Chickens under Attack
"The child?"
"I haven't been able to track her down, my Lord," Severus replied.
The Dark Lord's nostrils flared beneath his heavy, black hooded cloak. Severus felt as though the walls of the headmaster's office were enclosing on him.
"I have word that Lily Potter and the children have suddenly moved from Headquarters—vanished. No one knows their location, even their father."
"How did you find out?" Dumbledore was very right about the spy. Fortunately for Severus, Lily and her family had moved just in time.
"I have been lucky, very lucky," the Dark Lord said.
"I will track their movements my Lord, perhaps they've left clues..."
"Yes you will, Severus and this time you will succeed," he threatened. The Dark Lord opened the door and motioned for him to walk through first. "I have a request."
"Of course, my Lord." He bowed lightly, his heart drumming in his ears.
"Revive Sybil Trelawney for me. I am not done with her yet."
There was a flurry in Dumbledore's kitchen and a disgusting smell emanating from a cauldron. "Albus, I came to speak with you about Sy—"
"Quick, help me with this potion." There was a twirl of robes and a blur of Dumbledore's white beard flying behind him. "We can not afford to waste it. It has become difficult sourcing the ingredients now with the crackdown on the black market."
Severus sniffed the Polyjuice potion bubbling away on the stove. It was boiling vigorously and it was endanger of turning grey, which would be disastrous. The resultant muck would burn the insides of the wizard stupid enough to drink it. The Order was running low on the potion, but this time Severus didn't have the time to make a new batch.
"I suggest you add a sprinkle of rosemary to calm the mixture."
"Rosemary?" Dumbledore questioned with surprise, as he wafted the acrid steam away from his face. "That's rather unconventional."
"It will work. But do it quickly." Severus pointing to several bunches of different dried herbs hanging above them. "Dried will work fine, and stir counter-clockwise five times, slowly."
Dumbledore nimbly picked a few sprigs of rosemary before stirring them in. A brilliant flash of green sparks flew out of the cauldron, and they watched the mixture calm down, turning a thick, dark green once more. Judging by the colour, it would be another week before the potion would be ready.
Dumbledore relaxed. "I'm not as proficient as you in Potions. And to see it fail would put us back months."
"Hence the reason I am the Potions Master." Severus crossed his arms, and paced the kitchen. "Albus I came—"
"Is the boy progressing?' Dumbledore interrupted, adjusting the temperature of the stove before moving away.
"Terribly."
"You injured him four days ago."
"It is not my fault he's useless."
"Must you be so firm?" Dumbledore criticised. "It's not a battle."
"I'm preparing him for what's to come, like you told me to," Severus replied without remorse. "For the last two lessons we didn't use spells. I moved the training into Lupin's yard, wanting to strengthen his reflexes—get him strong again, test his power. Physically, he is very frail."
The old wizard nodded. "His magic?"
"Good, but he needs to control his ability first which may take awhile, considering that the only other Mage available to learn from, is an arrogant, dangerous, self entitled twit."
"There is a meditation technique Tibetan wizards use before using a strong spell. It helps them to control their magic and increase the potency of it. You may want to try it out. It may help Harry focus more."
"The same one you used while you were recovering from your defeat?"
Dumbledore nodded. "It helps." He opened a tin of gingersnaps and shook the tin at Severus to help himself. "These are fresh from Minerva's Kitchen. It is a new recipe of hers."
"Since Hogwarts closed, why are we so focused on cooking?" he questioned, sniffing a biscuit.
Dumbledore chuckled. "I guess it is our way of adding a little light to the darkness."
When he thought of the other faculty members, like Minerva baking, or Filius's cakes and that ridiculous pink floral apron he wears on occasion, or even Hagrid's awful food, Severus could only cook to avoid starving to death. He would rather use his skills to brew potions.
"Anything else about the boy you'd like to discuss?"
Finishing the biscuit in haste, which was marginally better than Minerva's other recipe's he said, "This bizarre vision the boy had about the Dark Lord—"
"Is not our concern."
"How so? Is the boy a seer? It seems that that lightning bolt scar pains him. I asked him about it today—he's had visions in his own world, but he was hesitant to speak about it."
"Harry has a unique connection with Lord Voldemort. However, this problem stemmed from his world and it isn't a problem you should meddle in."
"Still, it's interesting that he has this connection. Do you have any idea what caused it?"
"Vaguely," he responded, though he did not elaborate. "You know Severus, sometimes, you give me the impression you like the Mirror Potter."
"Your impression is sadly mistaken. I am merely gathering the facts about this odd curiosity. It's not everyday someone travels Mirror Universes." Now Severus really wanted to discuss more pressing issues. "Now, I need to talk to you about Sybil," he stated darkly.
Dumbledore sat down at his table, looking up. "We had a meeting about her today, with a few select members. You know my fears about the spy—"
"There is a spy. The Dark Lord confirmed it. Someone told him that Lily and the children had fled the Order."
Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Excellent. And hopefully we will know who it is in days."
"Good."
"Now, we will try to infiltrate Hogwarts tomorrow night to rescue Sybil. Hogsmeade is untouchable, so we will need to tiptoe around it. It has become more decrepit and debauched than Knockturn Alley."
Severus tried to speak, but Dumbledore raised his hand.
"Let me finish. There is secret passage to Hogwarts the Death Eaters are not aware of, although the Weasley twins have said that it is obstructed, but I am sure we will find a way—"
"Call it off!"
Dumbledore knitted his brow. "Why?"
"Albus, the Dark Lord's broken her mind. I saw her in the dungeons this evening after the Dark Lord wanted her revived. She was unresponsive, did not acknowledge me… she's almost dead."
"We'll need to get her out tonight," he said gravely.
"You can't!" Severus said adamantly. "There's too much security around her. Breaking her out will kill everyone."
The staunch resolve washed away and a saddened, hopeless look replaced it on Dumbledore's face. "Do you think it's too late?"
Severus nodded. "I think she will be killed tonight."
Dumbledore looked distressed. "She never had a strong will. Perhaps I should've risked the Conditioned—"
"You can't. There's too much at stake here. She is a casualty we have to face. Hogwarts is impenetrable and you cannot save everyone."
"I can't let her suffer—"
"Yet, you forced an innocent boy to endure Azkaban when you could've gotten him out. You turned a blind eye to the rape and torture he suffered and all for what? So our Prodigal son could turn to the light again? So he could remain close to—to Voldemort?"
Dumbledore bowed his head as Severus continued with his barrage of words.
"You destroyed him, Albus. In fact, I'm surprised he hasn't up and left, seeking support elsewhere. I would, and I know his Mirror would if he was awake."
"Harry was going to. He betrayed his Mirror for this very purpose," he replied in disgust. "But the Mirror is no stranger to hardship. There is more love and compassion that keeps him grounded, and I think this is what will help him through this,"
Severus growled, "I don't care how resilient this boy is. You left him in Azkaban! How do you sleep at night after ruining his life?"
"I don't." Dumbledore blinked. "They haunt me. But Serverus I could not rescue the boy."
"You could've, but it was all just too hard to deal with the repercussions."
"And now you are telling me not to risk rescuing Sybil," Dumblebore cut.
Severus stumbled before he could add another word. Dumbledore had a point.
"Do you now realise the dilemma I faced with the boy? Azkaban's magic had increased a hundredfold after Grindelwald had attacked. The security was scrutinised and any glaring loop holes closed," Dumbledore explained. "They also enacted new spells developed by the Unspeakables and only with Umbridge's death were those spells relinquished."
"What sort of spells?"
"If Harry had stepped outside his cell without the Head Atoner or Umbridge's approval, it would have been disastrous, and their alarms would trigger if certain magical spells and curses are used."
"Then why not hoodwink them?"
"Umbridge had hidden Auror bodygards around her at all times. Willis had a Dark amulet on his body that repelled Hoodwinking charms and hexes back on to the caster, I sensed it."
"What about Cotter—?"
"Severus, as you are reluctant to use the Conditioned, I could not use her. the main aim for my golden egg and Order member at Azkaban was to protect The Blue Square children."
How could Severus disagree with that, particularly since half the children that were there were under the age of ten? "Besides those obstacles, why would it have been disastrous for everyone?"
"Not only would Harry die, but all the prisoners and Atoners, as the Head Auror had warned me if anyone attempted another breakout. The Atoners were very fearful of that ever occurring," he said. "So was I, since half the prisoners were innocent. And if the Order attacked, it would've caused war between us and the Ministry. Do you understand why I didn't rescue the boy? Why should I risk everyone's lives, when—"
"—Voldemort was going to attack soon," Severus finished. "And I was the best wizard for the job.
"I had total faith in you to rescue him and the others." Dumbledore sighed and covered his face with a robe sleeve. He had never in his years of service seen Dumbledore with teary eyes.
"Albus—"
"You're right. I cannot risk saving Sybil. As for the others, it will be a logistical nightmare."
Severus was in shock. "You… you think I'm right?"
Dumbledore pinched the crook of his nose. "Yes, as long as you understand why I left the boy there."
"I do." Severus slumped in his chair, defeated.
"This war…" Dumbledore's voice was so quiet now, that Severus had to lean in to hear it. "It just needs to end with the maximum knowledge, surprise and resources to do so. Harry must turn, yet remain close to Voldemort."
"If it all goes according to your plan… What if he wakes up and decides to let us rot in hell?"
"It's a risk we must face." Dumbledore looked so weary now and frail. His voice seemed heavily strained with the weight of guilt crushing him.
"What about my loyalty to my master? I've said this before; Potter is too far in the deep end to be saved. But I could kill the Dark Lord—"
Dumbledore shook his head. "It must be Harry. He knows him and the perfect time to end it. He must be at his side."
"I still don't think it will work," Severus exasperated.
"Before the suffering Harry had inflicted, he left us one last legacy—the reason why Voldemort must drink unicorn blood—Harry had destroyed his power."
Severus was shocked. "It was him?"
"Yes. It must be Harry who ends this war."
"But I could end him right now!" Severus said.
"You could kill him, but it'll all be in vain."
"Care to explain?" he asked, hoping for an answer.
"Unfortunately, I cannot put all my eggs in the same basket and…" He smiled sadly. "I cannot lose you."
He snorted, turning away. "You can't lose me because I am too close to Voldemort."
"No," Dumbledore responded softly, his hand now on Severus's arm. "I can't lose you because you are like a son to me."
He opened and closed his mouth lost for words. Did Dumbledore really mean it? Severus's own bastard of a father had left him and his mother when he was fourteen, and good riddance.
Dumbledore patted his hand and Severus closed his mouth. He must have looked like a gawping fish.
Then the old wizard sighed. "It is a sad night. But I must get back to the Chickens and help them gather the French eggs."
Nothing moved in the landscape. They were somewhere in North Cumbria, as they waited for the French Aurors and Hit Wizards to arrive. In the days to come they'd be more collections of other countries law enforcement teams.
James checked his watch. He hadn't been there for long with only Emmeline and Bill to keep him company.
"The others should arrive soon," he said softly.
The wind began to stir quietly around them, and the swirling mist was thinning.
"Pssst," Bill started. "I'm going for a piss, watch my back." He retreated off into a crumbled old cottage.
Emmeline screwed up her face in disgust as she sat down on a boulder and stared ahead.
"Don't trip over anything," James whispered at Bill.
It was rather cold, and frost was starting to appear on the long grass around them.
"Hey James," Emmeline whispered. "I feel like I'm being watched? Do you?"
"Nah." But the hairs on the back of his neck were suddenly standing. He scanned the dark horizon around him and gripped his wand tighter. He heard nothing except for the grass moving in the breeze and an owl hooting in the abandoned cottage.
"Do you know why Dumbledore didn't tell us who the rest of our party was?" Emmeline asked.
"No… he was rather hesitant telling about the tiniest details."
Abruptly, there were several pops and cracks. Startled, James jumped a foot into the air. He looked around, ready to fight.
"It's alright, James, it's only us," squeaked Flitwick.
He inhaled deeply, though as protocol dictates, he shook Flitwick's hand and whispered a question. "What's your favourite charm?"
Flitwick beamed. "Wingardium Leviosa of course."
James gazed at the nervous, excited faces of the Order members.
Hagrid fumbled forward, holding his pink umbrella. There were a few new faces too, including a French couple and their daughter. The women of that family looked like they had a bit of veela in them.
Then he spotted someone he thought he'd never see again.
He hadn't seen her for ten years or so, and she hadn't changed much, except, there was a lot of silver in her ash blonde hair. She saw him too and almost smiled, then hesitantly, she walked forward.
"Hello James," she said. The lovely diamond necklace and earrings she wore accented perfectly with her cool blue eyes. Beneath her travelling cloak she wore a lavender silk dress that was tightly fitted, with a silver brooch gathering up the pleats at her waist.
"I didn't expect to see you here again, Imogen."
"I'm surprised as well, but Delbert wanted to come out of hiding. He had the inspiration to fight now he's seeing some progress," she sulked. "I couldn't stay in Norway alone with only the house elves to keep me company."
"How are your children?""
"Mark and Desmond are in the Order now. Hugh is currently in Durmstrang. Delbert thinks that school will straighten him out. He thinks Beauxbatons is filled with nancy boys and too much ponce."
James didn't want to know what else Delbert thought. That man just didn't know when to shut up, just like Vernon Dursley.
"How is your family? I am so sorry for your loss." She almost touched his hand, but refrained. "I wanted to send you a letter, but after all that's happened, I didn't think it was a wise thing to do…"
"Thanks for saying it now." There was an awkward silence, and Imogen looked back over her shoulder as though frightened to be caught with James.
"Are you staying at HQ?"
"No, we're staying at Delbert's Muggle Aunt's house in Dundee… until we find other suitable arrangements. I told him, we're putting Aunt Margaret in danger, but he never listens to me." She shrugged. "In a way I'm glad we're not in HQ. If your wife sees me—"
"Yeah, we mustn't go down that road—"
"—Even though we're only friends now, Lily would curse me into oblivion."
"Exactly…"
"Imogen, come here." A lean man with a thin long nose and grey balding hair waved her over.
"I must get back to Delbert… mustn't keep him waiting." She half smiled. Though there was no warmth in it.
James had always known her relationship with Delbert was not a happy one. But thinking back, it had almost destroyed his family as well. What little joy and surprise he had seeing her again vanished.
"I'll speak to you later."
She tensed, a deep furrow appearing on her brow. "I don't think that's wise. It'll make Delbert suspicious."
James knew she was scared, very scared.
"If you're so unhappy why don't you leave him? Take the kids and go."
"It's not that easy, James. Delbert will track me down and kill me. His sons are everything to him. And if I tell him I want to leave, he'll take everything away from me: my children, my reputation and he'll leave me with no money.
"You like your wealth too much."
"Do you think I married him for love?" she tittered. "I wanted so much more in life, and Delbert was the price for it."
James watched her walk back to her husband's side, and saw the grip he suddenly took on her arm as he introduced her to the veela woman and her daughter.
James clenched his jaw, staring at her. There was no love between them. It had been a moment of heat, passion and excitement.
They had met in the Order and things progressed from there. She wanted friendship, passion, an escape route, and James wanted a bit of fun. Stupid fun. It ended up being one of the worst things he had ever done.
Ten years ago, James realised he wasn't Prongs anymore. Gone were the adventures with the Marauders and his happy, carefree days at Hogwarts. He was now a family man with four young children, all gripping him with their tiny, dirty fingers for his attention. The nappy changes, the tantrums, the fussy eaters and a frazzled wife who was more interested in trying to hold the house together with routine, and a sense of happiness against the darkness of the world.
James hated what his life had become then, but then he met Imogen, the rich, sad wife of Delbert Castlewright or as Imogen liked to say, the property of Delbert Castlewright.
When she entered the Order meeting for the first time, it was like a breath of fresh air. For the first time in a long time, James felt like Prongs again.
He couldn't lie to himself; he had done some very stupid things as a young man. Things he wasn't proud of, however, looking back, his time with Imogen has been a very bad mistake. The betrayal in Lily's eyes when she found out stabbed his heart into pieces. They should've remained friends, but it went further.
He was selfish, arrogant and an abysmal male, and to top it off, he let his children down.
No, he couldn't go down that road again. Too much has happened since, and his priorities were with his family now. Prongs was dead the moment he held his tiny son, Harry in his arms. The moment that child looked up with his bright eyes, and James told him, he'd protect him from all the evil in the world, was the moment he grew up. Prongs was nothing but a memory of childhood.
"James," Bill slapped him on the shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. "I've been trying to speak with you for the last minute." He looked amused.
"Sorry mate, what's happening?"
"I was just saying to Emmeline, it's the first time in years we have a glimpse of the night sky without the mist." He pointed upwards and everyone else was oohing and ahhing.
The stars twinkled, and the lack of light from Muggle infrastructure, meant that the stars were brighter and more beautiful than he'd ever seen before. He saw the swirls of the galaxy above, and then a shooting star zoomed overhead.
"Shame the mist is coming in again," Emmeline pouted in disappointment. She looked at her brilliant violet watch with gold hands. "We're due to collect the eggs in a minute."
There was the occasional whisper, but mainly they all waited in silence.
Then they all saw them; tiny flickers of light that slowly grew, into tremendous golden balls. It lit up the landscape as though the sun had come up to play. As the light dimmed, pockets of tightly bunched Aurors touching Portkeys materialised all around them.
James counted the groups and realised that the numbers didn't quite add up. "This doesn't look right. There's over a hundred Aurors here. Shouldn't there be more?"
One of the Aurors, dusting herself off, approached. She was a tall, lean black woman with a dark pixie haircut, and sharp brown eyes.
"'Ello, you must be James Potter."
"And you must be Commander Jehanne Larue."
She shook his hand with an iron grip. "I am, and dis iz half of my French team," she said waving her hand behind, without looking away from him.
The Aurors behind her did not move, nor did not speak, yet they were not looking at the Order. Instead their eyes were trained on the landscape.
"We are very pleased to meet you, but I was under the impression we were meeting all the Aurors today. And where are the Hit wizards?"
Her eyebrows flicked up. "You did not know?"
"Know what?" Bill spoke. The Order members looked at each other in confusion.
"ILS SONT ICI!" an Auror yelled.
Suddenly all the Aurors pointed their wands into the landscape.
It took a second for James to realise who the real enemy was as Death Eaters Disillusioned themselves, revealing their skull masks and hooded cloaks. They surrounded them in a wide circle.
Emmeline had been right, they had been watched. In fact James and everyone had been waiting in the middle of a planned ambush.
He barely had the time to think as the first curse fizzled past their heads, exploding the little abandoned house. A shower of timber and tiles fell onto their heads. James felt the shrapnel cutting his head as he fell to the ground.
"JAMES!" Bill yelled, slashing his wand at a Death Eater, who had lunged at Flitwick. "Tell Jehanne—"
A spell hit Bill between his shoulder blades. He fell into the grass. James was about to run to him when a Death Eater Apparated in front of him.
"Avada—"
"Incendio," he retaliated. The Death Eater's wand exploded in green flames. And with a simple wand flick, catching the stunned moment on the Death Eater's face, James hit him with a Petrifying Curse.
"HELP!" Emmeline bolted past, her cloak in flames.
"Aquamenti!" the veela-like young woman to his right, yelled. A ball of water hit Emmeline's back, putting out the fire and sending splashes of water through the air.
James whirled around. He needed to find the Head Auror and tell her where she and the group must go. But he wasn't sure if even Order HQ had been infiltrated by Death Eaters.
He jumped over a dead Death Eater and helped Imogen out of a tricky spot when a Death Eater, sounding suspiciously like one of the Carrow's, tried to kill her.
There were screams around them. Curses and defence spells whizzed passed, some hitting their targets. James's adrenalin was pumping through him, in dread, fear and excitement. Oh how he wished Sirius was with him by his side.
"Oi, Potter!"
He turned around and a masked Death Eater slashed his wand, firing a blue hex at him. But James ducked in time, rolled on the grass and stupefied the wizard.
Then Hagrid appeared, trying to swing off a Death Eater that had wrapped his arms around his neck.
"Yeh little—" Hagrid swung around violently. The Death Eater screamed as he was catapulted into the air.
"HA, good one!" James said, his alertness lapsing. Then something hit his face and he felt a whoosh of air as he hit the ground hard.
His ear was ringing as Hagrid grabbed the Death Eater who had cursed James. James pulled himself up, in time to see the half-giant throw the wizard in the same direction as the last one.
He couldn't feel pain yet. His face was completely numb, but he could taste the blood in his mouth. Hagrid pulled him up. Unsteady on his feet, James knew time was of an essence now. He could not afford to be injured like this. He needed to see and think straight, and be able to stand upright.
"Yeh right?" Hagrid yelled.
"Yes," he yelled back, spluttering Hagrid with blood.
"Yer gotta' let the Frenchies know—"
"I KNOW! I KNOW!" James yelled, pressing his ringing ear with one hand while cursing a Death Eater trying to kill an Auror with his other.
He staggered around for a minute, falling again, and then deciding to crawl in the grass for awhile. Wizards and witches tripped over him, and James didn't know whether they were Aurors or Death Eaters. He fumbled passed the dead and injured, determined to not see their faces.
He needed to tell the Aurors where to go. He sat down, panting.
"Expecto Patronum," he whispered, thinking of his favourite Patronus memory: the moment Harry was three years old and caught his first Snitch in a backyard game of Quidditch. He could hear his little boy giggling.
"I think you really do have a famous Quidditch player in the making, James!" Sirius said, amazed. "That wasn't a toy Snitch either."
"He didn't catch it, Sirius," James grinned, "he almost swallowed it."
Sirius shrugged. "Eh, three year olds eat anything..."
The spell wasn't working. No, thought James, he mustn't think about Sirius.
"Expecto Patronum!" he said again, this time more fiercely as he concentrated on a memory of Charlie asking him about becoming an Animagus.
A stag materialised in full form out of his wand and bowed its antlered head, its silvery ear perked towards James's lips.
"Id enim auribus nostris tantum," he commanded, thinking of only the Order members and the Aurors present. They must be the only ones for the Patronus to relay his message to. He added the obligatory silencing charm, making the message secure. "Remus Lupin's—Olswell Cottage—you know the rest." The stag nodded, and silently it galloped around, simply majestic and beautiful.
James finally stood up, swaying on the spot, but it was in time to see the first Aurors disappear, stopping Death Eaters in their tracks.
He turned as the Patronus whirled around, telling Flitwick and Bill where to go. The great thing about the Patronus was that once it was free, no spell could penetrate it, except for the Killing Curse. But James knew his Patronus would miss it.
He spotted Hagrid slumped against the remains of the house. James directed the Patronus at him, when suddenly he was knocked to the ground again, and a familiar face swam above him.
"I've waited a long time for you, Potter!" Greyback snarled, pinning James to the ground.
His clawed hands dug into James's forearms. Greyback's strength was monumental as he fought against him. The werewolf's yellow fangs dripped blood onto James's face and his breath smelt like rotting flesh.
James struggled to relinquish his pinned wand beneath his hip, as Greyback enclosed his fangs onto his neck.
"Wait!" he yelled. He had to buy time. "You've waited for me?"
"You're the one who got away. You let that worm get bitten for you," he growled. "And I've never given up scents." He sniffed him. "I thought your son would be enough, but no, he wasn't the same. It isn't the same as biting into the flesh of the scent. Oh the sweetness."
James succeeded getting his wand, and he stared into Greyback's yellow eyes, and into that monster soul of his.
"My son? What's he to you?"
Greyback laughed, teeth brushing James's neck. "He was a good little doggy. He fought me for a bit… delightful!" He opened his mouth wide, about to plunge.
James twirled his wand, and Greyback's eyes widened as he gargled for breath, hands at his slashed throat. James kicked him off. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" he screamed into Greyback's face.
But Greyback bared his teeth, knowing it was the end, and silently laughed. James jabbed his wand into Greyback's forehead, not caring that the werewolf's blood was staining his robes.
"You deserve worse than this!"
"James!" Imogen called out.
Panting, anger flaring; Greyback's words punctured James as though his fangs had ripped him open. He shook his head when Imogen called out again. Greyback was taking a while to die, but he had to move on.
He rushed to her side and she was holding onto her unconscious husband's bloody wound. The uninured Death Eaters were fighting the remaining Aurors. He spotted the Head Auror.
"Mr Potter," Jehanne said, catching his eye. "Ve vill handle this now. Go."
"Just make sure that bastard Greyback dies!" He focused on Imogen. "Come with us."
"No, I'll take him home," she said. Imogen pressed a hand on her husband's shoulder, his blood defiling her beautiful dress. "We will report to Dumbledore as soon as we're safe."
"All right, go." He watched them disappear.
The terror in her eyes never left him, as he too Disapparated.
