(11/30/2012) I suppose since I haven't done a disclaimer in a while (oops ) I should remind everyone that Harry Potter still doesn't belong to me …

Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

# # # Chapter 25 # # #

"Well, I think that about settles it." Violet said, as she began to roll the map up. "It's not perfect, but … I suspect it's about as good as we're going to get."

Snape, who'd quickly taken on the role of primary strategist, nodded his agreement. He slanted a glance at Petunia – or, more accurately, at Harry. "I apologize for excluding you from the plans, but I really think it's best you stay here. In a non-magical host …"

Petunia looked briefly irritated at being referred to so blatantly as a 'host', but let it pass. "We agree." She said with a sigh. "We both want to be there, obviously – but without a way to protect ourselves, we'd just get in the way."

Snape leaned forward in his chair. "And you're sure you can't think of anything else that might be of use to us?"

Petunia shook her head. "Harry's told you – well, told me, I guess – everything he can think of. So theoretically, there's no real reason we need to be there."

Violet's elbow swung out a bit wide as she shoved the map across the table, bumping against her wand and sending it skittering across the table to fall off the edge. Petunia, sitting at that corner of the table, leaned over to pick it up. "Here you –" she paused, expression suddenly arrested, posture still half bent over.

"Um." Violet said hesitantly. "Petunia? Thanks, but I'd actually like my wand back …"

She shook her head. "Right. Sorry." There was something a bit off about her intonations – a slightly clipped feel to the words that hadn't been there before – as she straightened and gave the wand a considering look. "I wonder …" She switched the wand to a proper grip in her right hand. "Lumos."

"Hey!" Violet said, understandably irritated by the sudden appropriation of her wand. "What are you – whoa."

Everyone around the table fell still, staring at the wand in Petunia's hand – or, to be more accurate, at its gently glowing tip.

"Huh, this one's actually fairly well suited to me." Petunia said in a considering tone, then looked up into everyone's stares. "Oh. Sorry. This is Harry in control now. Apparently we switch when she touches a wand?" She grinned, shark-like, as she looked at Snape. "And apparently I still have my magic, even though Petunia herself doesn't have any. So? Does that mean we get to go after all?"

Snape shook his head, half-smiling. "Only you, Harry … and yes, I suppose it does."

"Does Petunia mind?" Edwin asked, bristling slightly. "I don't want her put in danger if she's not okay with it. Especially if she's going to be out of control of her body for the duration."

The girl in question – well, her body at least – adopted a faraway look for a moment, before returning her attention to Edwin. "She says she's fine with it. … When it comes down to it, she didn't really want to be left behind either."

Edwin calmed. "Well then … OK. As long as she's fine with it."

Snape reached into his pocket and drew out a long, thin object that he tossed to Harry. "There you go – I suspect Rosier wants hers back."

Harry caught it, his eyes lighting up when he got his first good look at it. "Oh wow, my wand!" He absently rolled the other wand towards Violet, who snatched it back up, but most of his attention was on the yew wand that he had acquired … it seemed like forever ago. He looked up at Snape "… Not that I don't appreciate it, but why on Earth were you carrying it with you?"

The older Slytherin shrugged, smirking slightly. "I just had a feeling it might come in handy."

"All right then." Harry stood abruptly. "From what I saw, it looked like we were pretty much done. Is everyone ready to get this show on the road?"

The four members of Petunia's crew – Sarah had, after much loud and at times obscene protest, been sent off to find one of the few remaining teachers and attempt to enlist their aid in sending additional support in case the rescue mission turned out to need a rescue mission of their own – looked a bit uncertain at this change. But between the fact that Petunia had already been their de facto leader (if a rather different Petunia than this) and that the two other seventh-years seemed content to let Harry take the lead … they shrugged and went with it.

At least until shortly before the library doors, when Violet stopped short and groaned.

The rest of the group stopped and turned back to her. "What?" Harry asked.

Violet shook her head, a mocking smile rising to her lips. "Oh, nothing. It just occurred to me that, my previous remarks aside, I am about to be led into magical battle – or someplace with the potential to turn into one, at least – by a Muggle after all."

# # # # #

:So you tap a random statue and say a random password, and a passageway out of the castle magically opens?: Petunia asked, skeptically. :You wizards are so weird. Haven't you ever heard of doors?:

From the doubtful looks on several of the others' faces, she was not the only one with those concerns. However, they seemed at least somewhat mollified by the fact that both Peter and Harry claimed that it was true. :It's not random – it's a very specific statue and a very specific password.: Harry said, mildly exasperated, as they made their way up to the third floor. :… But yes. Wizards can be rather weird at times, much as I hate to admit it.:

When they reached the appropriate location, Harry hung back and allowed Peter to be the one to tap the statue of the one-eyed witch. "Dissen—"

The secret passageway opened.

"You don't even need the full password?" Edwin asked doubtfuly. "That makes even less –"

Then their group got their first good look at what was on the other side of the statue. And James, Sirius, and Remus got a good look at them.

"What are you doing here?"

# # # # #

"He will see you now."

William – and from the corner of his vision, it looked like the Malfoy boy, too – looked up at the black-robed man who had just entered through their door and made his announcement. Tom, for his part, immediately abandoned his attempt to challenge himself at a game of chess – it wasn't going well; he found it terribly offensive that even if he was winning, that also meant that he was losing, and he hated to lose – to turn his full attention to the view window as well.

And cursed silently as the meaning of the man's words sunk in. Being taken to see him already? I had hoped we had at least one more day. Well, now we're almost certainly screwed – if Harry isn't here yet, I sincerely doubt that he'll be here in time to do any good now.

His mind rapidly flitted through the possible options – of which there weren't many.

The Malfoy boy stood – pale but not otherwise showing his fear; it was a pity about his apparent loyalties since from what Tom had seen he was tentatively impressed. "We understand. Could you give us a moment to prepare? We wouldn't want to be unpresentable in front of Him."

The black-robed man looked a bit irritated, but apparently couldn't be bothered to press the issue; he simply nodded and left the room – leaving the door cracked open just enough for William (and thus Tom) to see that he had taken up position outside. No hope of escape there … not that I was really expecting any.

The Malfoy boy came over to William and leaned in – not uncomfortably close (at least not to William, apparently, given that he showed no signs of leaning away, though Tom was beginning to feel a bit claustrophobic), but nearly so. "You should probably at least take off your Gryffindor robe." He said quietly, gesturing to his own non-school-robe-clad form. "They've got spare robes hanging in the closet, Merlin knows why." He ruffled William's hair – a truly appalling shade of red, from what Tom recalled. "No one will forget that you're a Weasley, not with your hair … but we can at least not rub their faces in it. Maybe that will help."

Tom eyed the Malfoy boy with respect. (Though really, could he please back off?) That was … not a bad idea, actually. Albeit one he could think of a minor improvement to – but then, the boy was only a third year, and Tom was Lord Voldemort, after all. "YOU SHOULD HIDE YOUR ROBE SOMEWHERE." He shouted. "SO THAT IF SOMEONE DOES COME FOR US THEY'LL SEE IT AND KNOW THAT WE WERE HERE." A more optimistic person might have said 'when', but that had never been one of Tom's faults. At least not when it came to depending on other people.

The Malfoy boy moved away, and William's vision momentarily went black as he pulled his Gryffindor robe over his head and off. He balled it up and tossed it under the Malfoy's bed; Tom sighed but let it go. I suppose that's better than folding it nicely and putting it out where anyone can see.

William caught the robe the Malfoy boy tossed his way and shrugged it on, then reached up and did … something to his hair. Patting it down, perhaps, though from what Tom had seen, it was likely a lost cause. (Though not quite as much of a lost cause as Harry's hair – which Tom would not have believed if he hadn't seen.)

The two boys looked at each other. William took a deep breath – deep and loud enough that Tom could hear it. The Malfoy boy half-smiled. "Ready?"

William nodded. "Ready."

Tom smirked to cover his own nervousness. Ready. Let's see whether my older self has lived up to my plans for the future or not after all – because so far, I'm not terribly impressed.

# # # # #

"Count me in." James and Sirius said instantly, as soon as the situation had been explained to them. "Even having to work with Snape couldn't keep me from coming." Sirius added, with a virulent glare in said Slytherin's direction. "What were you doing with him, anyway, Wormtail?"

"Is that really important right now?" Peter asked, exasperated. "We're … something. Friends I guess." As both of them opened their mouths, outrage clear on their faces, he cut them off. "Not. Important. You can give me the third degree or ream me out or whatever later." He turned his attention to Remus, who had been watching Petunia with an intense and somewhat conflicted look. "What about you, Moony?"

Remus blinked, startled. "Oh. I'm coming, of course."

Snape muttered something uncomplimentary about Gryffindors and their ability to follow plans that had been rather carefully laid out, thank you very much, and were already likely to be problematic, which caused James and Sirius to, of course, take offense. While Peter was doing his best to peacemake – at least to the point where they'd be willing to work together – Remus sidled over to Petunia and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Harry, um. We should probably talk more later." His look around encompassed all the other people that he was not particularly interested in hearing this conversation – old friends and strangers alike. "But I just wanted to say – I'm sorry. For what I said before."

Harry half-smiled back. "I'm sorry too. For what I said, for not trusting you … for running away." He held out a hand – his left, since his right still clutched his wand like a lifeline. "Friends? And yes, I'd like to talk more later, too." If I get the chance.

Remus took his hand almost as soon as he had finished extending it, clearly not minding the awkwardness of it being their off-hands. "Of course. Forever."

A large weight fell away from Harry – it surprised him, how relieved he was. And how easy it had been. We'll have to talk later, at length. I guess that'll be the hard part. For now …

With a grin just for Remus that transmuted into a proud smile for their entire group – bickering James, Sirius, and Snape included – Harry turned to face forward, towards the dark passageway they'd soon be passing through.

For now, we fight.

# # # # #

The first part of the plan went off without a hitch – though the innkeeper looked more than a bit disturbed when the ten of them all came tumbling out of her fireplace in rapid succession. "Sorry for the mess, Mrs. Dodderidge." Violet called, as they brushed themselves off. "And for the crowd. I thought I'd come home and say hi to the parents after all – and brought some friends who mentioned they were interested in seeing our gardens."

"Oh, it's so good to see that you've made some friends, Violet dear." The older woman said with a smile. "And fellow flower-lovers, too! I know how fond you are of those gardens …"

The rest of them attempted to look like the sorts of people who would be interested in a conversation about flowers. Some, like James, pulled it off rather well. Others, like Snape …

Well. It was a good thing that the innkeeper was mostly concentrating her attention on Violet.

She made a shooing gesture. "Well, go on now – you'll want to get there while there's still plenty of light, won't you?" A pause. "Although really, it would have been far more convenient for you to just Floo home directly, wouldn't it?"

Violet smiled – broadly, but with a sly tilt to it. "But then I wouldn't have been able to introduce my friends to your wonderful cookies! I've told them that they're more than worth the extra mile walk, so do please tell me that you have a fresh batch available?"

"Oh, you." The woman blushed. "As it happens, I just pulled a batch out of the oven, so I have more than enough to go around."

Several minutes later, safely extracted from the inn, everyone with a cookie in hand (except Elle, who begged off due to apparently being in the middle of a diet that, according to Ronnie, she absolutely did not need; and Snape, whose dignity apparently would not support being seen in public eating a chocolate chip cookie, no matter how delicious they looked), they strolled down the street of the small village. Violet occasionally pointed out landmarks of note, acting for all the world like they were in truth what she had claimed they were at the inn – just a group of friends sight-seeing in the area around Violet's home.

"Gardens?" James enquired skeptically. "And she bought that?"

Violet shrugged, clearly unconcerned with the opinion of a mere Gryffindor. "They are quite beautiful and extensive. And I am quite fond of them. Bringing nine other people to look at them at once is stretching things a bit, but Mrs. Dodderidge likes me well enough to overlook those minor inconsistencies."

"And dislikes your father enough to not report our movements directly to him?" Snape asked, with an eye towards the village as a whole. A few people were out – not as many as he would have expected, but it was a very small village.

Violet smiled sweetly up at her fellow Slytherin. "It never hurts to have an escape route or two." She gestured towards the right, where a dirt road stretched up over a hill and disappeared. "We'll be heading that way next."

They walked along in silence for a while, everyone keeping an eye towards their feet – the road was reasonably well maintained, but there was still the occasional pothole and even more occasional manure of some unknown variety to avoid. Finally, Remus said hesitantly, "I can understand waltzing into and out of town – it seems relatively safe and attracted less attention than sneaking around probably would have. But are we really going to waltz into the manor itself? That seems to just be asking for trouble …"

"That's right, you haven't heard more than the bare bones of the plan yet." Edwin said. "We won't be waltzing in, precisely. Once we're out of sight of town we'll be Disillusioning ourselves to reduce the risk of discovery, and then Violet knows a back way into the manor that we hope will be less well guarded."

"Hope?" Remus asked.

"I left pretty as soon after they arrived as I could and still have confirmed what I needed to." Harry said. "So I'm afraid aside from seeing Goyle Sr. at the back gate, I didn't get a chance to confirm anything useful like number or placement of guards."

"Ah. Right." He went quiet, then cast a significant look at James and Sirius, primarily the former. Severus noticed the look but, not knowing what it might possibly be about, held his peace and watched for further clues; Harry thought he had a good idea what it might be about and perked up, also watching more closely.

James caught Remus' look, looked briefly conflicted, cast a pointed glance at Snape, then looked back at Remus. Remus raised an eyebrow, but continued looking steadily at James.

Finally, James folded. "I can do you one better than that." He finally said, reluctantly, and reached into his pocket. "It only fits one person, though."

What he pulled out was shimmering folds of … something that wavered at the edges of sight, almost visible in motion but completely impossible to see otherwise. Snape threw up his hands. "Of course he would have an Invisibility Cloak."

"Who should wear it?" Ronnie asked.

Gazes all turned towards Petunia, even as James drew the cloak closer to himself, as though protecting it from some unspecified person he thought might attempt to steal it. Harry shrugged. "No one of us is any more critical to this mission than any other. Unless anyone else has a strong opinion, since it's James' cloak we should probably let him keep it." Even if it pained Harry to say that, given his own strong desire to hold the cloak – his father's keepsake, and the strength of that feeling hadn't really faded even though it was his father, here and now, alive, who held it.

James nodded, then hesitated. "I don't know that I'd know the Malfoy kid on sight. I remember Bill – smart kid, I've helped him with Transfiguration homework a time or two."

Harry half-smiled. "I suspect where you find one, you'll find the other. Especially in this situation – if they aren't together, I suspect it's only because they've been forced apart." He waved a hand. "Besides, he looks like a Malfoy – I had no idea who he was the first time I met him, and even I figured out that much."

James nodded. "Got it." Then he swirled the cloak around himself and mostly disappeared, though he left the hood down so his head was still visible – seemingly floating about five and a half feet off the ground.

Snape shuddered and turned away. "Don't go haring off on your own." He said, clearly aiming his command towards James even though he continued to face forward. "I will not be responsible for rescuing you if you do."

James looked like he was considering sticking his tongue out. "I wouldn't want to be rescued by you anyway."

"Children." Peter spoke up in a long-suffering tone. "Can we please stop bickering?"

They crested the hill at last, and found themselves looking down into a valley, and nestled into the valley was a large sprawling manor – their target. Just past the crest – once they were sure they could no longer be seen from the village – the group paused long enough for everyone (except James) to put the Disillusionment Charm on themselves, and for James to raise his hood, before continuing onwards. At a somewhat slower pace, after the third time that someone tripped over something because their foot didn't land where they thought it was going to.

"Ugh. Amateurs." Violet said, with all the authority of being two years younger than everyone else (at least physically). "There's no point to being Disillusioned if you yelp every time you run into something."

"Pot. Kettle." Elle said cheerfully. Ronnie shushed them both.

The rest of the trek passed in relative silence – Edwin pulled James, Sirius, and Remus off to the side and brought them up to speed in a low tone on the parts of the plan that had been glossed over before, though that didn't take very long since the plan, such as it was, was remarkably simple:

Find Bill and Claudius, get out, and incapacitate anyone who tried to get in the way of one or both of those goals.

As they neared the manor, the seventh years all shivered almost simultaneously. "What just happened?" Harry asked in a low voice in the direction he'd last seen Peter.

Snape replied. "We just passed through the border of an Anti-Apparition ward. Which is … unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. We'll just have to be even more careful about getting in and out without disturbing too many people."

Here's hoping it will be that easy.

:I hope so too.: Petunia said – even her mental voice was hushed in response to the subdued atmosphere of the extraction team, regardless of the fact that no one could actually hear it.

Harry frowned and tried to shore up his mental walls. He hadn't been paying a lot of attention, but he'd meant that to be a private thought – and normally it took a conscious effort from him to project his thoughts before the other person in his head could hear them. He'd gotten too used to the fact that though he could pick up on the others' stray thoughts pretty well a most of the time, his own seemed to be typically pretty well protected.

Maybe that's where I get it from. He thought – this time carefully privately … probably – then snorted. Yeah right.

They reached the outer wall of the manor, and Violet's voice drifted back across the rest of the group. "Here we are. Now don't forget – quietly." Several tapping sounds – light enough that they were almost made inaudible by the sound of the breeze rustling through the grass and nearby trees – indicated that she was most likely tapping on bricks, though Harry couldn't see her wand well enough to have any real idea which ones. Then, with remarkably quiet scraping noises, the wall peeled away – a less flashy version of the entrance to Diagon Alley – and the group stepped into darkness and a feeling of closeness likely due to the rows of shelves that loomed to either side.

"Everyone in?" She asked, even more quietly. When after a moment, no one protested, she took that to mean 'good enough' and made another set of motions – this one even more impossible to see given that she was standing off to the side of the door and would likely have been hidden by the darkness even if she hadn't been Disillusioned – and the hidden door slid its way shut again, plunging them all into near complete darkness.

There was some shuffling and jostling, as people started moving forward, but quickly found that moving in such a tight space wasn't nearly as easy as they thought – particularly when they could see neither each other, nor the obstacles they were trying to avoid.

"Lumos." Sirius said, and the area lit up with the light from his wand.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" Severus hissed. "Put that out!"

"Bite me, Snivellus."

"Oh for the love of – Nox." Peter's voice interrupted. "Now will you please stop bitching and start moving?"

"Quiet." Several other voices hissed.

"Sorry." Peter whispered.

Somehow, despite all the jostling, occasional noises of discontent at having been jostled, and at least one instance in which someone (no one was willing to admit to who) had bumped into a shelf and knocked something off, they managed to make it through the storeroom only slightly the worse for the wear, and without having encountered any of Voldemort's men.

"I thought they might have forgotten about this route." Violet said quietly, satisfied, as they reached the door. "Either that or they don't have many people here at all – and either way works well for our purposes."

Then she opened the door onto the back of some random Death Eater, yelped, jumped to the side, and as the man turned, he found himself struck in the face with three well-aimed Stupefys and an Incarcerous.

With yet more jostling – this being disillusioned was turning out to be almost more trouble than it was worth, as far as Harry could see – they managed to pull the Death Eater back into the storeroom and propped him in a corner behind several shelves. Once Violet had once again gotten confirmation-through-silence that everyone was out of the storeroom, she closed the door and locked it.

"Isn't that our escape route?" Sirius asked.

Harry, unfortunately, had to settle for imagining the disgusted glare Violet had almost certainly shot him. He still got to hear the disdain dripping from her quiet voice. "You are a wizard, aren't you? Just unlock it again. It's not like I used anything complicated."

Harry was beginning to wonder if bringing the Marauders along had been more trouble than it was worth, too.

Once out into the main corridors of the mansion, though, the way got easier – the corridors were wider, better lit, and far less populated by objects that could be inadvertently knocked over. They encountered several other Death Eaters apparently just idly wandering the halls, always in ones (or, in just one instance, twos), which allowed the combination of their Disillusionment, the element of surprise, and their sheer weight of numbers to prevail with little fighting back, no injuries, and so far no sign of broader alarm.

This feels too easy.

There had been a slightly dicey moment when a stray stunning spell hit Elle, but after someone – Edwin, Harry thought, by the sound of his voice – had tripped over her, they'd managed to get her revived and had been able to start moving again.

They'd started their search upstairs, in the west wing of the manor – both because that had been the closest to the storeroom, and because according to Violet, it held the largest number of guest rooms. They all hoped that that meant that behind one of these doors would be sitting Bill and Claudius, bored but unharmed, and then they'd be able to leave the way they came with no one the wiser.

Life didn't appear prepared to be that easy on them, though – every guest room they checked was empty. Except one that contained three Death Eaters playing cards – that had been another hairy moment. At the far end of the hall was one with two beds that had obviously been used – one bed had been made in somewhat haphazard fashion, the other left completely unmade.

They'd searched that room particularly closely, but hadn't seen anything that they thought was a clear sign that this was the room that their targets had been staying in. At least, not until Harry himself found a rolled up wad of black cloth under one of the beds that, upon straightening, turned out to be a now terribly wrinkled Gryffindor robe. He'd held it up so that the others could see, feeling strange about the fact that it probably looked like the robe was hanging in mid-air from slightly wavery nothingness. "I doubt there are any other Gryffindors around here."

"Great!" That, he thought, was also Edwin.

"… Now what?" Violet asked. "We could wait. If they're just having tea or something, they might be back soon."

The elation that had so briefly filled the room drained away again. Certainly it was possible, but …

"… Or if we wait, they may not return at all." Harry quietly said what everyone else was thinking, as his fists clenched, further wrinkling the cloth. He let go with his wand hand, whipped the robe around his other arm several times in a poor man's attempt at rolling it back up, and then threw it at the wall with a bit more force than was entirely required. "We continue on until we actually find them. Or at least, that's what I'm planning on doing."

A brief silence. Then Peter said. "I don't think any of us wants to turn around and leave now – or just sit here and hope for the best either. We're with you." Noises of agreement followed his statement – Harry didn't count to see if everyone had done so, but certainly no one was actively protesting.

He smiled, and was briefly sorry that his Disillusionment meant that no one else could see it. "… Thanks guys."

They finished looking through the second floor of the west wing – just on the off chance – in fairly short order, only taking the most cursory of glances at the rooms, infected by a sense of urgency brought on by the lack of the two third-years in the room that was, most likely, theirs. The first floor got an even more cursory inspection, particularly after two rooms in a row ended up opening into gatherings of Death Eaters taking breaks. They somehow managed to maintain their streak of stunning all people involved before they could raise the alarm properly, but it was a very near thing.

As they approached the main hallway – a broad open area that looked like it possessed some lovely architecture and a very nice use of natural light that Harry wished he had the time to appreciate properly – Harry's eyes were drawn naturally to a broad staircase that gradually sloped upwards towards a very ornate, and very large set of double doors. Doors that were guarded by no less than five Death Eaters, in varying states of awareness of their surroundings. One of whom was actually peering suspiciously in their direction, probably having caught some slightly odd turn of the light, or perhaps the scuffing of someone's shoe that had carried louder and farther than expected in this broad hall. Only a matter of time before we're discovered at this rate.

James appeared to share his opinion – except he had apparently added 'that's likely our goal' to 'almost certain discovery' and come up with 'screw all this sneaking around, I'm a Gryffindor!'

To his credit, he did shoot off several stunning charms – one of which actually hit, even from this distance – before he let off a whoop and – from the sound of running feet – dashed towards the stairs and the other four Death Eaters.

Sirius called "Wait for me!" and dashed after him, taking off his Disillusionment Charm as he went – when actually moving around rapidly, the background changed too quickly for the charm to keep up, so it really didn't end up being all that useful.

There was a sigh that sounded like Remus, and two more sets of running feet – the other two Marauders off to rescue their more hot-headed compatriots, most likely. They left their charms up – though it didn't turn out to be that useful, since the first thing one of the Death Eaters did was shoot the counter-spell at them, apparently preferring to see who he was (theoretically) about to kill.

"Gryffindors." Snape said, in tones of deepest disgust. "Well, that's torn it. I suppose we might as well go play, too."

The rest of the group proceeded at a somewhat slower pace – though still faster than the rate at which they'd been going so far – and arrived near the top of the stairs just in time for someone (Harry honestly had no clue who, except that it had been a spell he didn't recognize so it was probably one of the seventh-years) to take out one of the last two remaining Death Eaters just as he was about to aim what was almost certainly a nasty curse of some sort at Sirius' back.

"I hope you're happy now." Snape said, still Disillusioned but using his normal volume – there seemed to be no point in whispering given the racket the just-finished fight had created. "At least it doesn't look like you managed to injure yourselves too badly." Sirius had a slice along his upper left arm – not his wand arm, thankfully – that looked painful but not debilitating, and Peter appeared to be limping, but otherwise the four of them appeared to have represented themselves quite well given that they'd been up against five adult dark wizards.

"Yeah, we're OK." Peter said easily, blithely accepting the concern and ignoring the tone. He looked towards the door. "So. I guess …?"

Harry stepped forward. No point in worrying about it now. He pushed the door open.

The first thing he noticed were the backs of two heads, considerably shorter than the rest – one blond, one red – towards the center of the room, and also the center of the other gathered people. All right, they're here. Now we just need to extract them from –

The rather large number of other gathered people, all of whom appeared to be wearing the black robes that Harry had come to view as typical Death Eater attire. And many of whom had not been lost enough in whatever had been going on to fail to notice the doors opening. Harry prepared to duck away, as he suspected he had mere moments before someone either attempted to dispel his disillusionment charm … or just went straight for something more lethal. – That might be somewhat problematic.

And lastly, he noticed what he should probably have noticed first – just who sat in the chair at the front of the room, like a king presiding over his subjects.

… Shit.

25 November 2012