Chapter 11 (Interference): What is happening?
Tom the barman took his eyes off of the most recent Daily Prophet edition. This Abernathy fellow had caused quite a stir with his interview, and Tom was interested to see what the effects of this article would be.
A Killing Curse crashed into the window, and the window broke into pieces. Tom swore as he ducked under a table to avoid the spell, and the flying window fragments. What on earth?
Searching the bar for the idiot who was fool enough to fire a Killing Curse at the Hog's Head, Tom went outside, where he assumed the curse had come from. He saw three people at one of the outdoor tables, about a meter from the Hog's Head entrance.
"That Killing Curse came from nowhere," one man said. "How did it come from nowhere? It just looked like it appeared out from the air." The others were nodding in agreement.
Another Killing Curse appeared, again out of nowhere. The man swore as he ducked the spell.
"It's the fucking Death Eaters!" screamed another. "Probably Disillusioned or something."
"One way to find out," said the first man. "Homenum revelio."
Nothing happened.
"All right, you can stop covering for your damn fool drunk buddy," demanded Tom. "Who's the moron who's drunk enough to fire Killing Curses at the bar window?"
"We swear this is the truth," they said. "Those Killing Curses appeared out of nowhere, they did."
"How do you know the Death Eater isn't still here and his Disillusionment Charm was too powerful to be lifted by your spell?" the second man demanded of the first man. "We can't see him, we're sitting ducks. Bastard is probably enjoying this."
"That's impossible," the first man said. "Homenum revelio was invented by Albus Dumbledore himself, there's no way the spell would fail to lift a Disillusionment Charm of some idiot Death Eater."
"It's not the strength of the spell's inventor that matters, it's the strength of the caster. It doesn't matter that the spell's inventor was Albus bloody Dumbledore if the person trying to cast it isn't magically strong enough-"
Tom realized with a sinking feeling that these men, idiots though they were, were probably telling the truth about the Killing Curse coming from nowhere. They argued incoherently, but they argued too coherently for any of them to be drunk enough to fire a Killing Curse at the Hog's Head window. Whoever was firing Killing Curses was some mysterious, hidden attacker. Maybe the second man was right and it was a hidden Death Eater. Tom decided that maybe he should go back inside the bar and escape into Hogwarts through one of the secret passages. Maybe he should also report it to McGonagall or Dumbledore to see if they could solve the problem.
"Are you suggesting that I'm not magical enough to cast a simple 'reveal human presences' spell?" the first man roared. "Are you implying that I'm weak? I should challenge you to a duel, you worthless piece of-"
A Bone-Breaking Curse – also coming from seemingly nowhere – flew into the space between them, but as the Bone-Breaking Curse is colourless, no one noticed.
"Bring it on, I could wipe the floor with you any day!" the second man talked at the same time. "You never were very magically strong, Jenkins. Didn't you have an Acceptable minus in Defense? You never even learned how to cast nonverbally and look at-"
"If you're so magically powerful, Thornton, why don't you cast the goddamn revelio spell again and expose that Death Eater you're so sure is there? All the power in the world isn't useful to you if you're bloody insane and see things that aren't there. You belong with the damn inmates of Bedlam, not in the Department of Magical-"
"Gentlemen!" interceded a third man. "Please think this through, two bloody Killing Curses just zoomed into this bar with no known origin. If there really is a mysterious attacker, you're just making this a billion times easier for him-"
"Oh shut up, Jimmy, you bloody pansy," Thornton snorted. "Always the type to chicken out of conflicts. You Hufflepuff piece of-"
Jimmy, formerly the voice of reason, got furious too. "Just because I'm not a brainless Gryffindor doesn't mean shi-"
"Who you calling brainless?" screamed Thornton. The angry men were talking at the same time, trying to talk over each other, and constantly interrupting each other. "You Hufflepuffs don't have an ounce of brain in the first place, always blindly loyal to the-"
"If you're a Gryffindor, Thornton, why were you so scared of that bloody nonexistent Death Eater, huh? I thought Gryffindors didn't get scared," Jenkins sneered. "You're even hallucinating Death Eaters that aren't there. I bet that wasn't even a real Killing Curse anyway. You know the slug-vomiting curse? That's green too, maybe you would know it if you had ever paid attention in cla-"
A Blasting Curse appeared out of nowhere and struck the table that the men were at, blowing it to smithereens. All three men leaped wildly to their feet, looking wildly around. A random Disarming spell appeared next, flew through the air, and struck Jenkins, sending his wand flying off into the distance.
"You always did suck at Defense," Jimmy said as Jenkins scrambled wildly for his wand.
"It came from that direction!" screamed Thornton. "Die you motherfucker, die!" He slung a Blasting Curse at where he believed the mysterious attacking Death Eater to be. Nothing happened, and the spell sailed off into the distance.
"That spell went through the Death Eater," Thornton said in amazement.
"Or he dodged," said the man called Jimmy. "That's possible too, you know that? Or maybe Gryffindors don't know how to dodge things. Maybe that's why you had so much head injuries from Bludgers-"
"Still think there was actually a Death Eater? It's probably the Unspeakables fucking with us," said Jenkins, who had now picked up his wand. "Those Unspeakables have a weird sense of humour-"
Thornton's Blasting Curse continued to sail off into the distance and nearly struck patrolling Auror Sophia Harrison in the head. Almost immediately, the Auror twisted on the spot and Disapparated, rematerializing next to the group.
"What the hell was that? One of you idiots almost killed me with a goddamn Blasting Curse!" Harrison demanded. She was so angry she forgot to just Disarm them all first, and unprofessionally tried to argue with them. Her inexperience showed.
"There's a fucking invisible Death Eater there-" Thornton motioned with his wand – "firing fucking Killing Curses at us! I fired back but the invisible bastard dodged-"
"It's the fucking Unspeakables playing with us, this is probably their latest experiment," Jenkins said. "Thornton here is overreacting. The Blasting Curse to the table is probably them taking their stupid little prank a bit too far, but the Killing Curses are probably just slug-vomiting spells-"
"No, this fucking bastard is trying to fucking kill us!" Thornton insisted.
"You dumb bastard, you tried to fucking kill me!" screamed the Auror.
"No, I tried to kill the fucking Death Eater who was firing those fucking curses-" Thornton started.
"We've established that it was probably an Unspeakable fucking with us by firing these curses through a dimensional portal, they do that sort of thing. It might be kind of like a Portkey in that things are transported from one place to another, only they managed to do it with spells," Jenkins said in a bored tone. "Come to think of it, it's actually fascinating that they managed to do it with spells, which aren't physical objects like people. I thought this kind of breakthrough was years away-"
It was; Rookwood only developed his time spell in 1998.
"Thornton, you idiot," Jimmy the Hufflepuff groaned.
"I believe that it's more likely that you just tried to assassinate me with a Blasting Curse and made up a story about an imaginary invisible Death Eater hurling Killing Curses at you in order to get away with it," Auror Harrison said icily.
"But there were Killing Curses!" Thornton protested. "They almost hit us."
"They were slug-vomiting spells, probably," Jenkins repeated. "Slug-vomiting spells are green too. The Unspeakables are probably having a good laugh on the other side of their portal, they wouldn't send anything that would actually kill us. The Blasting Curse that blew up our table was meant to spook us, not kill us. You overreacted, Thornton, and you almost killed this Auror too."
"How about the next time one of those green spells appears, you lean into it, Jenkins. That'll test if it's really a slug-vomiting curse. If it is, I'll give you one thousand galleons," said Thornton. "If it isn't… I'll still give you one thousand galleons, for what good it'll do you."
"This is highly irregular, gentlemen. And I have no reason to believe that all of this has not just been made up, or that you two-" the Auror motioned to Jenkins and Jimmy – "were not accomplices in this attempted assassination and shitty coverup story. I'm going to have to take all of you into Ministry custody."
Jimmy glared at the Auror, then at Thornton. "I'm surrounded by idiots," he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Why do I hang around you morons?" He handed over his wand.
Thornton was panicking. "I've never been arrested in my entire life!" he exclaimed. "Do you have any idea what this is going to do to my record? You can't do this to me!"
"You almost hit a Ministry employee in the head with a Blasting Curse," Auror Harrison said calmly. "Be happy you're only being arrested. I'm still not sure you two aren't accomplices supporting his bloody 'Death Eater firing Killing Curses out of nowhere' story," she said.
"In his defense, it was a reasonable assumption," Jenkins said just as calmly. "That idiot Abernathy thought it would be a good idea to provoke the fucking Death Eaters in his interview with Cuffe, I'm surprised they haven't attacked yet-"
"Shut up!" Jimmy said to Jenkins. "Do you want them to attack us? The law of narrative causality says-"
"We're not in a fictional story!" Jenkins snapped. "We're in real life, and bad things don't immediately happen after a character says that they're not going to happen-"
"The Death Eaters are coming!" Thornton was hysterical. "If I'm in a Ministry holding cell, I'll be without my wand! What if the Death Eaters try to break into my cell and assassinate me? What if-"
"Relax, Thornton," Jenkins said. "You're not even important enough for the Death Eaters to assassinate in the first place. I can clear myself of wrongdoing with a Pensieve memory. You, on the other hand, can't because you actually fired a Blasting Curse at the Auror. If you'd listened to me when I said it was probably just the Unspeakables fucking with us-"
"Shut up!" screamed Thornton. "Just shut up!" He looked apoplectic.
"I've given you chances to come quietly," Auror Harrison said. "This is your last one. Hand over your wands, Jenkins and Thornton, or I'll take them by force."
"I won't be arrested! I won't be-"
"Expelliarmus," Jenkins sighed, and Thornton's wand flew to his hand. He then handed Thornton's wand and his own over to the Auror. "We'll come quietly," he said. "Suck at Defense, do I, now, Thornton?" he said to the other man.
"You goddamn bast – what?" Thornton paused in confusion as a Patronus Charm appeared out of nowhere and flew in front of his face. "A Patronus Charm? A fucking Patronus Charm? What's that supposed to do?"
"See? I told you it was the Unspeakables fucking with us," said Jenkins. "There is no Death Eater, they don't cast Patronus Charms at their enemies. I probably would've only vomited slugs if I'd been hit by that green spell," he incorrectly hypothesized.
And then, two Patronus Charms, five Blasting Curses, three Cutting Curses, and a Stupefy suddenly appeared out of nowhere, with no apparent casters.
"Holy shit!" exclaimed Auror Harrison, and Disapparated just in time. No shield would have held up to that volley, unless Dumbledore or Voldemort themselves had cast it.
"GET DOWN!" exclaimed Jenkins. "EVERYBODY GET DOWN-" he pulled Jimmy down with him, and they dropped to the ground, letting the spells sail over them.
Thornton had turned and ran, screaming bloody murder, back into the bar, from the Blasting Curses and Cutting Curses, before he remembered that he was a wizard, and could Apparate. He attempted to Disapparate, but one of the Cutting Curses caught him in the back, and another Cutting Curse hit him in the arse. He Splinched violently.
"Five Blasting Curses?" said Jenkins as he cautiously rose to his feet again. "Maybe it is the Death Eaters."
And then he heard the POPs of Apparation as thirty – possibly more – Death Eaters Apparated into Diagon Alley. A Death Eater pointed his wand at another outdoors table and cheerfully exploded it too.
"Crucio!" one of the Death Eaters shouted, waving his wand forward. Jenkins dropped again, but Jimmy was not fast enough, and was hit by the curse.
"That's my brother, you bastards!" Jenkins screamed at the Death Eaters. He recognized the Death Eater now: Jugson.
"Crucio!" Jugson said again. "Crucio, now scream a little louder-"
And then something invisible crashed into Jugson. The Death Eater's wand went flying. The second after that, Jugson's wand arm disappeared into a bloody mess.
"FUCK-" the Death Eater screamed.
Jenkins needed to see nothing else. If someone invisible had cursed Jugson's arm off, the Unspeakables were clearly intervening in this conflict against the Death Eaters. The population would be safe.
But more important than that, he needed to ensure Jimmy's safety. He grabbed his brother and Apparated out.
A few yards away, Madam Rosmerta stared in confusion as an unknown witch materialized out of nowhere. "Arresto Momentum," Rosmerta incanted, to stop the witch's head from crashing forwards into the concrete pavement. She then levitated the witch inside. Aside from being unconscious, the witch seemed to be completely sober, so this was not a case of drunken Apparation. Rosmerta glanced out the window. There were Death Eaters casting spells at civilians! This witch must have attempted to escape from them by Apparating out, succeeded in doing so, but had magically exhausted herself in the process.
Rosmerta turned to the fireplace and threw Floo powder into it. Some time at St. Mungo's would help whoever this witch was.
"Everyone evacuate now," Rosmerta said to the customers. "We need to all get out safely." The customers all immediately made to Apparate away. All except one, one Barty Crouch Junior.
"Barty?" Rosmerta asked. "You should leave too, you can't fight these Death Eaters. We all need to get out safely."
Barty didn't answer.
"…Barty?" Rosmerta asked again.
"I must fight the Death Eaters," Barty lied smoothly. "I am a Gryffindor, after all."
Then he turned and left, but to help the Death Eaters, not fight them.
Of course, Rosmerta didn't know that.
Rosmerta's face crashed into the palm of her hand. Multiple times. "Gryffindors." Then she Flooed to Hogwarts, which was, after all, the safest place in magical Britain.
(line break)
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts
"This is extremely out of line," the Headmaster said. The twinkle was gone from his eye. "You nearly murdered a fellow student today with your little 'prank.' The student that you've almost killed is right here, sitting right next to you. Can you face him? Face what you've done, admit that it was wrong, and apologize? If you do not, you will certainly be expelled."
"I'm sorry, sir," said the student. "It was just a harmless prank-"
"Don't apologize to me," the Headmaster said. "Apologize to-"
The Headmaster's office doors swung open.
"Hello, Minerva," the Headmaster said.
"Albus! There are reports of Diagon Alley being attacked by Death Eaters! We need-"
"How interesting. Is Tom among their number?" asked Dumbledore.
"I don't know, he could be arriving to reinforce them at any moment. Albus, we need-"
"Tom is still injured from two Blasting Curses to the chest he received last week at Godric's Hollow," Dumbledore waved off. "Since only the Death Eaters are coming, Moody and Bones' Auror squad should be enough."
"Albus-" Minerva said.
"No, Minerva," the Headmaster said, having noticed that his delinquent student had briefly appeared hopeful that his punishment would be delayed because the Headmaster had to go fight the Death Eaters. "I've allowed pranksters to run amok before with schemes that almost killed students before. That cannot happen again. We can't have another James Potter and Severus Snape at this school, can we? I have to make sure of that personally. I hope that you understand. Now dismiss yourself from this office. If the Death Eaters are really in very huge numbers, you can call in Crouch and Dawlish's Auror squads in as well, or add yourself too. Or Lucrecia Bowtruckle, she's still active. Or all of the above."
Flitwick entered the room. "Minerva, there are reports of Orion Black, Kieran Abernathy, and some unknown witch – I swear she looks familiar, I just can't place her name – fighting off Death Eaters. There are also reports of Dawlings – I remember when he was a fifth year prefect – fighting three Death Eaters at once, and he seems to be winning! I remember he graduated with an O plus in Defense, and he even taught Defense once, but I didn't know he was this good. Rita Skeeter somehow managed to get pictures of both encounters… in a warzone. I swear, she must be an illegal Animagus to be able to get those pictures without being blasted to pieces."
"Now, Filius, don't throw around unfounded accusations like that. Skeeter could sue you," McGonagall said absently. "These… what? Are these genuine pictures?"
"Or the public themselves can stand up and fight off Lord Voldemort's insurgents," the Headmaster said. "It is all well in hand. While they deal with Death Eaters on the battlefield, I shall try to prevent more of them from being created here at Hogwarts through resentment and hatred. Now get out of my office while I deal with this miscreant here."
The Headmaster still intended for young Harry Potter and Tom to die at each other's hands, because the prophecy demanded it. It was unfortunate, but it was necessary and it would save the most lives.
But the prophecy of the destruction of Voldemort would be easier to fulfill if the Headmaster ripped out Tom's support base at Hogwarts from under him. If he continued to turn a blind eye, the Death Eaters' support might grow unchecked at this school. Tom Riddle would not go down easily in the first place, but he would take down a lot more people with him before he finally died if his support was allowed to grow unchecked. His support needed to be vastly decreased before Dumbledore could kill him by throwing Harry Potter at him.
He just needed to time everything correctly. Tom Riddle's support needed to gradually, but not suddenly, decrease to zero. When Harry faced him in the encounter that would kill both of them, he needed to have enough support to still qualify as being a Dark Lord by the prophecy's description, but not enough support to damage magical Britain beyond repair when he and his followers inevitably went out with a bang trying to take as many people with them to their deaths.
Ideally, as Dumbledore cut the strings on Tom Riddle's support base, only Harry Potter would have to die to take out Tom Riddle and his organization. He wished it could be otherwise, and that Harry could live, but the prophecy said that Tom and Harry would both die.
Ideally, no one would die from here on out against Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters, but Dumbledore knew that was impossible. Of course future casualties would occur. It was always the case with someone as violent as Tom or Gellert. But if he wanted to minimize the casualties against Riddle and his Death Eaters, he needed to overturn Lord Voldemort's support at Hogwarts… somehow. It was a plan. A plan in progress. He wasn't sure how he was going to do it. But he had to attempt it… somehow.
He shook himself from his train of thought. "Now, where were we?" he said, turning his stern gaze on the student who had almost killed another with a 'prank.' "This was attempted murder, and you have options. Not many options. But you have options. You can be expelled, you can go to trial, or…"
The 'prankster' gulped.
(line break)
Ministry of Magic, Atrium
Auror Sophia Harrison had Apparated into the Ministry Atrium, just in time to avoid that strange volley of spells that had seemed to originate from absolutely nowhere. Thornton would have to be arrested later. But if other spells of a similar nature had appeared from nowhere in the past few minutes, and had almost hit Thornton, she could actually understand his knee-jerk Blasting Curse response.
She found some other Aurors, and started to describe the incident so they could send Ministry analysts to the area in question to determine from where the spells had originated. "Some spells appeared-" she started.
Alastor Moody clunked into the room. "We have reports of Death Eaters attacking Diagon Alley! We must be on the move to stop them," he said. "Come on!" The Aurors proceeded to Apparate out.
"Hold on," said Unspeakable Croaker, who had overheard the conversation. "I need to have a brief word with Auror Harrison here."
Moody was annoyed, but let it pass, because although Croaker was still a young man, just five years out of Hogwarts, he was one of the Unspeakables' more brilliant minds, and if he wanted to talk about something it was usually pretty important.
In a lower tone, Croaker asked, "Did you say, some spells appeared? What do you mean by that?"
"Some spells appeared out of nowhere. No known origin, no apparent casters. I would say that the casters were invisible, but I have a ring of homenum revelio so that anyone invisible in a three meter radius of me should be instantly revealed, and the spells came from a point one meter in front of me so it can't possibly be that."
"You've got to be shitting me, right?"
"No," she replied. She decided not to mention Thornton's stray Blasting Curse, how she had almost been hit by it, or how she had proceeded to forget to just Disarm and Stun the three in favour of a long protracted argument with them. That was extremely embarrassing. Also if she mentioned that, Moody would probably eject her from the Auror squad, and she needed this job to make ends meet. She would just need to be a lot more careful and never screw up again. Ever.
"Shit," Croaker said. His Medallis Veritas had glowed blue, signifying that Harrison had made a true statement. "Shit."
"Death Eaters are attacking Diagon Alley," Croaker was talking out loud to himself, "and some spells appeared out of nowhere with no known origin. There are no apparent casters. The casters aren't even physically there, but managed to send a curse at a location while not even being physically present. These two things happening at the same time cannot possibly be a coincidence. The Death Eaters developed a way to send spells at a location while not even physically being there. Perhaps through a portal or something? That's impossible. That kind of breakthrough is supposed to be decades away, so we probably would find it in seven months or so. Rookwood said to me that the required Arithmantic calculations would take three months for even him to solve correctly… shit."
"Shit, shit, shit!" Croaker said. "Goddamn it! Rookwood was a Death Eater! He probably had already invented the spell and told us that he hadn't invented it, so the spell would only be known to Death Eaters! Oh, bugger all! If the Death Eaters are out there… and Rookwood is among their number… shit! He probably taught them how to use that spell before we nailed him with that prophecy in the Department of Mysteries!" The Unspeakables had not actually been the ones to nail Rookwood with the prophecy, but other people didn't need to know that. "Even with Moody and Bones' Auror squadrons, a bunch of Death Eaters who can send spells through portals to assassinate people from kilometres away? They're fucked. They're all fucked. Oh, Merlin," he groaned.
"Don't go with the rest of your Aurors to Diagon Alley," Croaker implored. "If I'm right, the Death Eaters have the ultimate advantage there and you'd just die with them."
"I am an Auror," Harrison said. "It's my job to help them."
"It'll be a massacre!" said Croaker. "When the Death Eaters sent those spells and almost hit you, that was probably their test run. Now that they know the spell will work for them, all of their enemies they face – or rather, don't face – today, will die! We need at least one Auror to survive today, and I'd rather it was the best Auror." He tried for a winning smile, but it didn't seem very successful.
Harrison turned slightly pink anyway, but stood her ground. She wouldn't screw up as an Auror again. "I'm sorry, Croaker. I can't do as you ask. I'd never be able to live with myself knowing that I had the opportunity to save them, but I chose not to. If I go with them, at least I can get rescue some of them, get some of them out if the Death Eaters do assassinate people this way. If I go, and I know what's coming, maybe more of us will survive today. Besides, as you said…" she winked. "I am the best Auror."
"You don't understand!" protested Croaker. "They'll set Anti-Disapparation wards to prevent you all from escaping, and then assassinate all of you from afar! We need at least one Auror to survive today!" He cast a Stunner while talking, hoping it would catch her off guard.
This time, however, she was ready, and deflected the spell, and it sailed harmlessly into the Ministry wall. "You're an Unspeakable, not an Auror," she chided. Then she Disapparated.
(line break)
A few hours later
Croaker anxiously paced around his desk. He went back to his desk and checked his self-updating copy of The Weekly Wizard, which was a total misnomer because it updated continuously. It was one newspaper that self-updated continuously. He'd hired reporters that actually valued journalistic integrity to write for it. The Weekly Wizard was, in Croaker's not-so-humble opinion, a great newspaper, much more reliable and facts-oriented than The Daily Prophet. But then again, the Quibbler was much more reliable and facts-oriented than The Daily Prophet. At least the Prophet was still in the hands of Barnabus Cuffe. He shuddered to think what would happen if the Prophet ever fell into the hands of Cuffe's second-in-command and far more unscrupulous 'reporter', Rita Skeeter.
He watched the newspaper intently. And then, the words DIAGON ALLEY BATTLE CASUALTY REPORT appeared on the newspaper. Crap. This looked bad. He scanned the newspaper. Dolohov was dead, who cares. The man was a Death Eater and deserved it. Croaker was slightly surprised that with the Death Eaters' monumental assassination advantage, that any of the Death Eaters had died at all. He remembered Dolohov had historically been rather rash and always on the front lines, so he might not have wanted to assassinate people from afar. If that was the case, he fought the Death Eaters' enemies on the front lines, he got stupid, and then he got dead. And nothing of value was lost.
Selwyn was dead. Jugson was dead. Rabastan Lestrange was dead, too. Sheesh, the Death Eaters weren't very good at this, were they? They have a spell that allows them to assassinate people from a long distance away, and Death Eaters that important to Voldemort's cause still die? They had to be ridiculously incompetent. As a sidenote, he almost pitied the poor bastard who was around to receive Bellatrix's wrath when she learned of Rabastan's death. Almost.
He scanned the Auror and civilian casualty lists. A man named Thornton was severely injured. He remembered Thornton from his Hogwarts days. Thornton, the picture-perfect example of what a Gryffindor should not be. All bluster, very little actual toughness. He probably dared the Death Eaters to curse him and was surprised when they did.
A man named Dawlings was dead. He had killed six Death Eaters; three with spells, two with a knife, one by punching him in the throat. That was impressive, but then the seventh Death Eater had cut Dawlings in half. A shame. He had remembered Dawlings also from his Hogwarts days. He had taught Defense Against the Dark Arts to Croaker way back in the day, before getting fired when it had become discovered that Dawlings had killed a man in Ireland in a bar fight. He also remembered that McGonagall had predicted one day Dawlings would get into a fight he couldn't win. Well, Croaker thought, I guess that day was today.
Mad-Eye Moody was in St. Mungo's in critical condition. Ah, there was the Death Eaters' success. They had hospitalized Moody, Bones, John Dawlish, Sr., and Scrimgeour. Orion Black, Aberforth Dumbledore, and Kieran Abernathy were missing, all presumed dead. Sheesh, Albus would be furious at this. Maybe he'd finally get off his arse now and stop preaching endless second chances; maybe he'd even kill a few Death Eaters. Maybe. He checked the newspaper again. A witch of unknown name was also in St. Mungo's, not in critical condition, but pretty hurt.
Unfortunately, the article continued, we have not been able to identify many of these people because of the Fiendfyre. Additionally, someone (probably a Death Eater) appears to have enacted anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey wards, probably to stop people from escaping the Fiendfyre. The wards were extremely strong and took five of the Ministry's strongest cursebreakers working simultaneously to lift. The Fiendfyre was dispelled courtesy of Professors Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout working in tandem. In the picture below, the Professors smile tiredly at the cameras after extinguishing the Fiendfyre.
Croaker ignored the picture. Fiendfyre! Damn! So the Death Eaters had tried to send Fiendfyre through the portal, or had they cast it on the ground? It seemed to make more sense that they had sent Fiendfyre through the portal. Why risk the Fiendfyre killing you too if you didn't have to? But then, how were there Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey wards? Could the Death Eaters send wards through the portal too? Or did they have some poor self-sacrificial sap – possibly Imperiused, possibly truly that fanatically devoted – on the ground to cast the anti-transport wards while they sent Fiendfyre through the portal? Both possibilities were terrible.
More words appeared on the newspaper.
Also, because I know you want this piece of information most of all, Croaker… Auror Sophia Harrison survived and saved the lives of seven other Aurors from the Fiendfyre besides, despite the anti-Apparition and anti-Portkey wards. Something about Transfiguring the other Aurors into miniature dolls so they could all escape and being an illegal eagle Animagus. Now ask her to dinner, you moron, before it's too late. She might not survive the next Death Eater encounter. ~ Mari
Postscript – yes, I only keyed this paragraph to be able to be read by you. None of the other Unspeakables will be able to read it.
Well, that was some bit of good news, anyway. She was still not the best Auror, but she was getting there.
Jimmy Jenkins is in St. Mungo's in critical condition after being Cruciated twice. Also, after lethal spells seemed to appear out of nowhere multiple times, narrowly missing himself, his brother Patrick Jenkins, and William Thornton, Thornton proceeded to flip out with a Blasting Curse and nearly hit Auror Harrison by accident.
Okay, Thornton deserved his place at St. Mungo's.
Sidenote – again, only you can see this, Croaker, so make good use of the information I'm about to tell you. This is one of the days that civilians have fought against the Death Eaters in broad daylight – something that doesn't occur too often, because, after all, most wizards and witches of magical Britain are sheep. Those civilians who fought against the Death Eaters were Orion Black (hardly counts as a civilian, since his son was murdered by Death Eaters and it's surprising he did not go on a warpath sooner) (missing, presumed dead in the Fiendfyre), Aberforth Dumbledore (missing, presumed dead in the Fiendfyre), Kieran Abernathy (missing, presumed dead in the Fiendfyre), Alfred Dawlings (definitively dead by an exceptionally strong Cutting Curse – I always feared he'd get in a fight he couldn't win some day), and this witch (unnamed). Here's a picture.
Croaker examined the picture of the witch, who appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Short, brown hair, green eyes. Jagged scar on left cheek, probably from a previous fight.
There are no records of her at all. This witch was last seen in combat against a wizard who looked suspiciously like one Augustus Algernon Rookwood. Yes, Rookwood is supposed to be insensate after being hit with a Prophecy Orb – nice work on that, by the way. But this wizard looked too much like Rookwood and cast too skillfully to be a regular imposter. Perhaps Dark Lord Uglyface himself with Polyjuice? In any case, Fiendfyre appeared shortly afterwards, and then this witch vanished with no explanation. The most likely scenario, then, is that she then died in the Fiendfyre.
A witch that looked exactly like this one Apparated to Madam Rosmerta's bar, some twenty minutes before the Fiendfyre started, when the fight at Diagon Alley was still just beginning, and then collapsed of magical exhaustion, likely after fleeing Death Eaters of some sort. She was then sent to St. Mungo's. There's no way that this witch and the one fighting the Rookwood-look-alike can possibly the same person, especially because Rosmerta evacuated the bar of all its customers and sent this witch to St. Mungo's, and while she was being transferred to a hospital bed, her lookalike was fighting the Rookwood imposter. These events happened at the same time, and obviously the same witch can't be in two places at once. They must be two different witches. Perhaps they are identical twins? Or the one fighting at Diagon Alley was just Polyjuiced as her? This one fled from the Death Eaters and the other stayed and fought, and quite possibly died in the Fiendfyre set by the Rookwood imposter? And if they are identical twins, why do we have no record of her or her sister? We pay a lot of attention to identical twins in the magical world. Maybe they are from a different country. France has its own anti-Voldemort movement; maybe the French sent somebody over. If and when she recovers, try finding out what she knows. Also, I know you can be inconsiderate sometimes, Croaker, so please try to be gentle with your questions. After all, her twin sister (if she has one) or her friend (if the witch at Diagon Alley was a Polyjuiced imposter) might just have died in Fiendfyre. Try to be considerate.
~ Mari
Damn, Croaker thought. Okay, just by making these observations and drawing these conclusions – even if they were inaccurate – Mari Crawford deserved a pay raise. He'd try to give her one, once he got this interview.
He tossed Floo Powder into the fireplace, called out, "St. Mungo's!" and was gone.
Author's Note: Sorry I took so long to update. It's been a hectic ride and I only graduated from high school one week ago. I tried to flesh out some characters but since I haven't been able to write this in a while I ended up rushing this chapter very quickly. In particular, I tried to give Dumbledore more layers since he shouldn't be all 100% mustache twirling evil old man. (In fairness, when I started this story summer after my sophomore year, I was quite edgy.) Aaaand it's the 2-year anniversary of when I started this story! 2 years, and only 11 chapters. Damn it, high school.