Disclaimer: Jo's world, I just play here.
Summary: A duck and a chicken steal a monkey's pants…
A/N: blah blah blah excuses, blah blah blah
Thank you for all your words of support. It's rough going sometimes, but we're making it.
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Chapter 37: Running Out of Time
The Safe House was empty. Very empty. There weren't even any booby traps waiting, which made the web of shields and counters Aries had woven around himself seem superfluous and paranoid. And yet he had been sure that Sev would leave at least one little 'present' lying around, something to alert him when Aries and Charles got there.
"Severus, we're here!" the Spellsmith shouted, just in case.
Nothing.
"Aries, he's not here," Charles said, crossing to Sev's bedroom. "And I don't think he's going to make it today."
"What makes you say that?" Aries asked. "Sev's very punctual, especially when it comes to revenge. He never misses an appointment for vengeance." He followed Charles to the doorway, but stopped, feeling guilty at the thought of entering without permission.
"His robes are gone," Charles gestured to the opened trunk lid, "and so is his stash of potions, the ones he doesn't want the Order poking into."
"Those potions?" Aries swallowed.
Sev had been gradually building up his stash for years now, to keep anyone from getting suspicious. He had never told Aries or Charles what it was for, but Aries had privately dubbed it his Last Resort Store. If they were gone, and Sev wasn't back from the meeting last night…
Aries cursed, loudly, and disapparated, arriving just barely on the outside of Hogwarts' wards. He transformed into Cloak and ran full out for the castle, connecting to Hogwarts again and pleading with her to help him find Remus. The castle ushered him on, opening the necessary passages as he got to them, and, barely five minutes after he'd left the Safe House, he found the werewolf staring out a window near Gryffindor tower.
"Remus!" he shouted, shifting back mid-step. "When's the next full moon?"
"What?" Remus asked, startled by his sudden appearance.
"The next full moon, when is it?" Aries repeated. "A week, tomorrow, when?"
"Sunset, the day after tomorrow," the bemused werewolf answered. "Why?"
Aries just cursed again and turned for the owlery. Voldemort had a very large pack of werewolves at his command, and a potions master who could brew Wolfsbane in his sleep. Put that together with the unscheduled meeting Aries had missed last night, and Sev's potions…
Basically, he had two days to make sure the Battle of Hogwarts was more than the Massacre of Hogwarts.
The Spellsmith reached the owlery, leg aching and out of breath. His eyes locked on the long-awaited sight of a white snowy owl against the background of the plain, brown school owls.
"Hedwig," he called, holding out one arm for her to land on. "Here girl."
Hedwig turned at the sound of her name, head cocked to one side in confusion. Aries stepped forward, lifting his arm closer to her. She screeched and took flight, but rather than coming for him, the owl flew up to the rafters, screeching and hooting like he was trying to kill her.
Ignoring the sharp stab of disappointment, Aries called a few school owls instead. They waited obediently as he scratched out his letters.
Dear Arion,
Mars' ascension is at hand. I know my course and destined fate, but some are not so tightly bound. I seek an audience with the herd of the Dark Forest near Hogwarts before the full moon. None should set their hoof against the stars, but all should remember that what the stars say and what they mean may differ by the scents on the wind.
Your Friend,
Aries Hesuchazo
Once known as Harry Potter
Dear Crunch,
The gilding has sloughed off, and lead is underneath. Should Voldemort win, he will prove immortal, and all the profits of all the goblins will turn to debts. Speak to all the clan heads you can find before this full moon. I will fight the head, but for the sake of all that is dear under the earth, the goblins should work on bankrupting the body. The battle will be at Hogwarts.
Yours in gold,
Aries Hesuchazo
AKA Harry Potter
PS: I, Harry Potter, as an official representative of the forces opposed to Voldemort, stole a goblet of immense value from the vault of one Bellatrix Lestrange. According to Article III, section E of the Goblin-Human Neutrality Contract, this constitutes a breach in treaty, and the goblins are free to choose a side as they wish.
Dear Master Tobin,
The Uroborus is finished. If you are interested, there will likely be a get-together of old and past associates around Harvest moon. I expect it will be a rowdy time.
Sincerely,
Master Aries Hesuchazo et al.
Satisfied that the messages would get across, Aries cast privacy spells over the most confidential words, and a haste spell over the lot. Confident they would at least arrive on time, he gave the letters to the owls, telling them where they could find the addressees. As they bobbed their heads and flew out the window, Aries looked up at Hedwig, who truly seemed to be glaring at him now, and left.
What else did he need to do? He counted the Horcruxes in his head – the journal, destroyed; the ring, destroyed; the cup, at the Safe House; the diadem, in Charles' quarters; Nagini, with Voldemort (that was going to be a problem); and the locket…
"Kreacher!" Aries called, hoping the time travel hadn't affected his ownership of the elf. There was a pregnant pause, then the elf appeared with a pop.
"Master is different," he muttered, "Kreacher hardly recognizes master, is he still a miserable Muggle-lover?"
"Kreacher, I need to talk to you," Aries sat on the floor, so he could see the elf better. "I need you to tell me what happened to Regulus."
"You is wanting to know about good master Regulus?" Kreacher croaked, eyes wide.
"Yes," Aries encouraged him. "You see, I was his friend once, and I know he did something very brave. Could you tell me about it?"
"Oh yes, Kreacher will tell master all about good master Regulus and how brave he was."
At the end of the story, Aries' chest ached, and Kreacher was in tears, but the Spellsmith pushed on. He didn't have enough time to be sympathetic.
"Kreacher, you were a good elf, to protect the necklace so well," he praised. "Where is it now?"
"Oh Kreacher is not a good elf, Kreacher should beat himself with a plunger!" the elf moaned. "The miserable thief that master Sirius let into Mistress' house stole the necklace, even though Kreacher screamed and bit him. Kreacher is a bad elf, Kreacher has failed Master Regulus!" Kreacher started banging his head against the wall and stubbing his toes, until Aries pulled him away by the hem of his loincloth.
"It's alright," he said, though inside he was coming up with new and inventive curses based around the word 'dung'. "We can still get it back; do you know where Mundungus Fletcher is right now?"
"Kreacher knows, master," he nodded helpfully. "Shall Kreacher bring him to you, sir?"
"You can do that, even through the wards?"
"Elf magic is at our master's beck and call – elves do whatever Master commands."
Aries set Kreacher down on the floor again. He remembered his professor at Uni saying how the limits to Elf magic had never been properly tested. "As far as we can tell," he had explained, "their limits are only the limits of their bond-master's imagination. Since humans are, by and large, unimaginative gobs, no one really knows what they can and can't do."
"Alright," Aries breathed, rubbing his clammy hands on his robes. "Do it, bring him here."
Kreacher bowed low, showing Aries more respect than the Spellsmith could remember him showing anyone, and disappeared with a loud CRACK. Moments later – after Aries had glamoured himself into a young Harry Potter, paced the hallway three times, bit one spot on his lip until it bled, and checked his watch twice – the elf reappeared, dragging a struggling pile of smelly cloth by the ear.
"Mundungus Fletcher you nefarious pickpocket, I would hang your head on the wall with Kreacher's ancestors, if it wouldn't dishonor them," he growled, binding the thief as Remus had him.
"Who- Harry? What- what's going on?" Dung stuttered. "I didn't do it, I tell you, honest!"
"Oh really?" Harry pulled his head up by the hair, forcing him to make eye contact, and conjured a little illusion of the locket. "I suppose you don't recognize this, then? But why would you? It was just another trinket, wasn't it; just another memento of a poor orphan's dead godfather that you stole from a simple house elf. Why would you remember that?"
Harry rather thought that the 'poor orphan' tactic might not work while he was trying to bodily intimidate the man, but Dung had just enough good in him, it seemed (he was trying to help Dumbledore, after all) to feel remorse. As the combination of guilt and terror turned the thief's beady eyes watery, Harry decided he had made his point and let go of the greasy locks.
"I need that locket, Dung," he said, much more softly, hopping to play his own 'good cop'. "I'd even pay you fair price for it."
"I wish I could give it to you, honest I do," Dung licked his lips anxiously, looking around the hall as if for escape. "I…I don't have it no more. Sold it months ago, I did." Harry didn't even have to ask who Dung had sold it to, the pathetic man was so eager to appease him. "Sold it to a short, plump witch what looked like a toad. Had a pink bow in her hair. Well, didn't so much sell it to her as she blackmailed me into giving it away; nasty piece of work, she was. But I don't know her name, I swear!"
Harry cursed mentally, lips set in a firm line.
"That's okay, Dung," he ground out. "I do."
Dolores Umbridge. Why did it have to be Dolores Umbridge? The Spellsmith absentmindedly released his prisoner, paying him no heed as he scurried away.
"Of all the foul cesspools of ministry corruption," he growled to himself. "Why her?" He cursed aloud this time, making Kreacher jump. Cancelling the glamour, Aries waved the elf away. "You did a good job, Kreacher; head back to the kitchens for now."
Kreacher bowed low and disappeared with another CRACK.
With a sigh of frustration and resignation, Aries turned away from the owlery and marched toward Charles' office.
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The Defense Professor stared, bemused, at the spot in the shared flat where his friend had stood. Aries rarely explained his emergencies until they were no longer emergencies, or until he needed favors – and it was quite clear Severus was not going to be coming – so Charles sighed and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, from which he flooed to his office.
McGonagall had been pleasantly accommodating and had allowed Kingsley to take over his classes for the day, but that had not removed the stack of ungraded papers from Friday weighing down his desk. Another heavy sigh and the former Auror took a seat, deciding he could let off some steam by flunking Crabbe and Goyle.
He had given the seventh years a report from the Auror records office of the fight where Mad-Eye Moody lost his eye (though he had changed the names of all involved) and assigned them an essay on what they would have done differently and why.
Crabbe had written "I would have worn goggles so my eyes wouldn't get hurt."
Goyle had simply said "I would have gotten them before they could get me, that way I would win."
With no small satisfaction, the defense teacher scrawled bright red T's on the top of each scroll, including comments such as "Do you always wear goggles when dueling, or are you precognitive now? Four inches on how wearing goggles would have affected the battle, or you fail this assignment." and "I do believe that 'getting them first' was the intention of the Aurors in the story. Three inches minimum on actual spells or tactics you would have used, unless you want a failing grade."
He looked over a few more – Longbottom had some practical insights on safety in numbers, and Susan Bones pointed out a few articles of ministry policy that should have been followed – and was just considering tackling Granger's monstrous essay when the door to his office clicked open.
"That was fast," he commented as Aries shut and locked the door behind him, leaning against the door jam. "Something must have gone wrong – I wasn't expecting you for another hour or two at least."
"I need your help," Aries admitted.
"Well, obviously. In what capacity, specifically?"
The Spellsmith lifted his wand and an image of a necklace appeared in front of it. Charles leaned closer, examining the emerald-studded 'S' design with interest.
"Dolores Umbridge has this necklace," the brunet explained. "It's one of the Horcruxes. We need to destroy it before the full moon, two days from now, because Voldemort's going to attack."
The redhead felt his heart sink to hide somewhere behind his liver.
"Oh," he managed, mouth suddenly dry. "Right. Well, I'll work on that then. But you really must tell Minerva."
Aries heaved a resigned sigh.
"I suppose I must," he conceded, but then warned, visage darkening, "If you haven't returned with the locket by tomorrow morning, I'm going to take it by force."
Charles slapped his hand on his desk, breaking a quill in the process.
"Aries, you can't," he declared firmly. "They'll put you in Azkaban the second Voldemort's gone if you murder a ministry employee."
"I'm already headed for Azkaban, with all I've done. What's one more charge?"
"Look, Aries–"
"Don't," the spy interrupted, turning his back. "Just…get the locket. Please."
Charles sighed, lowering his head to stare sightlessly at the essays and broken quill in front of him. Aries hadn't been nearly this…fatalistic before the Inferi assignment, but Charles was at a loss of how to help his friend.
"I'll bring back the locket," he promised, "just don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. I still know the spell to bind you to a troll's bum if you get yourself killed."
Aries smirked slightly, nodded at him, and left.
The former auror groaned and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. Great. Now, on top of grading essays and assuaging Snape, he had to steal a necklace from a toad-woman so that Aries didn't kill her and the world as they knew it ended because Voldemort couldn't be killed. Why had he wanted to get mixed up with Harry Potter again? He couldn't remember for the life of him.
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Aries trudged up to the Headmistress' office. He wasn't looking forward to her drilling him for information – again – especially not when he still had so much to do. But Charles was right, Minerva and the Order deserved to know and prepare just as much as he did, especially as the younger students would have to be evacuated. His mind flashed to the children, studying obliviously while he dallied, and he quickened his pace. By the time he reached the gargoyle statue, he was nearly running.
The gargoyle leapt aside as he approached, and the Spellsmith hurried up the stairs, sending a mental 'thanks' to Hogwarts. The Headmistress' door was halfway open, and she was talking to a pair of students – second or third years, Aries guessed – gently berating them for some infraction or other. He knocked politely and poked his head in.
"I know you can do better, boys, and I hope to see my expectations met. Now, back to class with you." The headmistress stood, shooing them out. "Aries, to what do I owe this visit?"
She motioned for him to sit, but he declined.
"Bad news, I'm afraid."
Minerva sighed and leaned back in her chair, looking more exhausted than Aries had ever seen her.
"I can think of only a few things that could make this situation worse, young man," she said wearily. "Has the media or ministry received word of your true identity, or are we dealing with Voldemort this time?"
Aries smirked in amusement that Minerva thought of public opinion as an enemy on par with the Dark Lord, but his face fell again a moment later.
"We can expect Voldemort's army on our doorstep as soon as the full moon rises."
"But that's…" Minerva frowned.
"Two days from now," Aries confirmed. "I have begun preparations already, and suggest you do the same."
The Headmistress stood again, her shoulders square, and nodded firmly.
"Very well," she said. "I will call in everyone we have. But know this: all the Aurors in the ministry and all the good witches and wizards in the Order will not stand a chance against Voldemort. We will take care of his army, you must take care of him."
"Trust me," Aries looked her in the eye, "Voldemort will not live three days from now."
Her face softened slightly, her eyes twinkling in a manner reminiscent of Dumbledore.
"My dear boy," she said, "I would trust no one else."
Aries didn't know what to say to that. Such a show of good faith was entirely unexpected after telling his life story. He coughed awkwardly, then turned and left. Not running away, mind, he just had…matters to attend to. Right.
A side trip to the owlery confirmed that his desired allies had not replied yet – and Hedwig was still angry with him – so he continued on down to the grounds, heading for the lake. From a pocket of his robes he produced a wad of gillyweed. The rubbery plant was as difficult to chew now as it had been in his fourth year, though he now had considerable more practice. The Spellsmith shucked off his robes, weaving a quick warming and drying charm into them for when he emerged, and dove into the water, feeling the gills on his neck and webbing between his fingers grow even as he dove deeper.
Hogwarts Lake was big, as lakes went, but the merfolk village at its depths was smaller even than Atlantis University had been. It took him several minutes of darting among the kelp forests and rocky outcroppings before he finally recognized an Achtish Mung. A handful of mermen and women had been lounging about drinking Cafta before they noticed him; now they were warily watching his progress, tridents and spears in hand.
"Calm waters!" he called in mermish, raising his empty hands to emphasize peaceful intentions. "I come to talk, nothing more."
The merfolk looked at each other, then one – a well-scarred, green skinned merman – swam up to meet him, three-pronged weapon held at the ready.
"Human village-swim, talks big stuff Atlantis?" he asked.
It took Aries a moment to understand; he should have known these merfolk would have a different dialect of mermish than Atlantis. He hoped it would be close enough.
"Yes, I studied at Atlantis University," the Spellsmith responded, trying to enunciate around the chewy bits of gillyweed that were allowing him to breathe. "I come with important news from up above."
"Man-swim know dead white-fin school-king?" a mermaid asked from behind the spokesman.
"Dumbledore was my friend, he would want you to hear what I have to say."
The merman considered him, then grinned, showing rows of pointed teeth. He switched his trident to a less threatening position and gestured for Aries to follow him as he swam back to the Achtish Mung.
Relieved – the gillyweed would only last an hour – Aries took his position at the focal point of the clamshell-shaped enclosure. He waited a moment for a few more merfolk elders to arrive – evidently summoned by the other merfolk who had seen him at first – then began.
"How much do you know of Voldemort?" he asked.
"White-fin School-king not like no-death wizard, but is floating problem, some say," the green-skinned merman answered dismissively. Floating problem meant a problem for those on the surface, one that didn't reach the merfolk. In other words, he thought it didn't matter.
"If the wind blows or the boats sail, that is a floating problem," Aries retorted. "If no-death wizard kills the goodness of Hogwarts, that is a deep problem. No-death wizard only likes pure wizards, anyone else – centaur, merfolk, and no-magic humans – are slaves or worse to him. He would kill your village or chase you out and put walking dead-humans instead."
The merfolk roared at this, clearly upset, and Aries' ears hurt from the pressure of the watery noises.
"Village is and will be," the green merman declared, louder than any of the other. He waved his trident aggressively in the water. "Our lake is ours, no wizard or above-beast comes in. Protect home-village!"
Again the merfolk roared their agreement, and Aries had to wait for the noise to subside before he could continue.
"That is all I ask," he encouraged. "When the full moon rises, two days from now, Voldemort will attack. I wanted to warn you what could happen. Thank you for listening."
The merman spokesman surged forward then, and Aries reared back, half-expecting to feel a trident point stick into his ribs. Instead, the merman grabbed his forearm with one webbed hand.
"Hogwarts and home-village like clamshell top and bottom," he spoke fiercely, and Aries was shocked to see fear in his eyes. "Man-swim protects top shell, village-people protect bottom shell."
"Right," Aries nodded. "I will have an army up-above."
"And we will have the monsters of the deep down below."
Aries laughed – the merman was perfectly capable of speaking the Atlantian dialect. His gillyweed was almost gone, though, so he simply returned the merman's grip for a moment, then pushed off the rocky floor, swimming hard for the surface. His head broke the water just as the gills disappeared, which left him swimming for shore with no protection from the chill. By the time he reached his robes, his teeth were chattering and his fingers were almost purple, but the warming and drying charms were still going strong.
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A/N: Please don't kill me for delaying the meeting with Sev. I know almost all of you were dying to see what would happen, and I promise they will meet up eventually, and likely a few fists will be thrown, but it won't be for at least a couple chapters more.
So…I'm gonna go work on the next chapter. In a secret bomb shelter with a cheeseburger and a towel.
PANTZ,
Emy