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Chapter Twenty Five – The Death Eaters

Thursday 15 August

Harry, Susan, Michelle and baby Lisa arrived back at their home in Folkestone before Amelia had returned from work. Susan and Michelle watched the infant while Harry looked at the stack of lesson plan forms. Taking a year level at a time, he listed the skills that he wanted each year to be able to perform, then broke them down into smaller segments, which would eventually become weekly lessons. He was grateful that he had some previous experience teaching from the DA group. He was also grateful that he was able to handle the practical aspects of the coursework and would have little to do with the homework assignments.

Amelia returned home at six and they sat down for dinner together. Susan was very animated as she related the day's events. "Professor McGonagall was awesome. She gave us four books to read and wrote out a timeline for the first term with topics. Thanks so much for including me. I can't wait to tell Hannah."

Amelia glanced at Harry, saw his look of concern and suggested, "Susan, maybe we should think through what other people are told about what you two are learning. The professors are volunteering their time to do the special training, much like Harry volunteered his time last year. Quite a few parents might be put out that their children aren't receiving the same opportunity.

Michelle put an end to thee conversation by observing, "I expect that Professor Flitwick would be willing to open the program up to anyone that was willing to face Voldemort attacking their home and living to tell about it. Seriously, I doubt that any parent or student will be disappointed by the lessons or instructors this year. There's no ghosts or Death Eaters on the teaching staff. Harry, let's look at the fourth year practical exercises after dinner."

… --- …

Thomas Felsenthal had made a successful career as a semi-legitimate investment broker. A thin pureblood wizard with longish grey hair, he joined the Death Eaters comparatively late in life, having retired from his everyday business straddling the fence between the magical and the non-magical worlds. Felsenthal may not have had the same reasons for joining Voldemort's followers as Malfoy or Lestrange; he found it to be a business opportunity rather than carrying some type of ideological or pathological vendetta against muggles. Felsenthal was surprised when he received the message from Rookwood effectively calling him up for active duty earlier that morning. He had always operated primarily in the capacity of money laundering and investing rather than operations.

Felsenthal was one of a handful of Voldemort's associates still living that had originally known Tom Riddle. Their first caper together was a rather ingenious case involving polyjuice potion. Riddle had marked the squib, who had been a client at Borgan and Burkes. As the squib hadn't trusted the Gringotts goblins to keep his papers and valuables safe, Felsenthal was tapped to effectively hold a premature estate sale with the two of them operating with a 70/30 split. Naturally Riddle worked the deal to his advantage, but each of the wizards had netted several million galleons for little more than a month of work.

Nearly fifty years had passed when Felsenthal read about Riddle's re-emergence. Thomas had yet to divide the proceeds of their last co-operative effort when Riddle had disappeared in the early eighties. Unlike many of the others, Felsenthal wasn't really surprised to have read the stories printed immediately after the Tri-wizard tournament regarding the alleged return of he who-must-not-be-named. Fortunately Felsenthal had taken the rumor seriously and had liquidated the funds that he'd been keeping for Riddle and had them ready for him, meeting his ravenous demands for funding in 1995.

Thus the seventy-year-old wizard found himself in the company of Rookwood and two other wizards outside the home of Dedalus Diggle at 10:30 pm. The four men walked the half-mile from the apparation point to Diggle's home.

Diggle had made a living in a similar fashion as Felsenthal, though officially in the capacity of a solicitor. Diggle's career track record may have been several shades lighter than Felsenthal's, but they were both shades of gray, cut from essentially the same cloth. The differences between the two wizards weren't so much in their methods as the clients who hired them.

This was the second raid that Felsenthal had made with the Death Eaters. The other had been over twenty years ago; effectively a loyalty test of some sort. That had been a similar raid with Voldemort, Rookwood and a young wizard who had just finished school, Barty Crouch Jr.

Thus as Harry and Michelle were discussing table arrangements for the students with Professor Flitwick, Felsenthal had been visited by Rookwood, who gave the message, "The Dark Lord has need of your services. Come with me."

Felsenthal knew that Rookwood's demand was non-negotiable and four hours later found himself in the outskirts of Crawley, not a mile away from the Grangers' home. He had been given the easy enough task of quietly casting the coloportus charm on the door and each of the windows on the back side of the home within a span of less than twenty seconds.

Diggle was in his study at 10:15 that evening reviewing papers for a minor contractual settlement when he heard a blast in the fireplace. There was no doubt in his mind what was happening. He reached into the desk drawer and grabbed the emergency portkey that Dumbledore had made for all of the Order members. In the five seconds that it took Diggle to remember the password, Rookwood had completed casting the anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards around the home. The old solicitor was disappointed, but not surprised that it failed to activate. Recognizing that he had a very limited window of opportunity to react, Diggle picked up his cell phone and pushed the buttons of the only emergency number that he had memorized – Amelia Bones.

Unfortunately, Bones was already on the phone taking a call from Anna Daily regarding an attack that had just taken place north of London. Diggle raced up the stairway of his home and cast a Reducto charm on one of the outer walls.

The charm blew a plate size hole through the lath and plaster wall and the sight that Diggle saw through the hole was sickening. He could see flames leaping up through the hole, and acrid smoke began rapidly pouring into the bedroom. Frantically, Diggle cast the charm again and again until the hole in the side of the home was large enough to leap through.

By then, the Mark had been cast and the four attackers had already vanished into the night.

Diggle was in a very bad situation and he knew it. He quickly cast the bubble head charm and considered his options. He couldn't apparate away, or use a portkey. He no longer owned a broom and the hole in the side of the house was nearly thirty feet off the ground. Taking a running start, he leapt through the hole through the searing flames.

… --- …

As Diggle was getting ready to exit his burning home, a similar situation had occurred thirty miles away. The Ministry forms clerk, Susan Florman who Harry had accused of being related to a flobberworm had been targeted. Unfortunately, the Ministry bureaucracy had never seen fit to provide emergency self-protection planning for the lower level employees. There was no form that could save the career administrator from a sealed, burning house.

Death Eater Randal Hardman led his team of new recruits away from the burning building. As the three men and their female accomplice turned their heads to watch their work, there was an explosion inside Florman's attached garage that collapsed the burning wreck of a home. Hardman laughed and handed the bottle of Ogdens to the young killer walking beside him. As the sound of the emergency sirens grew nearer, the four killers quietly apparated away in the growing darkness.

… --- …

Randi Estling-Bell returned to her girlfriend's home after a night out with the girls to find her friend's home in flames. Her old roommate Sandy Hill's car was parked in the driveway. Panic set in and she failed to notice those responsible slip away unnoticed to report back to Rookwood. Unable to breach the raging infernal and desperately hoping that her friend was still out with her boyfriend, Randi pulled her cell phone from her purse and called her boss. It hadn't occurred to her that she had been the target and her old roommate had died horribly in a tragic case of mistaken identity.

… --- …

Amelia was notified at 11 and again at 3AM. She had desperately hoped that the setbacks that the dark side had experienced lately would result in a quiet period. By breakfast time it had become apparent that the dark side was alive and well, and intent on evening the score a bit.

Connie Hammer and Anna Daily visited a total of eight crime scenes that evening. The similarities between the murders far outweighed the differences. It would take some time to find the connection between the victims, as some were Ministry Administrators, while others like Diggle and Sandy Hill didn't fit the pattern. Hammer had no way of knowing that Diggle had earned his spot on Rookwood's list due to his involvement in the Order and Randi previously rented house space from Hill.

Hours later as Hammer and Daily were finishing their paperwork they were surprised to receive a visit from an equally tired looking Amelia. As Connie handed Bones the reports and photos, Amelia accepted them and gave both investigators a heartfelt thanks, saying, "Well done both of you. Minister Scrimgeour is calling a short press conference in an hour that I'd like you both to attend, then please go home and get some sleep."

Anna nodded and asked, "Has there been any word from St. Mungo's regarding Mr. Diggle?

Amelia gave her a sad look and replied, "Yes. He's not expected to live the day. We need to brief Scrimgeour. We should go now."

… --- …

An hour and a half later, Scrimgeour was fielding the final few questions. Rita Skeeter from the Prophet asked, "Minister, since there were eight separate attacks that we've been told about that took place within… Skeeter glanced at her notes and finished saying, "five hours, how many Death Eaters do you think were involved?"

Scrimgeour had been expecting the question and wanted to put the best face on his reply. He glanced at the timeline that Daily had prepared and responded, "There is only confirmed evidence of two of the attacks overlapping, so there could have been as few as two small cells operating simultaneously; more likely there were three or four."

Skeeter accepted his answer and asked, "Minister as a follow-up question, do you think there was any relationship between last night's attacks and the reported destruction of the dementors from earlier in the week. Also was there any evidence that he who-must-not-be-named was present at any of the attacks?"

Scrimgeour glanced at Hammer and Amelia replied, "All evidence points to the conclusion that all of the dementors that previously resided within the U.K. have been eliminated. We have significant evidence that Voldemort was seriously wounded on the evening of Friday 9 August and hasn't been seen since, so to answer your question, we do not believe that he was present at any of the attacks last night. We do believe that Voldemort directed that the attacks take place and either personally selected the victims or approved the list.

Scrimgeour concluded the conference, saying, "No more questions at this time. Thank you for coming." He wanted to stick to the facts. Death Eater attacks were certainly tragic for the victims, but did not cause the widespread panic of a Voldemort sighting or rogue dementor attacks. The last few months had certainly proven that the ordinary Death Eaters could be fought, ambushed, captured and sent through the veil. He was all but certain that they would be eliminated before the bounty money pool or the public's patience would run out.

As she was leaving, Skeeter pondered Scrimgeour's seemingly offhand response to her questions. No evidence… we do not believe… points to the conclusion. She was reminded of the old adage, "dead men tell no tales." Scrimgeour had presented physical evidence of the dementors demise, where-as snapping a wand that was said to have belonged to he who-must-not-be-named did not present the same degree of assurance. Rita was fairly certain that the evil monster would still be deadly even if he were casting spells with a toothpick! It was obvious that he had personally planned the raids, even if he hadn't led them himself. While she wanted to be optimistic, the fact remained that the Death Eaters successfully carried out eight of eight separate murders last night with no losses on their side.

… --- …

The pattern of the murders that Hammer and Daily failed to see was not lost on the career administrators. The normally quite employee cafeteria was a veritable beehive of speculation and debate. While last night's attacks had focused on the low level employees, the supervisors had no reason to feel secure, resulting in very little real work getting done.

Similar speculation was happening at the castle. McGonagall was quietly discussing the attack with Tonks and Lupin. Minerva shut off the WWW that had carried the morning press conference live. She pondered the difference between last night's attacks and the one on her favorite transfiguration student.

Just then Moody walked in and announced, "Diggle died a few minutes ago."

Remus pondered the incident as he knew it for a moment and observed, "I wonder why he didn't use his portkey to get away?"

Moody replied, "I looked the area over. There was evidence of an anti-apparation ward."

Tonks remarked, "They must have figured some way of getting anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards up fairly quickly and quietly.

Remus speculated, "They must be getting some help from somewhere."

Moody replied, "Old Rookwood probably gave them lessons. They're not that hard to set up if you only need them to last a few minutes.

… --- …

That afternoon, Amelia held a meeting with the evening shift of the Auror team. Like the morning meeting, the facts of the cases were presented. After they were had been going a while, an idea came to Anna. She stood and blurted out, "They did the same thing at the Granger residence on Friday, except…" she checked her notes for a moment and continued, "Hermione noticed them and blew their back door off, giving them a way out."

"Or in," added Connie, playing off her partner's observation.

"True," blurted Tonks, "But Hermione was probably targeted by Voldemort himself. The Death Eaters that were out Friday were all experienced killers. He can't have hundreds of them laying about waiting for a call-up."

"Practical Exams," nodded Amelia. "They seal the residence and torch it. They can't wait around unless it's a remote location. They're not going after locations that are likely to be properly defended."

Mikelson and Paulson were having an ongoing conversation in the back row. Amelia gave them an annoyed look and inquired, "Do you have something useful to add Cadet Mikleson?" The overlarge somewhat awkward cadet looked down and shook his head.

His friend Paulson gathered up his courage and blurted, "Director, Ma'am, Mikleson was just suggesting that a cadet or two stay at homes of the different administrators for a few nights on a sort of protective detail or ambush. I was telling him that there are too many admin grade ones and twos to cover everyone. Sorry for the interruption, Ma'am."

Anna sorted through her logbooks for a moment, gave Bones a meaningful look and nodded. She looked again and said, "Most of the most recent attacks fit except for… Mr. Dedulus Diggle and… Sandy Hill."

"Diggle was friends with the Professor," suggested Tonks alluding to old Order."

"Sandy and I were roommates," said Randi. "I used to live there before I got married."

"January," recalled Connie. "You would have been listed there in last year's employee directory. The Death Eaters must have a copy."

… --- …

The afternoon edition of the Daily Prophet carried the headline Death Eaters murder eight. Ministry fails to react. Scrimgeour was pleased with the news that Amelia had delivered when she met with him at five that afternoon. The reality was that they could set up a half-dozen ambushes, or they could inform the too hundred or so administrators that there was evidence that they were specifically being targeted. Given the very short time that the Death Eaters were on site, he knew that Amelia had nowhere near the manpower to station an Auror at every grade one's flat and agreed with Amelia's plan to stage a half dozen ambushes

… --- …

Rookwood was pleased to learn that each of the teams had completed their missions without suffering any losses. He had traveled to Riddle's home in Blackpool several times in the last few days to report in to his master, but the Dark Lord hadn't been there any of the times. He would simply keep operating as he had been directed, varying his targets and check in several times a week.

… --- …

Back at Blackpool, the lanky readhead sat with his back against the brick wall of his room. Unable to smell his own stench anymore he silently pondered his fate. He had no way of knowing that at that moment his best friend was relaxing on a floatie touching fingers with his girlfriend.

… --- …

"Mr. Crow, I have something for you." McGonagall stood and locked the door to her classroom. You have made a career here by generally providing rapid updates and controversial endings." She gave him a sharp look and began taking objects out of a wooden crate that she kept beside her desk. First she carefully picked up a Sperry made handgun and set it on her desk. Next she carefully placed a five-foot bloodstaff on her desk. She pulled a polished 50 caliber match round out of her crate and placed it on the desktop. Finally, she pulled a jeweled long sword out of the crate, unsheathed it and gently set it on the desk.

The old scribe looked at each of the objects, fondly reminiscing about the fun that he'd had with them. He looked into the crate and also saw a miniature fuel truck, a set of Mizuno irons, and several shrunken gray BMWs, but failed to understand the old crone's point.

With suddenness that he didn't believe possible, she rapped her wooden walking stick on the chair beside him and shouted, "You have provided us with no bona fides in this story, Mr. Crow; no proof, no smoking-gun, no head-on-a-platter. People enjoy certainty, tidy endings, and closure, Mr. Crow. It appears that you have intentionally denied them with a proper clim.. er, ending to your story."

She picked up a carefully written card that read Portkey 7137 Witowsmp.

Thinking about his nearly frozen steel horse, the old scribe realized that he had a few chapters remaining and should get back to work.

As he left he hummed the refrain from an old song, You can't always get what you want and closed the door behind him.

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