer, but didn't want to push the Headmaster, after he had shown to be so helpful. And Harry would be worried if she stayed too long. He was training with Ron in the Room of Requirement. She gathered her notes and stashed them in her bag. The young witch still had nothing concrete, but she had found a report of a soul restoration ritual done in the Vatican after a particularly nasty demon attack on a Cardinal in the 1550s. No details about it, alas, but she was sure the Watchers Library should have more information, given how often they used blessed weapons and holy water. But with the traveling time that visiting Uncle Quentin entailed, she wouldn't be able to research that until the weekend.

Sighing, she joined the old wizard at the door. He didn't ask if she had found anything - her mood must have been obvious. But she was not giving up, not now, not ever. Harry needed her, and she'd do her utmost to save him. No matter what it cost her.

"A squib with a crossbow! What are those people thinking!" A wizard - Diggle something - whispered, unaware that India Cohen could hear him perfectly.

"Maybe she's Hagrid's daughter. He's got a crossbow too," one of the younger redheads whispered back. The smaller stockier one. Charlie, supposedly working with dragons. India would love to slay a dragon, not many Slayers had managed that, but apparently they were all in preserves now, and that would not be a real hunt, or a fight to remember. India didn't know who Hagrid was, but she was not his daughter.

"He's got a much bigger one though. That one doesn't look like much." That was the taller redhead. Handsome, if one liked the bad boys with long hair. India didn't. India liked men, not boys. One man in particular.

It got a bit hard to ignore the comments and looks. She had to restrain herself from reacting, and from bashing in the face of one of the members of the Order of the Phoenix. Maybe once a number of them had felt her wrath they'd stop arguing about her place in this ambush just because she had no wand but a crossbow. But she had strict orders not to reveal that she was the Slayer, nor to harm their so-called allies. Orders from Mister Travers and from Kit. Who was not present again, despite the importance of this mission - their first joint mission with those wizards! India was starting to fear someone was trying to replace her Watcher. Someone like Fitzburg. She glared at the young wizard when he had his back turned to her. Kit was her Watcher, and she'd not accept anyone else!

To make a point she pulled out her crossbow and checked it, cocking it and loading it with a wooden bolt with cold iron and silver inlays - the "demon special" as the Watchers called it. Kit called it "bolt of demon slaying", apparently a joke from some game. She smiled, remembering that scene. That had been before she had been chosen.

"Cut the chatter, you fools. If you had any experience worth a damn, you'd know that one's not a stranger to killing." The harsh words from the scarred wizard with the weird eye - Mad-Eye - shut the others up, hopefully until the Death Eaters finally arrived.

The Order members, the Slayer and four of the rare Watchers wizards were waiting in an unoccupied apartment near the house of the Tonks, the family of that metamorphmagus auror. India thought she was a shape changing demon, she felt far more different than a witch, but the Watchers had assured her she was a witch, not a demon. India still trusted her gut more. But orders were orders, and her orders were to ambush the Death Eaters who'd attack the house tonight, according to their information. Apparently a crazy witch named Bellatrix Lestrange wanted to kill the whole family. India was looking forward to slaying her.

She twirled a few bolts around in her hand before stashing them in a fluid motion in the loops sewn into the insides of her leather jacket. Then she noticed that the two redheads were staring at her, again - but differently this time. Less patronizingly. Had that minor display of her skill with all weapons given her away? Or… she pulled one jeans-clad leg up on the bench she was sitting on and shifted her position a bit, letting her jacket fall open and expose her top. Yes. They were staring at her chest and legs. Didn't witches have boobs too? It wasn't as if she was that stacked. Her legs were very fine though. It still was no reason for them to stare like that. She glared at them and patted her crossbow, then stared at the crotch of the dragon handler. That made the two look away and Mad-Eye chuckle. Good. Maybe they could be taught.

A few minutes passed in silence without anyone talking about sports or something stupid. Then The Order wizards started to talk about Quidditch - again.

"Get up you lot! Someone just threw up anti-apparition and floo jinxes on the Tonks!" Mad-Eye suddenly called out, and India was at the window before he had finished speaking, crossbow ready. Someone shouted "Wait!" but she did not listen. She had to get into a good position to cover the house, and she was not about to let slow wizards delay her - she might miss out on the fight!

Dropping down one floor to the ground, she landed in a crouch, eyes searching for targets. The dim light of the night didn't impede her eyes at all. About 100 meters away she saw a dozen figures moving towards the Tonks' house. All but one wore black robes and silver skull masks - Death Eaters. That one was a witch wearing a corset with a ripped dress. Lestrange. They would have to take down the wards before they could attack the family, so India had some time to get up that roof she had spotted when she had arrived, that would allow her a good field of fire. She was halfway there, sprinting, when the first wizard on her side reached the street, disillusioning himself.

A leap brought her on top of the mailbox, another to the roof on the garage there. She was on her belly, aiming, when the rest of the wizards arrived and started towards the Death Eaters. The Slayer wanted to send a bolt into the witch's head, but again, her orders prevented her from acting on her urge - she was to take out as many of the masked Death Eaters as possible. Lestrange was to be taken alive by the wizards since she'd know where the Dark Lord was hiding, and what his plans were.

With a dull thud the first bolt hit a masked Death Eater's head, almost going all the way through. The dark wizard's body, caught in the middle of running, spun around itself while dropping to the ground. India had already reloaded. Another bolt took out the one that knelt down to see what had happened to his comrade. It was only then that the scum realized they were under attack. Amateurs, India thought with a sneer while she took aim at another who was turning around himself, wand in front of him looking for her. This time she nailed his neck. He collapsed with while his shredded throat spewed blood all over his robes.

Then the disillusioned Watchers and Order members entered the fight, spells flying as they became visible. Lestrange was untouched, a blue shimmering shield blocking all spells sent towards her. Three Death Eaters went down though, the rest managed to dodge or shield, or were not targeted at all.

Six left including Bellatrix Lestrange, who was cackling madly. India spotted one robed dark wizard whose shield had gone down due to a spell from someone and pulled the trigger of her crossbow. He fell, clutching the end of the bolt that had pierced his heart. Five left. One Death Eater was running towards her. He was looking over his shoulder though, at the fight behind him, so he must not have seen her yet, and he had no shield up. India's next bolt made sure he'd never see her. Four left.

The witch was a whirlwind of mad laughter and wildly flying spells. She was dueling two Watchers and Mad-Eye, and was still able to cast spells at the others in support of her rapidly dwindling followers. A green spell hit Diggle - the killing curse. Another blew up a big part of the street, sending chunks of asphalt flying as high as India's perch. She saw one Watcher and two Order wizards down, though at least two of them were still moving. India clenched her teeth - she wanted nothing more than to charge that witch and fight it out.

Instead she shot one Death Eater in the back before he could finish off the dragon handler caught in the explosion. Her bolt went through his weak shield and severed his spine close to the neck, leaving him screaming on the ground, limbs twitching uselessly while he slowly bled out. Another went down to spells from the tall redhead and two women who had stormed out of the house, and a Watcher killed the last one by blowing up his head.

That left the crazy witch still dancing over the battlefield, cackling and casting rapidly. India was tempted to see how long it would take for the Watchers to call her in. But she was the Slayer, not a petulant child. Another explosion sent two more wizards to the ground, one of them a watcher. India had enough and fired at Lestrange. Her bolt bounced of the blue shimmering shield around the witch. Time to end this.

India rose, moved two steps back while cocking and loading her crossbow again, and then took a running jump off the garage's roof. "LESTRANGE!" she screamed while she was falling, and when the witch turned towards her, she fired another bolt at her. It was stopped by the shield again, but it had made the woman flinch. India reached the ground and rolled, dropping her crossbow and drawing her blessed dagger from the sheath on her back. She came up in a crouch, and then had to jump forward to dodge a spell sent her way. The street behind her blew up, more chunks hitting her back, but she didn't care. Her foe was in front of her, and her blood was hot. That dark witch would die!

She charged at her, but another spell forced her to jump to the side, into the crater an earlier explosion had left. She scrambled up and out of it just in time to see Black turn towards the house and cast. The whole house shook from the impact of the spell and the Tonks family was thrown to the ground, but nothing else happened. Wards, India thought, while sprinting towards the dark witch again. She was close enough to spot the white in the crazy eyes of the witch as Her enemy spun around, wand pointed at her and tip glowing with another spell. India wouldn't be able to dodge, but if she was fast enough, she'd be at her before…

Before Lestrange could cast she was sent reeling by a barrage of spells that caught her in the side, finally bringing down her shield. Grinning, India took advantage of that. Her dagger flashed and cut the dark witch's wand hand, sending wood and fingers flying. Before the witch realized what had happened India had pulled the bleeding arm to the side with her left hand, turning Lestrange to fully face her, and then slid her dagger into the woman's chest a fraction of a second before she crashed into the witch and pushed her to the ground, herself landing on top of her. Lestrange was staring at the Slayer, surprise and shock on her face. She started to laugh, only to end in a gurgling cough when blood ran out of her mouth. Then her eyes dimmed, and Bellatrix Lestrange was dead. Slain.

India got off her, wiping her dagger clean on the witch's robe and stood up to check on the watchers who had been hit. And the Order members too. She felt no remorse for killing the witch instead of trying to capture her. Her instincts had screamed at her to slay the witch, and so she had done it.

"Those Watchers have the right attitude. No hesitation, no nonsense, they cast and killed. With them we have a chance against the Death Eaters." Alastor sounded impressed while giving his report in Albus's office. His old friend had been hurt, splinter wounds from Blasting Curses, but Poppy had already taken care of those. "A dozen Death Eaters, down, including Bellatrix Lestrange."

"We took losses too," Albus reminded him. Dedalus had been a very old friend. He had fought in the first war with Voldemort as well. He had not been as skilled as others with a wand and had known it - but he had never let that keep him from fighting when needed. A true Gryffindor.

"Aye, we did. But all but one will be living. Even the Watcher that had caught a dark curse looked like he'd make it." Alastor, understandably, didn't really care about wounds, even crippling wounds. If he could go on with one leg, eye and nose less than others, then so could everyone else. Or so he claimed. "Too bad we could not capture Lestrange alive."

"How did the Slayer fight?"

Alastor hesitated a second before answering. "I think they wanted to hold her back. She was shooting a crossbow for most of the battle. Nailed most of the rank and file of the Death Eaters there though. And her charge at Lestrange… for a moment I thought she would have killed her even without our help, no matter what curse the witch would have hit her with."

"Impressive then." Albus made a mental note.

"Oh, yes. Very impressive. If she could use a wand even I'd be terrified." Alastor chuckled, but Albus thought his friend was not as much joking as he appeared. "What about your spy's cover?"

"We identified the dead. I will state in the next meeting that one of them let slip the time of the raid in the Leaky Cauldron, and that we all should keep our ears open for more of such slips. That should keep Severus from getting suspected." Albus didn't mention that Severus had argued about the value of the Tonks, as opposed to risking his cover, when he reported the upcoming attack.

"What's next?"

"I do hope Voldemort will not risk more of his forces for a while, giving us time to find his base."

"What about his… secret?" Alastor didn't name the horcruxes, not even in Albus's office. Some called that paranoid, Albus considered it prudent.

"I haven't made much progress there, sadly. But we cannot allow Voldemort to spread terror and tighten his grip on the Ministry."

"Is that why you didn't want the bodies found by the DMLE?"

"Yes. If Fudge could present the body of Bellatrix, he'd claim she had been killed on his orders and by his forces, and his position would be strengthened. Given his foolish delusions, that cannot be allowed."

"Too bad Lucius was not among the dead. That would have solved a big problem." Alastor looked at Albus, and the Headmaster knew what he was saying.

"If we get an opportunity, we'll take it. But he's very cautious."

"Everyone's luck runs out one day." Alastor stood up. "I'll head home before Poppy tries to stick me into a bed."

Chuckling at the image Albus waved him goodbye.

"The mission was a success then, Mister Fitzburg?" Quentin's voice was mild, but his expression was stern. One Watcher wizard down with a curse that would take weeks to recover from. Two more wounded - though healed by now.

"Yes, sir. We took out one of Voldemort's most trusted and skilled followers and her entire group of Death Eaters. That should set back his plans and operations significantly." Fitzburg met his eyes without flinching.

"Even counting the fact that the Slayer was exposed to our allies?" Quentin didn't sneer when talking about the Order of the Phoenix, even though their value in a fight was worse than he had feared, according to this mission.

"I do not think she was recognized because of her involvement, Sir. Of the Order members with us, one already knew of her, and the others did not seem to be tie her to her legend. And most of them had been wounded already, or otherwise focused on surviving against the dark witch, and had therefore been distracted."

"I do hope you are right. We cannot afford being exposed at this point." Once they had culled the Death Eaters' numbers some more, it wouldn't matter that much anymore. "Did you order the Slayer to engage in close combat?"

"I ordered her to take out the masked Death Eaters first. She didn't attack Lestrange until that had been accomplished, and did not close to melee range until attacks with her crossbow had been proven to be ineffective." This time Fitzburg stared at the wall behind Quentin.

So, the Slayer had followed orders, but interpreted them in creative ways. Maybe Quentin had to speak with Botwell again, and reconsider his decision to keep the Watcher out of action in Wizarding Britain. The Slayer was not as experienced to make the correct call in every situation. That was her Watcher's duty. "Very well. Go and rest some."

"Thank you Sir. "Fitzburg nodded and left Quentin's office. The wizard needed rest - he looked as exhausted as Quentin's grandniece lately. Hermione was pushing herself hard, maybe too hard, but she was close to finding a way to solve the horcrux problem. Other Watchers were researching the same topic, but Hermione was the one with access to the Hogwarts and Black Libraries. If they managed to find the ritual to restore a soul that had been rent by a demon, that should be able to restore Voldemort's soul as well, rendering the horcruxes including Potter's scar inert. Hermione could take all the breaks she needed after she finished that task. Not that Quentin thought he could make her take a break anyway. Chip of the old block, there.

"Bellatrix has not returned, nor have any of the men she took with them?" Lucius Malfoy flinched when the Dark Lord glared at the hapless Death Eater who had just told him that. "Your arm!" The heir of Slytherin commanded, and the wizard kneeling in front of him cut his own sleeve in his haste to obey. Lucius's lord pressed the tip of his wand to the dark mark visible there, and mumbled a short incantation. Then they waited. With each minute that passed, the Dark Lord became more angry, and Lucius more nervous. If Bellatrix did not arrive she was either dead or captured. Nothing else would keep her from the Dark Lord's side when he had summoned her.

Bellatrix and all the Death Eaters she had taken with her to remove that stain on her and his family captured or dead - who could have expected that? The only one who would have been able to face her would have been Dumbledore, but not even Bellatrix would have been so crazy as to stand and fight him. So, who could have taken down the witch? A strike team of aurors in an ambush, maybe? But Lucius would have expected information about such a big operation - one would have needed a lot of wands to defeat Bellatrix - to have leaked through one of the spies placed in the DMLE. The Order? They had not enough skilled wands to beat Bellatrix. She could have killed a dozen of the likes of Molly Weasley without trouble. Maybe Potter? He had faced the Dark Lord in a duel and lived after all. But he was still at Hogwarts, Draco kept an eye on him. And Dumbledore wouldn't let his golden boy fight in the war. No, there had to be someone else, someone unknown, behind this.

"Find out what had happened to my Bellatrix!" the Dark Lord growled after half an hour had passed. "Find out who will suffer my vengeance!"

The Death Eaters present scattered. Lucius was about to leave as well - he would have to arrange a visit to Fudge as soon as possible to find out what the fool knew - when the Dark Lord held him back with a raised hand. "Stay, Lucius."

Swallowing nervously, Lucius obeyed. "My Lord."

"With this new setback, it is imperative that I acquire the full prophecy as soon as possible. Dumbledore knows that as well. And yet our spies found out that the prophecy is not guarded anymore."

"Do you think it is a trap, My Lord?"

"I am sure it is. But the question is - is the bait there still, or has it been switched?"

"My Lord?"

"The only one able to take the prophecy apart from me is Potter. If the prophecy was taken out of the Department of Mysteries, then Potter will have been involved. Find out if that's the case." The Dark Lord dismissed Lucius with a curt gesture, and the blond wizard was too glad to leave, despite the difficult task he had just received.

How could he get to Potter when Dumbledore was keeping him so close to give special lessons almost every evening? Draco hadn't seen either Potter nor his mudblood girlfriend at Hogsmeade during any of the last weekends, so Dumbledore was even preventing them from leaving the castle, like in third year when everyone had thought Sirius Black was after Potter. Lucius himself wouldn't be able to enter Hogwarts, too dangerous. Fudge had aurors there, but they were not exactly the best spies, or trustworthy.

Lucius sighed. He'd have to send a letter to his son.

"You can't go on like this, Hermione!" Harry Potter was getting concerned. Hermione, his girlfriend, was looking worse each day. It was as if they were back in third year. "You barely sleep four hours per day, and you're working all the time." Now she was about to leave the room of requirement again, and not for bed, but for some more studying in the restricted section - after they had trained with Ron, who had left for a patrol with Lavender earlier, for two hours already.

"It's alright, I can manage." Hermione didn't meet his eyes.

"It's not! You're pushing yourself far too much, and it's harming you!"

"This is important, Harry."

"More important than your health?"

"Yes!"

He hadn't an answer to that ready, and stared at her in shock. "How can you say that? To me? If you… I mean… if anything happened to you, because of me…."

That seemed to get through to his girlfriend. She stepped up to him and hugged him, hard. He could feel how thin she was even through her robes. "Harry… your life is at stake. I cannot let you die. I am so close to finding a solution, so close to saving you..."

"But…"

"Harry…"

He could hear, feel her sob. She was crying. He ground his teeth in frustration. He wanted to tell her to let it go, to stop, to take care of herself, but he couldn't. She was doing this for him, and if he forbid her… she'd do it anyway. And if he found a way around that… she'd hate him. And still tried to do it anyway. "At least let me help."

"But you need all the training you can get to fight Voldemort." Hermione said between sobs.

"I can't train much if I worry about you. Let me help you." He pushed her back, breaking her hug, and stared at her, pleading. "Please."

She stared back, lips trembling, and finally nodded. Then they hugged each other again, staying like that, silently, for a while.

Draco Malfoy stared at the letter from his father. To spy on Potter with the goal to get leverage on him? He had been doing that for the entire term so far! Didn't his father listen to him? To get Potter one simply had to get the disgusting mudblood he was rutting around with. Oh, the rumor was they were getting "special lessons" from Dumbledore, but Draco had seen them far away from the Headmaster's office - that was obviously just a cover story. Though given how exhausted the mudblood was looking lately, she was likely shagging Weasley too, maybe others as well. Mudbloods were like that. They'd shag anyone if they thought that it would gain them an advantage. Or that it would keep them alive. He smirked at that thought, then grew serious again.

His father ordered him to be cautious, as if Draco hadn't been careful for the entire year. He had not even done anything about all the mudbloods walking around, just begging to be shown their place. He had been overly cautious. Maybe it was time to be a bit more daring. He hadn't learned those new spells to never use them, after all, and if he managed to get Potter, or his mudblood…