Firebird's Fury: Book III of the Firebird Trilogy Chapter 34: The Enemy of Mine Enemy, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Review Responses are in my forums as normal. After this, just two more chapters to go. The last chapter is a bit longer, of course :)

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Enemy of Mine Enemy Is Still Not A Friend

In a conference of war, Voldemort looked upon his Inner Circle and despaired. So many were gone, and so few of quality remained. It never dawned on him that many of those dead were killed by his hand alone.

Where was dear Elezeta Malfoy? Her utter lack of morality and her overwhelming loyalty warmed his heart, as well as his bed. While Narcissa was the more beautiful of the late Malfoy's wives, Elezeta was the more depraved, and he cherished that depravity as much as he was capable of cherishing anything.

Speaking of depraved, where was his Bellatrix? Where was Antonia Dolohov, or Dolph Rutger? Instead of those who helped him so much in his last push to power, he was left with the oily Severus Snape, the perpetual liar Augustus Rookwood, and the idiots Alphard Smithe and Caracus Goyle. He trusted his European lieutenants, most of whom did not bear his mark at all, more than those left of his so called 'Inner Circle.'

They're going to betray you, Little Tommy Pouty Face.

Voldemort struggled to maintain his composure in the face of the old insult the girls in Slytherin used to hurl at him as a boy. In the back of his mind, he heard Myrtle laughing again as she regarded him with open lust. He was only thirteen the first time she used that term.

"My lord?"

That was Severus. Oily, slippery Severus. A man who took the oaths necessary to wear the Dark Mark; a man who always said the right things at the right times, but never seemed to do exactly what Voldemort wanted. He realized he should have killed Snape after he lost the majority of his students at Hogwarts, but there was simply no one else smart enough to replace the man at Hogwarts. And if nothing else, there were six pregnancies among the remaining students now that the birth control potions were removed. They would be the soldiers of Voldemort's future army. Perhaps if he started shaping them as children, they would do better.

"How many fighters do we have available?" Voldemort asked. "Including the Hogwarts militia."

If Snape was uncomfortable at the idea of sending children into battle, he did not show it. "At Hogwarts, we have fifty who can actually fight. A hundred it you simply wish fodder for the enemy wands."

"And in the Ministry?" Voldemort asked of Rookwood, one of the only ones left from those he appointed when he went to the mainland.

The former Unspeakable shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "We have perhaps three hundred wands, my lord."

They're going to betray you.

"That number seems low, Augustus," Voldemort said with a firmly wrought calm.

Rookwood was smart enough to know how close his master was to anger, and had seen the impaled bodies of Narcissa and Lucious Malfoy and Pius Thicknesse to know what that anger could do. "It was the reason why Malfoy let the goblins loose first, m'lord. Dolohov led several aggressive strikes against the Light Covens, just as you commanded. Potter somehow managed to bleed her with every encounter, until she mustered for an all-out attack against a gathering of light covens in Scotland. Somehow, Potter knew the attack was coming and flanked her forces, wiping them almost all out. He killed Antonia in the process."

Voldemort scoffed. "If Potter killed her, it was not by himself. The boy was no match for me in Bulgaria, and I am quite certain he could not have beaten Antonia without aid."

"Yes, my lord," Rookwood said. He knew when not to argue. "Regardless, Potter's group has grown significantly while ours has stagnated. Malfoy had to increase taxes to pay for the losses, which drove more businesses to Potter's people. Malfoy even attempted to take hostages to force businesses to stay, but that just drove the other businesses out faster. As of this moment, the Ministry has almost no income, and with the destruction of our vaults at Gringotts, we have no reserve gold. The only ones who stay are the oath-bound, and they are growing hungry themselves."

Which meant Voldemort could field four hundred wands in England. He had an army of five thousand on the mainland, but only four hundred here? "And what forces does Potter have?"

It was Snape who answered. "I managed to place a spy in Potter's camp—a student who left with him but who remained loyal to me personally. She reports that Potter lost almost a hundred wands in the battle at Gringotts, leaving his standing total force at only five hundred."

This was new. "Why was I not informed of this spy?"

Snape, the bloody half-blood, did not even blink. "Because you were not here, my lord, and Lucius did not care about the intelligence she brought because he did not have sufficient wands to make anything of it."

How quick they are to throw Lucius into the line of fire, now that he is dead, Voldemort thought as he considered this most slippery of his followers. "Can this agent be made to take action?"

"Yes," Snape said with just the hint of a smirk. "She joined Potter's camp with promises of a future that have not occurred."

"Does she know where Potter's so called Ministry is?"

"She knows more than that, my lord," Snape said. He leaned forward and peered intently at Voldemort, as if inviting Legilimency. "She knows where his Sanctuary is. It is supposedly an old property of the Blacks that he has converted into a school and a Covenstead. Almost a thousand young witches and wizards—many former Hogwarts students and Muggleborn—live there full time. She has a slip of parchment that the secret keeper wrote, but failed to destroy after. For all his numbers, however, few if any can actually fight"

The surge of adrenaline washed away the sound of Myrtle's laughter in his mind. Voldemort leaned forward himself. "How long have you had this information, Severus?"

"I received it by owl just last night, my lord." With a flourish, Snape removed a slip of parchment, and with his wand levitated it to Voldemort.

The Dark Lord stared intently at the secret of the location and could feel the odd, slippery magic of the Fidelius at work. That was one piece of magic not even he could pierce, as it was a charm created by Dumbledore himself. His mind started spinning rapidly through tactics.

Large scale magical battles only happened when one side chose to defend a fixed location. Otherwise it was simply too easy for the opposition to slip away. It was the reason why magical combat tended to be on a smaller scale, unlike Muggle combat. Potter's continued existence was a testament to how difficult it could be for even a wizard of Voldemort's power and skill to catch a wizard in hiding.

But this…this was a site Potter and his supporters would defend. A fixed location filled with children and families was a target no light side fighter could abandon. And if he could force Potter to engage his whole force, then Voldemort could crush his opposition in one fell swoop.

But he could not afford to leave anything to chance. "Rookwood, send your people out to collect those giants who will fight for us, and put as many trolls under the Imperius as you can. All of you, I will be returning to the mainland, but will be back in one week's time. No one is to speak of this, or I will show you there are worse things than death."

Everyone, even Snape, nodded quickly.

"And Severus—if this plays out, you shall be highly rewarded. If, however, it is a trap, rest assured you will die first."

"Yes, my lord."

~~Firebird~~

"We're making a deal with one devil to fight another," Luna pointed out.

"Maybe if we're lucky, they'll damn each other instead of us," Harry said.

~~Firebird~~

The wizard walked into Gringotts Lyon and paused just inside the doors to consider the atrium. The structure of the bank was identical to that of its sister banks, including London, in that the bank atrium had desks in a U-shape where goblins worked counting gold or jewels and appraising loan requests, while the back of the U-Shape had tellers to help witches and wizards making transactions.

It was a testament to the troubled times in Paris that there were no witches in the bank that day, and only a pair of other wizards. It did not take long for the newcomer to make his way to a teller.

"What do you want?" the goblin asked in brusque French. The wizard thought how appropriate that a goblin could make even French sound ugly.

"I have business with the director."

"The director is busy."

"On my life, he will want to hear what I have to say. If he feels I have wasted his time, then my life is his."

The other tellers, bored now by the absence of customers, all turned and looked at the tall wizard. The one he spoke to give a toothy grin. "I will enjoy hearing you scream, then, wizard. Riptooth, get the Director and give him this wizard's terms."

A younger, smaller teller disappeared from view. The wizard remained where he was, staring at the cavernous entrance to the goblin tunnels behind the bank of desks in the distance. A few minutes later, Riptooth returned followed by a hulking, thick-bodied beast of a goblin wearing a carefully tailored black jacket, slacks, and black vest over a white shirt with a cravat. If not for the row of sharp, crooked teeth and the heavy, angry brows, the creature would have looked ridiculous. As it was, for all his menace, the director stood only two inches higher than the wizard's navel.

"You say my time is worth your life?" he growled.

"I do. I bring word of a betrayal to the goblin nation—a betrayal that threatens the whole of your race. Further, I bring a gift to prove the sincerity of my words. But my words are for you alone, Director."

"Your words mean nothing. Prepare to die, wizard."

"Before you kill me, tell me this," the wizard said without linking an eye. "Have you or any of your brethren spoken to your London branch?"

The director growled—a low, deep sound. "You know something?"

"I do. I will tell you what happened, but only if you hear all my words. But given my life is on the line, we will speak not here, but in a neutral spot. There is a field south of Pytier-Saint-Oblas, a meadow in the woods. I would speak to you there. Come armed if you wish, have as many of your goblins ready with Portkeys as you desire, I will be there alone. My gift will be given regardless of whether you agree with my words."

"What gift?"

"Witches, Director. I will wait for you there."

With that, the wizard turned and walked out of the bank, fully aware of the hundreds of small, beady eyes that watched his every step. He Disapparated the moment he cleared the bank's significant wards.

He was not surprised when, ten minutes later, the Goblin director arrived by Portkey just feet away. "You had better have good words to share, wizard, or no hole in the world will let you hide from us."

The wizard removed an audio ball. "The words you must hear, director, are not my own. Listen well."

With a wand, the wizard activated the audio ball.

"…there is no threat to you except for the goblins, who will never bow to you. What better time to eliminate the oldest, greatest threat to our kind than now?"

"I begin to think those Veela have corrupted your mind, my friend. It is good we killed them for you."

"Do not make light of my sacrifice, salaud!"

"Gentlemen. I have no doubt his experience with the Veela has coloured Armand's perception of the Goblins, but this does not mean he is wrong. The Goblins are our oldest enemy. However, I learn from the errors of those who came before me. I will not start a second front to our conflict, not yet. When we have crushed the rebellion in England and Italy, and secured against any Norselander incursions, we will turn our attention to the little insects and stamp them out of existence. Rest assured, I will destroy the goblin nation, but not until my other enemies have been disposed of. But for now, I am to England. I want a force of five hundred wizards and witches—your best—to accompany me. Each of you has your own regions and assignments and I expect weekly reports. And when I return in triumph, we will change the world. Begin mustering our forces for the Portkeys to Pevensey."

The Director stared at the audio ball so hard it seemed he wish to make it explode. "I recognize two of those voices."

"Yes, the first is Armand Delacour, the wizard who bonded a Veela. The second is Francois Durand, the new French Minister of Magic. The last speaker is the Dark Lord himself, Voldemort."

The hair on the goblin's eyebrows puffed out, as if suddenly electrified. "The Dark Lord comes even now to seek my brethren for his armies in England." The goblin's voice was a thick, low, grating growl.

The tall wizard shrugged and tossed the audio ball to the goblin. "You have heard in his own voice how he plans to betray you. Have you spoken to your London branch?"

The goblin sneered. "Play no games with me, wizard. What do you know of it?"

"The Dark Lord destroyed it," the wizard said. "It is gone."

"Lies! No mere wizards could ever destroy a goblin bank!"

"And yet, I ask again, have you heard from your London branch? But consider this. He forces you to go and capture your own witches. As proof of my words, I bring you a gift of a hundred witches." The tall wizard stepped aside, and in the clearing where the two agreed to meet appeared one hundred young girls, ranged in age from ten to thirteen.

The goblin director stared at the girls with a hungry gleam in his eye and a drop of drool at the corner of his mouth. "A compelling argument," he finally managed to say. "They look drugged."

The wizard shrugged. "They are drugged. Surely you understand how difficult it is to Portkey so many under-age witches? It is a long-term potion. They will be useless to you for a week, since we did not know how long our negotiations would take. But after that, they will awake and know the fear you and your brethren crave. Surely this is a better currency than mere gold or empty promises in one hand and a betrayer's wand in the other?"

"The other directors will need convincing as well," the goblin said.

The tall wizard smiled with satisfaction. "America has many young witches, Director. We will be glad to make such gifts to all of them in return for their help."

"Do so, and make the gifts annual tribute, and you shall have our support."

The wizard bowed without breaking eye-contact. "It shall be done, director."

The wizard barked Gobbledygook into a charmed pendent, and twenty goblin warriors appeared by Portkey, since Goblins could not Apparate themselves. They gathered up the blank-faced, docile witches with lascivious touches to their tender bodies, probing where they would take their pleasure.

In moments, they were gone. The tall wizard spun and disappeared himself with a pop before appearing in Florence, in a small apartment near the Medici school. Almost as soon as the wizard appeared, his features began to melt into those of an attractive young witch.

A witch who began to tremble. "Those….those…monsters!"

"Easy, Jenkins," Auror Captain Nathalie Cooper said. "He took the bait, then?"

Deborah Jenkins nodded and rubbed her shoulders. "He wants a hundred girls for each branch."

Cooper grinned. "Then we'll tell Pennybaker's group to start manufacturing the golems faster. They bought the potion excuse?"

"Yeah."

"Right. Okay, back to France with you. We think Schroeder will be mustering his division soon and he might want you along. Potter's spy reports that the Dark Lord has taken the bait, hook line and sinker."

Jenkins nodded. "I hate my job, you know."

"When this is over, Jenkins, I promise you the cushiest, best-paying desk job you could ask for. You'll have earned it."

"Still," Jenkins continued. "Schroeder's not a bad lay at all. He's just violent enough to make it fun."

With that, the young spy Disapparate away. Cooper shook her head. "Morgana save us from spies and perverts."

~~Firebird~~

As D-Day approached, the atmosphere of Potter Cottage grew increasingly tense. Tori was especially peevish, while blaming it on morning sickness she did not, in fact, have. Ginny snipped at Hermione's heels every minute of the evening, while Hermione snapped right back. And Luna walked about in a fragile state of harshly controlled calm, talking to no one if she could at all help it.

Harry stayed in the wand lab, crafting wands. His current wand was his first Slytherin wand, and it'd taken the subject almost two days and a saliva potion to produce enough saliva and phlegm to imbibe the blank—in this case Cypress wood. He knew the core was to be the root of a manticore's fang.

He was far along, though, and expected to be done before D-Day.

His work was interrupted by the chime of his personal ward and the feel of Luna. He flicked his wand to release it, and a moment later his first wife entered the room. He realized her birthday was coming up soon.

This made him realize that this girl who he had slept with and made a part of his life was, at that moment, still only fifteen years old. Compared to older women like Amora Shacklebolt or Tonks, it was easy to see that she was still just a teenager. She was shorter than they were, and thinner not just at the waist, but everywhere else. She likely had whole centuries of life ahead, if they survived, and she had bound herself to him, at the tender age of only fourteen, for the remainder of that span.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sensing her pensive mood.

She nodded and settled onto a stool nearby him. "If this works, the world will be different," she began. "Covens won't really matter anymore. Tori's right, there will still be some traditional aspects of them, but politically they won't be the power they used to be."

"Not overnight, but I think you're right," Harry said.

She took a deep, bitter breath. "So, are you going to dissolve our coven, then?"

Harry blinked. He blinked again, put the mostly-finished wand down, and stared at her. "Bonds are for life, Luna. The only way to dissolve the coven would be to kill or bind the magic of my wives. I would never do that."

"Except that your bonds were formed through me first," Luna pointed out. "Through the Aether bond. It was in Ravenclaw's book. Hermione didn't understand the reference because she can't see magic as we can, but it was there."

Harry tried to keep his hand from shaking. "When did you find it?"

"Last week. I wasn't going to say anything until this plan popped up, and I realize the war could be over sooner rather than later. We formed the Coven to position ourselves politically to better oppose both the Sabbat and Voldemort. We've done that. Everything we hoped to accomplish with a Coven, we've accomplished. We don't need to have five people in our marriage anymore."

Staring at her, and how very tense and brittle she looked, Harry suddenly realized what this conversation was about. And with realization came a twisting of his stomach.

Aethers didn't like to share.

"You want to dissolve the bonds of the others."

Biting her lip, Luna nodded. "I know you enjoy sex with them, Harry. What boy wouldn't? And since Tori is already pregnant and I have a binding agreement with her father, she could stay. But Ginny and Hermione could be set free. The Ministry is done. We owe the Weasleys nothing, especially after Molly's involvement in Justine's death."

The twisting turned to nausea. "Luna, I…"

"You once said you would have been perfectly happy with me alone," she whispered, some of her control cracking. "I've given so much for you. For our mums' vision of the future ... I gave so much to be able to bear your heirs, and to build this coven. I had sex with other women, Harry, and then had to watch you do the same, so that we could build our coven. But I didn't want it—I never wanted any of it. I just wanted you. I've wanted you since I first felt you watching me through the wards. I'm so tired of being the dame of a coven. There's a reason most dames are at the century mark or older. I…"

She started crying quietly, and each tear felt like a knife in Harry's gut. Unsure what to do, Harry pulled her onto his lap and held her. "You remember our date in New Mexico?" he asked when at last her sobs quieted.

Luna nodded silently.

"I think that was one of the happiest days I'd ever had. We didn't even really do anything—just two stupid kids holding hands and walking around. And yet, it was a perfect day. And that night, when you came back to me after so long, everything felt right. I would be perfectly happy with just you, Luna, and count myself the luckiest wizard in the world."

Luna hiccupped. "I sense a 'but'."

"They're a part of our lives, now," Harry said. He traced a tear down her cheek. "And it's not just about sex."

"You like it."

Harry grinned. "Of course I like it. I'm sixteen. That's not what I meant. Before we met, Luna, Hermione…she was my friend. I saved her in Hogsmeade during the tournament, and later she said that she'd be willing to bond with me, if it saved me from some old Sabbat hag. You don't understand because you're Pure-blood, but for her as a Muggleborn, that was a huge sacrifice she was willing to make. She wasn't offering because she wanted to be a dame. She was offering because she was my friend, and didn't want me to suffer if she could prevent it."

"She was offering because you touched her magic," Luna corrected him. "I'm trying to like her more, Harry, but it's very hard."

"And Ginny?"

Luna shuddered. "We were friends, once."

Harry sighed and held her close, thinking furiously. "We should make it a family decision, then."

"What?"

"Ginny's not happy either, Luna. She came into this thinking it would be something it isn't. I think she had this ideal image of me that hasn't really panned out. She might want to return home. Who knows, she might find some strapping American wizard to bond with."

"She is beautiful, I'll give her that," Luna admitted. "She could make most wizards very happy. And she was trained to be a traditional First Wife. As beautiful as she is, she could be, easily."

Harry leaned down and kissed her neck, right behind her ear where she was most sensitive. Whispering against her soft skin, he said, "You're beautiful too, Luna Potter."

One thing led to another, and in minutes the two were making love on his desk. The release of it left them both gasping, not just from the physical pleasure, but from the emotional release.

"Okay," she gasped, clinging to him as their sweat-soaked bodies entwined. "A family meeting …. After everything is settled. And don't say anything about what we did, Harry. It's Hermione's turn tonight, and you know how jealous she gets. So take a pepper-up potion and…"

Harry kissed her. "Yes, ma'am."

~~Firebird~~

His army assembled in the empty, cobblestoned streets of Diagon Alley. Under the gaping, empty windows of abandoned shop buildings, a force of almost two thousand wizards and witches from across Europe stood in loose formation. Opposite them stood a horde of almost a thousand goblins, clanking and clinking in their heavy metal armour, with their blunderbusses and other Muggle-style weapons.

And in the back stood three fifty-foot tall giants and almost a dozen forest trolls, all held tightly under the Imperius curse. If not for the wards of the Alley, all of London would have seen the giants. For some reason, that gave Voldemort a thrill. He played the scenario out in his mind—flying before a herd of angry giants as they rampaged through Muggle London. He could hear the women's screams as the giants stomped on them, one after the other, splat…splat…splat….

They're going to betray you, Little Tommy Pouty Face.

Myrtle's incessant voice broke the daydream. Just as well, he thought. The time had come. "My friends," Voldemort said, his sibilant hiss projecting magically among the throngs. "Today, the future of the world begins. Because of your strength and magic, magical Europe stands united for the first time ever. Today we remove the last holdout to that unity. Today, we bring Britain to heel. And after that…after that, the world!"

His army cheered—they had to. Their oaths compelled them to obedience, and Voldemort knew all of the subtle ways to manipulate the magic of oaths. They were his, bodies and souls.

Potter was going to die that day.

They're going to betray you.

Author's Note: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading. If there are any major faux-pas, they are entirely of my own doing.