The War Begins
A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.
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September 13, Hogwarts
Eventually, around dinnertime, Xander manned up and pulled Willow aside. "Willow, we kinda need to talk, and I need you to promise me you won't go all witchy on me."
Willow eyed him for a long moment. "What did you do, Xander?" She asked, half-laughing. "Blow up the queer ditch pitch ... "
"Quidditch, Willow. Careful! There's kids around here who'd lynch you for mispronouncing it." Xander said with a grin. "They get a little testy about that game in these parts."
Willow flapped a hand at him. "Quid-ditch then." She said. "What's wrong, mister. You never do the we need to talk, don't get witchy thing unless something's wrong, and I always end up being witchy anyway 'cause it's usually something bad, so just spill."
"I know what the deal is with Harry's scar." Xander said. "It's something called a horcrux. Basically, it's a piece of Voldemort's soul that he ripped off in order to help make him immortal. As long as even one piece of his soul exists, he can't actually die."
Willow's mouth flapped open for a moment. For a moment, Xander thought maybe, just maybe, they'd get through this without Willow going nuclear. Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that Willow had just needed a few seconds to process what she'd been told, because her expression twisted in rage, her fists clenched, and the classroom Xander had pulled her into to tell her started to vibrate. Worse, her hair started darkening. No veins or black eyes yet, but they'd be next.
"Willow! Willow, no! Calm down, Wills. Please?" Xander.
"I am going to wipe him out." Willow growled, her voice starting to get that uber-creepy edge to it.
"No, Willow!" Xander said, grabbing for her arms. "I won't let you do that. I can't."
"Why not? He is nothing but hate and fear and death. He needs to be destroyed!" Willow's hair darkened further.
"You're right, but I won't let you do it, Wills. Because if you did, you'd end up as bad as him, and I kind of like my Willow-shaped friend just the way she is. We will deal with him, Willow, but I refuse to let you be the one to kill him. It would destroy you. So please, for me?"
She glared at him. "Promise me."
"Oh, I promise you. That sick asshole's dead meat. If at all possible, I'll put an axe through his head personally."
"But why can you kill him and I can't?" Willow wanted to know. Thankfully, she was beginning to calm down a bit, her hair resuming its normal color.
"Because I don't have uberwitch powers that react rather badly to getting pissed off." Xander pointed out. Well, the magic didn't react badly ... Willow just tended to reach for the wrong kind of magic when she was seriously angry. "Because it's my job to protect my girls, even if they can kick my ass six ways from Sunday without even trying. You, Buffy, Faith, and the rest of the Slayers ... you don't ever deal with purely human enemies if I ever have a say in it. The cost for you guys is too dear, and one I refuse to let any of you pay if I can prevent it."
Willow finally calmed down the rest of the way, and gave a bit of a sniffle. Xander hugged her. "I promise, Willow. He'll be dealt with. Permanently. You just go talk to Agnes and figure out a way to get rid of that thing and figure out how to find out if there's more of them out there." And sending her to Agnes would finish the job he'd started of calming her down and keeping her from doing something that would cost her dearly. As nice, neat, and convenient as it would be, and his offhand comment to Snape aside, Willow frying Voldemort wasn't going to happen. He let her go, and moments later she'd popped out to go confer with Agnes. Xander took a deep breath and blew it out, then headed back towards the Great Hall.
September 13, Fudge's Home
Dolores Jane Umbridge, erstwhile (though she didn't realize it yet) Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, had had a rotten week. No, make that two weeks. She should never have agreed to teach at that bloody school! She hated the little monsters. They had no respect for a woman of her position! She'd been subjected to laughter and sneers and, far worse, pranks of every description. And then that bloody one-eyed freak of a muggle had ... had ... she shuddered as she stalked up the road, and a hand went to her throat. He had quite blatantly threatened to kill her. He couldn't do that! It was against the law!
Worse, she'd been chased from the grounds by a snarling, snapping vampire and an insane house elf! How a vampire had gotten on the grounds, she really didn't know, and she'd be bringing it up to the Minister once she got in contact with him. Not to mention that house elf getting far above itself. It would have to be dealt with as well. That was the other odd thing. Fudge ... was completely incommunicado. She dismissed the wild tales of a takeover of the Ministry ... that was impossible! His continued silence was worrying, however.
Finally, she made it to his home ... and found it empty. She did, however, finally get her hands on some back issues of the Prophet. The news there horrified her. Fudge really was unseated. Azkaban raided. The Prophet had fact alongside fiction, truth alongside rumor in their usual style, but the essential facts were unfortunately undeniable.
This could not be allowed! Something must be done! She would need to free Fudge, and then he could take these interlopers to task. Yes, that was the answer. But she would need assistance. Perhaps ... she peered at the articles more closely. Nowhere was Lucius Malfoy mentioned. He had, perhaps, escaped the attack then. Yes, she would go to Lucius for assistance. He was a good friend of Fudge's and would be willing to assist in his rescue and reinstatement as Minister. Umbridge let the papers dropped and left Fudge's home, heading for Malfoy Manor.
September 12-13, Various Locations
An unexpected cold and bitter weather front moved in from the northwest the morning of the twelfth, insofar as muggles were concerned. They were wholly unaware the foul weather was rolling in ahead of some two or three hundred dementors. Very hungry dementors. For too long had they hungered, permitted only the smallest of meals to keep them alive. Now, they were free of constraint, and food in plenty awaited their whims.
The first 'deaths', in the more remote regions close to Azkaban, went unreported, as there was no one left alive to report. Or, well ... alive in the sense of having a mind and soul and the ability to do more than stare vacantly into the distance. But now the dementors were getting into more populated territory. Some wizard or witch saw the incoming weather for what it was or glimpsed a dementor, and raised the alarm.
It was in the midst of this chaos that the Death Eaters struck their first blows. Partially recovered from the Azkaban breakout, the Death Eaters had spread out to find the answers their Lord sought. They were not nearly so stealthy in their first attacks as the dementors had been. A half dozen low-level Ministry employees, home after a long day's work, were interrogated and killed before their homes were razed to the ground, Marks floating in the sky overhead. That night, they returned to their Lord and reported their findings.
September 13, Malfoy Manor, evening
Lucius had returned to his home for a bit of dinner after a long day's ... work. He needed to think, and do a bit of research. The information he had procured had been ... most disturbing. A tale of extremely powerful girls and an essentially simultaneous strike on all floors of the Ministry, apparently flawlessly performed, with every marked Death Eater marched to the holding cells within minutes. It made him glad he'd not been in conference with Fudge that night.
There was something vaguely familiar about the remarkably consistent descriptions of the girls, though. Lucius couldn't quite figure out what. Something he'd read or heard, obviously, but it had to have been some time ago or only the barest of mentions for him not to be able to recall the specifics.
He headed into his library and started perusing titles, attempting to figure out where he might begin, when his sole remaining house elf (blast that Potter's bloody hide to hell and back) popped in.
"There is being someone at the door wishing to see you, Master. They is saying their name is Umbridge."
That perked Lucius' attention. Whatever was the Madam Undersecretary doing here? Wasn't she supposed to be at Hogwarts? "See her into the drawing room." He commanded, then regarded the shelves of books. It would seem his research must needs wait for another time. He swept into his drawing room and blinked. Umbridge looked like she'd crawled through the soot-covered bowels of hell.
The next half hour provided Lucius with some exceedingly ... interesting information, in among the slightly insane babble. Evidently Umbridge's mind, never the sturdiest of places to begin with, had been pushed to the breaking point by the last two weeks at Hogwarts.
"Come, my dear. I know of someone who can assist us in regaining control of the Ministry. Someone who will be well pleased with the information you possess." He told her. "We shall go there at once."
September 13, Voldemort's hideout, evening
Slowly, they gathered back in his presence, one by one. All bearing similar tales of strong, fast girls and swift action taken. Some few had even managed to extract names from their victims, but none of those meant anything to Voldemort. They did not truly identify who these people were. Voldemort was on the verge of losing his temper and punishing them all for their incompetence when Lucius arrived with a visitor.
"Lucius. Tell me why you have brought a stranger into my presence." Voldemort purred, fingering his wand prepatory to hexing Lucius into oblivion.
Lucius instantly fell to his knees, face almost in the dirt. "Forgive me, master, but she bears news of great import from Hogwarts, and I thought perhaps you would wish to hear it from her."
Voldemort regarded Lucius and Umbridge for a long moment. "You have done well, Lucius. You may rise. Come, Madame Umbridge, come closer. I would very much like to hear the tale you have to tell."
Umbridge had frozen dead still when she'd spotted Voldemort, utterly terrified. Some part of her mind knew who this was, but, like Fudge before her, she refused to accept that truth, and the part of her that was screaming at her got buried under the rest. This man would help her rescue Fudge. That was all she needed to know. After a long moment's hesitation, she took a few hesitant steps forward, and began to talk.
"So." Voldemort purred when she finally wound down. "The Watcher's Council seeks to intervene in affairs beyond their limited, pathetic scope. This will prove quite entertaining. You have done well, Madam, and you shall be rewarded. As shall you, Lucius, for bringing her before me." He looked at the group and grinned maliciously. "Go. Sow chaos and death where you will. Draw these interlopers out and then destroy them."
They went. Once only Umbridge and Pettigrew remained, Voldemort grew thoughtful. The Watcher's Council had taken over the Ministry. A rather interesting, if inevitably futile move. They had the clout to do so, but they were Watchers and earth witches. Their chances of actually managing anything against him ... unless ... unless the witch who had wrenched Severus from his grasp was one of their number. If that was the case, the Council might indeed prove to be a challenge. What worried and confused him was that there was, evidently, more than one Slayer now. There were, in fact, dozens, if the Ministry takeover had been performed entirely by Slayers. That should not be possible. There was but one Slayer at any given time. It was, according to his understanding, an immutable law. The Slayers themselves were of little concern to him ... according to the tales he'd heard, did they kill a human, they would eventually be driven mad, so their ability to counter his followers was limited in the extreme. But their existence was yet more evidence towards the Council having access to an earth witch of incredible power, and that would be making him sweat, if he'd still possessed sweat glands at this point. He was going to have to figure out how to deal with this earth witch, if he intended to succeed in taking over the Wizarding world.
September 13, The Ministry, evening
About the time Voldemort was contemplating the Council problem, the Ministry resembled a kicked-over hornet's nest yet again. The place was swarming with Ministry employees, Slayers, three-quarters of the Devon Coven, and every Watcher that could be spared. The best and brightest from both worlds had been in close conference since the first report of dementors feeding on the populace had come in, trying to figure out a way to contain the beasts at the very least, until such time as they'd managed to figure out how to kill the things. Sometime in the early evening, they'd worked out a solution, and all that remained was to actually round the things up.
Every witch and wizard capable of a patronus, whether corporeal or not, had been asked to assist in dealing with the menaces once they got containment figured out. A surprisingly large number answered the call, and they'd gone out in groups to begin herding the creatures. Several groups of wizards headed out to fairly remote spots scattered in the general area the dementors had been reported to be feeding in, and with assistance from a group of slayers, began to build the containment.
Word of the Death Eater attacks had prompted Giles to pair some of the Slayers, armed with nonlethal weapons (tasers and the like) with the most vulnerable of the Ministry employees for additional protection, and others to act as general escorts for everyone else. Some of the girls had taken to trying to show the more willing of their charges how to use muggle weapons to good effect. While nobody would be able to knife a Death Eater in the stomach with ease anytime soon, the learning had the same general effect on the adults as it did the kids at Hogwarts ... they felt less afraid, and weren't acting quite as victim-like as they otherwise might have.
September 14, Hogwarts, evening
It had taken Willow all the previous night to both calm down completely and, in close conference with Agnes, figure out how to remove the horcrux from behind Harry's scar. It was going to be a bit on the tricky side, as the thing had, rather like Snape's Mark, gotten attached to Harry, and separating the two without doing damage to Harry was of paramount concern. The others would be ridiculously easy to destroy, even at a distance.
She returned just before breakfast, just in time for another meeting of all the adults in the castle. This time Snape was present, and they were discussing the news that was coming in thanks to calls from Giles and letters from worried parents.
"He will send his followers to destroy and kill at will." Snape told them. "Crabbe, Goyle, and Pettigrew will be of no real worry. Crabbe and Goyle have perhaps one brain cell between them, and Pettigrew dares not leave his Lord's side for fear of facing the wrath of everyone that cared for the Potters." Including him, even if it was only one of the two that Snape wanted to avenge. "Lucius will content himself with relatively small amusements. The true dangers are the Lestranges, Carrows, Fenrir Greyback and Dolohov. They were among Voldemort's fiercest fighters the first time around, and now they have grudges. It would be wise to arrange more secure premises for the remaining Longbottoms, as Bellatrix is likely to seek them out."
There were nods around the room, and then McGonagall looked over at Xander. "You spoke to Dumbledore. Did he tell you anything?"
Xander glowered. "Yeah, he told me something all right." He ran through what Dumbledore had told him, had admitted to. By the time he was winding down, most of the hardline Dumbledore supporters were looking rather less supporty. They'd been hearing this sort of stuff for days, but the fact that it just kept coming was not allowing them to stick their fingers in their ears and pretend not to hear what was being said. Then Xander said. "And apparently, his whole plan for defeating Voldemort went 'let him kill Harry, then kill Voldemort myself'." Ok, so that hadn't been what Dumbledore had said, but Xander would willingly go to hell, literally, before he told anyone other than Willow about the horcrux in Harry's head. That was something no one needed to know ... including Harry. All it'd do is traumatize him and have everyone treating him like he'd turn into Voldemort any second.
Pretty much everyone blew a gasket, but the real surprise for Xander was Molly Weasley. She came up out of her seat like a rocket, face as red as her hair, and murder in her eye. For once, though, it was not focused on Xander.
"HE WHAT?" She roared, her voice clear over everyone else's. "He was going to ... but Harry's just a boy! A child! And he was going to let that ... that ... that monster kill him? I'm going to give that man a piece of my mind!" She brandished her wand and stormed from the room. Nobody seemed to be in the mood to stop her.
Arthur gave Xander a wide-eyed look. "Someone should ... " He didn't sound any more eager to stop her than anyone else.
"Arthur ... there is no way I am going to try to stop a red-head on a rampage. If you want to, go right ahead. Besides, she doesn't know where Dumbledore's at, and even if she finds out, she can't get to him." Xander said. And ok, the stopping a redhead on a rampage was a blatant lie, but he didn't feel like explaining that there was only one redhead he was willing to stop, and her name wasn't Molly Weasley. "Let her blow off some steam."
"The other bit of information I discovered is that apparently Voldemort has created one or more horcruxes. That, thankfully, isn't going to be much of a problem, I don't think." Xander continued.
"Nope, those things are going to be toast by dawn." Willow said. "Easy as pie."
And damnit, Snape was now giving Xander a very thoughtful look, like he was putting the pieces together. Damnit, the man was too smart for anyone's good! He shot Snape a quiet glare, and Snape had the audacity to smirk at him, like he found the glare amusing. Maybe getting him free of that Mark hadn't been the best idea after all. Naaaah. He was on their side, and that Mark had sucked.
The meeting broke up, and once they were out of the meeting room, Xander heard, rather faintly, Molly's outraged yelling. Still. She was apparently trying to find where Dumbledore'd been stashed so she could kill him, if the ranting was any indication. Xander snickered and glanced over at Willow. "Let's get this done, right? And Willow? Don't tell him ... or anyone else ... what that actually is, right?"
Willow nodded. "He'd freak. I know I would! And so would everyone else. I mean, some of them have some sense, but ... "
"Yeah, I hear you." Xander said.
They found Harry in Gryffindor Tower and herded him to the infirmary. Pomphrey set things up virtually identical to how she'd done for Snape, and Willow went to work.
Willow put her hand over the scar once Harry had laid down, and then caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she got to work. For a long while, she just sat there, and nothing apparently happened, at least as far as the observers were concerned. But from Willow's point of view, a lot was happening.
This was micro-work, easing the edges of the horcrux away from Harry's skull and skin a tiny fraction at a time, painfully slowly lest the thing react. Pain could be handled, and if that had been the sole problem, she'd have done much as she had with Snape, but this ... thing ... was right against Harry's brain, and if it lashed out, they'd have more problems than pain. So she was going slow and small, using the tiniest possible amounts of magic to accomplish her goal to keep the thing, and possibly Voldemort, given there seemed to be a connection between him and Harry, from realizing anything was wrong.
Finally, after nearly a solid half-hour of fussy work, she'd got it clear of Harry, cupped in the hand that had been covering his scar. It writhed there, a tiny ball of smoke, malevolence, and ill will. She pulled well away from Harry, said a brief chant ... and clenched her fist. There was a brief flash of light, and when she opened her fist, the horcrux was gone. Pomphrey swooped in, but this time, there was little she needed to do. Harry was wide awake, grinning like a loon, and apparently fine.
"Is that it? Is the creepy thing gone?" He asked.
"Yup." Xander said as he wrapped an arm around an exhausted Willow. "It's gone. And so's your scar, almost." Indeed, Harry's scar was now a thin white line that was faded almost to the point of invisibility. Harry reached a hand up to touch the scar, then grinned.
"Thanks Willow. I really appreciate it. It was kind of freaking me out a bit, knowing something was there. What was it?" Harry asked.
Well hell. "Just a really nasty knot from the blood ward problem." Xander lied. "I guess because that's where Voldemort aimed his spell, it served as a second focus for the ward issues."
"Oh. That makes sense. Glad it's gone then. Should I keep wearing this?" Harry lifted the edge of the crystal necklace he'd been wearing.
"Yeah, at least for another few days. Better safe than sorry, right?"
"Yeah, you've got a point, Xander." Harry agreed.