Percy was vaguely aware that his fingers were burning. Shifting the cup, he moved it from one to the other, the dark, and bitter smell of the generic office coffee wafted up, but he hardly noticed. He'd been in a daze all morning. More than one member of the DMLE had given him strange looks as they walked past his borrowed cubicle. He'd simply been sitting in his chair, leaning back slightly, his eyes distant. His conversation with Dumbledore earlier that morning kept replaying in his mind.
Harry was a Horcrux? The thought was…distressing to say the least. The morality of shoving one soul into another's body, while the host's own soul was still intact aside, there were other problems. Chief among which, was how much sense Dumbledore had made.
Which was infuriating.
Harry's ability to speak to snakes. His ability to feel the emotions of Riddle when he was exceptionally angry or happy. The visions.
The visions were the most distressing. Percy was no stranger to visions. He'd had his fair share of demigod dreams, and nothing good had ever amounted from them. For Harry to not only be seeing visions, but to supposedly be seeing Voldemort in said visions was beyond distressing. If the diary was their control group, then it was evident that soul's, even housed in a host not belonging to them, could somehow control and manipulate.
Was Riddle aware of what he'd done? Did he know of this special connection that he shared with Harry?
Was Harry even Harry? Or was the boy he knew really just Riddle, using Harry's body for his own purposes? Had Percy been giving away vital intelligence to a potentially compromised ally? How in the hell did he even go about fixing this situation? Cold he fix the situation?
He was far from an expert on Horcrux's, he doubted there was anyone, sans Riddle, who could call themselves such. But he saw no way of killing the shard of soul in Harry's scar, without killing the boy himself.
"Neither can live, while the other survives,"
Suddenly Dumbledore's insistence on following and protecting the prophecy made sense. If Voldemort was half as clever as he was reported to be, then it was entirely possible that he would put two-and-two together. He would be able to read between the lines and perhaps understand what Dumbledore had inferred as well.
The prophecy wasn't about Harry and Riddle. It was about Harry's soul and Riddle's.
Did he tell
Lou. He would bring Harry in to Lou. If anyone would be able to figure out what to do about this thing, she would.
But that too, was not without complications.
If he told Harry, would that potentially alert Riddle to the connection? Would that compromise everything?
He growled, his frustration mounting. They didn't know enough about these damn things. He knew nothing about Horcrux's beyond the utter basics, and it was killing him. His own internal sense of loyalty, was warring with his rationality. With every fiber of his being, he desired for Harry to know the truth. He deserved to understand what was happening to him, what had happened to him.
But his rational side was screaming equally as loudly. Harry was not his mission. Was not his job. His job was to kill Riddle, and to keep this mounting war from escalating to point of exposing the entirety of the magical world. Telling Harry about the Horcrux in his mind would potentially compromise everything they had been working for. It had potentially already been compromised. If Riddle really was aware of the connection he had with Harry, then he already knew that Percy and his team knew about the Horcrux's. He could already have been making moves to move them from the locations. Adding greater protections. Hiding them in places they'd never be able to find.
Or maybe he was as unaware of what was in Harry as much as the boy himself. Slamming back a mouthful of the scalding coffee, he made a decision. He wouldn't tell Harry, not until he had more information. He cared for the kid, he was an innocent fifteen-year-old caught up in a truly terrible situation, and Percy was not going to do anything to potentially ruin or cause more harm than he already might have.
No; he would wait until he had more information. Lou was studying the Horcrux, was learning and dissecting it. She would have answers, and Percy would have more questions the next time he saw her. He couldn't do anything more until then. If Lou, by some grace of the gods, had a way of pulling the thing from Harry without killing him, then Percy would just have to trick the boy into following him along.
That…that would have to do for the moment. Until that time, Percy would have to operate under the assumption that Riddle was completely aware of what they were doing, and what they knew. Percy would have to tread lightly around Harry. Keep him in the loop, without telling him anything. If he began outright ignoring the lad, as Dumbledore had taken to doing, then it was likely that it would tip Percy's hand. But, tell him too much, and he risked giving more information to the enemy.
Plan for the worst, hope for the best.
"You look like you've already had a rough morning, and the days only just started," Came a soft, accented voice from over his shoulder.
Percy jerked, nearly spilling the piping hot coffee all over himself, but managed to catch the liquid before it could touch him. Swiveling around in his chair, he saw the concerned face of Hestia Jones, looking down at him. Stifling a smirk at the ironic name of the witch, he simply nodded,
"Been up since five already." He said, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "Was a busy morning."
"Certainly looks like it, if your head was anymore in the clouds, you'd have floated away?" She said, a slight tease to her tone, but her expression was still one of mild concern, "Are you doing ok? I know I don't know you that well yet, but you look like you've barely slept in weeks,"
"That's 'cause I haven't," he confirmed, rolling his neck to one side, and delighting in the slight series of pops that exploded from the side of his neck, "But that's the nature of the job, right?" he deflected with a grin. The woman gave him a strange look, before nodding at him. Standing up, Percy took a look at the door to Bones' office, he needed to check in with the woman,
"Gather the troops," He said, turning back to the woman, "Meeting in an hour, conference room B," he reached into his pocket and handed her a stack of prepared runes, the same he'd used the other day. "Place these in the same spots I did, I have to go have a meet with Bones"
A knowing look flashed crossed the dark-haired woman's face, "Ah, good luck," she said, before turning on her heel and wandered off towards Tonks' desk.
Turning away, Percy marched over to the door to Bones' office, and knocked twice against the oak door.
"Enter," came the woman's commanding voice.
Turning the handle, Percy strode into the room, and closed the door behind him. Looking up, he caught the Head of the department's eye. She released a heavy sigh, and pressed her wand against the rune on her desk. The familiar flash of magic pulsed through the room, and Percy strode towards the desk. Taking a seat, he crossed one leg over the other, folded his arms over his chest, and simply stared at the woman.
She stared back, not backing down from the silent challenge.
For several minutes, neither party said anything. They simply stared at one another. Neither willing to move, neither willing to budge. Normally, Percy had a difficult time sitting still, but when he was being challenged? He could be more stubborn than anyone.
Bones was the first to break, sighing on annoyance as she took her monocle out.
"I have not yet come to a decision," She said,
Percy didn't say anything. He wanted her to do all the talking, let her talk through her thoughts, get them out in the open, and then tear apart her logic and reason, and manipulate her into thinking the way he needed her to. Years ago, it would have been a skill he didn't possess, nor would he have wanted to possess it, but he'd come a long way in that time.
"I have already stated my…displeasure in the idea you have presented. It goes well beyond the pale; we are talking all out treason. Usurping a sitting Minister, propping me, of all people, up into position. I don't think I have the ability to do that. I took an oath when I became an auror, one to protect not just the people of this country, but the institution that is meant to promote their interests. I cannot betray that. Should I follow along with this-this scheme, I will be spitting in the face of not just democracy, but my own personal honor and loyalty. And what am I, what is anyone, without their loyalty to home and country?"
"It sure sounds as though you've made your mind up," Percy said,
Bones glanced away; it was the first time Percy had ever seen the woman looking any sort of vulnerable.
"I suppose…I suppose I might have," She admitted, turning back to look Percy in the eye, "I understand the importance of what we've been doing. More than anyone else in the…team, I understand the importance of stopping him at all costs. But what you're suggesting," She shook her head, "I can't in good conscious condone it."
Percy was not deterred, he was stubborn, and he needed the woman for their plans to go well. So, he changed tactics,
"How familiar are you with my…family and their history?" He asked, nonchalantly,
Bones looked momentarily confused by the sudden change of topic,
"No more than anyone else I suppose…why?" She asked, her head quirked quizzically,
"My people, we are strong. Me and the other children of our…parents, we are bred for war. For combat, so we have to be stronger, faster, more agile than anyone else, because we have to be." "Is there a point to this, or are you going to continue wanking off?" Bones asked pointedly, but Percy ignored her,
"However, we all have one great weakness, we all have a flaw that can destroy us, it is our fatal flaw. There was a girl, one whom I was very close to, her's was hubris. She allowed her personal pride to blind her to anything else, she could never be wrong, could never be contradicted. Another, her's was ambition. Holding grudges, personal vanity. We all, every one of us, has a flaw that, if exploited, can destroy us. Mine? Excessive personal loyalty,"
Bones gave him a look, and he chuckled,
"I know exactly what you're thinking, because it was the same thought I had. How can being loyal, possibly be a flaw?" He laughed again, only this time it was shallow, and bitter,
"But you don't understand the extent to it. Take whatever definition you might have of the 'excessive' and crank it to eleven. I would gladly, let the rest of the world burn down around me, let the rest of the population of the planet die, than turn my back on, or betray the trust of, the people important to me. It blinds me the flaws of the people I love, it blinds me to the idea that someone could possibly have ulterior motives for caring for me. I know that, I know the damage it can cause, and I know the kind of ruin it can bring,"
His eyes turned sad and compassionate,
"So, believe me, I understand how you feel. I understand the conundrum you feel. Better than anyone else on the planet, I understand the way you feel right now. Which is why it's imperative that you understand, because I believe there may have been some…miscommunication last night. By continuing your work with us, you are not betraying your loyalty to your country, nor to your own oath."
He took a breath and uncrossed his legs, sitting forward in his chair,
"Cornelius Fudge is currently doing everything he can to consolidate power. He is using executive authority, he does not have, to usurp powers and responsibilities that traditionally belong to other branches, and claiming them for himself and the Wizengamot is letting him do it. In addition to that, and whether he is even aware of it or not is irrelevant, parts of his administration is working to quiet dissent against both him, and the administration. How long will it be before people get the message, before they realize that speaking out gets the hurt, or worse? How long until a culture of compliance takes root?"
He waved a dismissive hand,
"It might not matter now, it might not matter four years from now, but what happens when someone else takes power? What happens if someone like Lucius Malfoy, or Theodore Nott Sr. takes that position? With all the new powers and authorities afforded to it, and with a government to scared of retaliation to speak out, what happens then? The point I'm making here, is that what Fudge is doing is illegal. Under his administration, kidnapping, extortion, bribery, is running rampant, and he is culpable. And that's without even going into the probability that he's probably lining his own pockets with taxpayer money, or accepting bribes of his own. The question I have for you, without even considering Riddle, and everything he brings into the discussion. The question I have, is whether you have a duty to your country, and to your people, to ensure that the justice is served? Is it not your responsibility, and the responsibility of the office you hold, to make certain that the people of your country are safe from the corruption of the people meant to represent them? To make sure that they can speak out, and freely, and criticize the government as is their right, without fearing for their life?"
Percy shook his head,
"I would argue that you do. This isn't a coup; a coup implies that we're planning to use violence to usurp the government for personal or political gain. That's not what we're considering here. All we're doing here, is ensuring that justice is served. That people are held responsible for the actions they've taken. Then there's Riddle." He said, leaning back in his chair,
"You said it yourself. More than anyone, you understand the importance of what we're trying to do here. Last time, Riddle got his people in place too quickly, and the aurors walked headlong into slaughter, after slaughter. The safety, and future of Britain, relies on the right people being in the right positions. If Riddle gets his people in place first, history will simply be repeating itself, only there won't be Harry to bail you out this time."
Looking the woman square in the eye, Percy could tell that his words had, had an effect. She looked conflicted, which was a good thing. Percy's gamble, on pushing her on her personal loyalty and sense of honor was working. However, it was ultimately up to the woman. Regardless of Percy's willingness to use excess force and the mist to manipulate people into doing what he wanted, he refused to use those abilities on people who were guilty of nothing but following their own moral code.
Percy glanced at his watch, "There's a few more errands I need to run today, so I'll leave you the rest of the day to think it over. I'll check back with you at the end of the work day for your answer," Without giving the woman a chance to say anything else, Percy got out of his chair, and left the room.
Closing the door, he turned and began making his way to the conference room. He needed to brief the British crew, and then he needed get back to Sirius' and bring Sirius and Remus up to date. Sirius had been sitting around for too long as it stood, and the man needed to get to work.
Which brought up another conundrum. Whether or not Percy let Sirius in on the knowledge Percy had on Harry and the Horcrux. On the one hand, the man was literally the only family Harry had left. He deserved to know, and would want to know. However, if he did tell Sirius, and Harry found out that Percy had told the man, and not told Harry himself, it could drive a wedge between Harry and Sirius. Percy couldn't do that, if Harry hated him, he could live with that. At the end of the day, Percy's time in England was limited, but he couldn't willingly and knowingly ruin Harry and Sirius' relationship like that.
Sighing, Percy rubbed at the back of his ear. It was going to be a very long day.
BREAK
"Ok, so the question becomes, to go chance it, and go after the one's we know about. And do we do so, praying that Voldemort won't be alerted to our finding them, or do we wait until we know for certain the locations of the others, and try and grab them all at once before he has a chance to snatch them?"
Percy was currently sitting at the kitchen table with Sirius and Remus, a series of maps, files, and records strewn about the counter-top.
"It's a risky thing, innit?" Sirius asked, scratching his mane of hair, "Safe to say that, if the tosser used Kreacher to test the defenses of one of these places, then the others are likely to be trapped as well, yeah?"
"Gents," Remus interrupted, staring intently at the photo of the locket on the table, "I've just had a thought,"
"What's up?" Percy asked, looking up from the map of Little Hangleton,
"If Voldemort really does have a way of knowing when these Horcrux's are taken, then surely, he is already aware that the locket is missing, yes?"
Percy blinked, then sat down in his chair.
"Shit" He summarized, succinctly,
"That does present a bit of a problem," Sirius murmured,
Percy groaned, and rubbed at his face. Trying tis crape the exhaustion from his eyes, he blearily shook his head,
"Doesn't matter," He finalized after a moment, "If he knows, then we'll adapt. It's what we've been doing thus far, and no point in backing down now. This just means that we have the opportunity to act now. We'll go after the one's we know of for certain, with the exception of the snake. That one's…that one's going to be tricky, but I have had some thoughts on how we might accomplish it."
"And that might be?" Sirius asked, but Percy just shook his head,
"So, realistically then, we can only go after the ring." Remus mumbled, then he looked up at Percy, "Any luck on finding the cup then?"
Percy shook his head again, "Nothing as of yet, but I've had a thought about that as well,"
"Are you going to share that, then?" Sirius prompted again, but Percy shook his head once more, and Sirius growled,
"Listen, mate, I was under the impression that this little operation worked differently than the Order. The entire reason I joined up, was because you promised that this was an open relationship. None of the shite that Dumbledore pulled, that means clueing us in on what you're planning."
Percy was going to say something to defend himself, but Remus cut across him, "I'm afraid, I have to agree. You told us this was a partnership, you withholding critical information is not going to cut it,"
Percy paused, and leaned back in his chair, his arms folding over his chest. He sighed, they were right, after all. He had recruited all of them, under the pretense that he would be honest about what they were doing, he just hoped they didn't cut and run when he made his suggestion, nor would they ask too many questions,
"You're right," Percy admitted, "You're right, this is a partnership, and you deserve to know." He took a deep breath and looked between the pair of them, "Ok, so follow me on this one. According to Harry, the diary had been in Lucious Malfoy's possession, before he gave it over to Ginny, right?" The pair nodded, "Which means that at some point, Riddle must have given Malfoy the diary," Another set of nods, before Remus' eyes widened,
"No, surely not!" He said, sounding scandalized, as he understood what Percy was planning,
Sirius however, was not as quick on the uptake. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, looking between Percy and Remus,
"I'm going to take control of Lucious Malfoy," Percy said simply.
The room fell silent, as both Remus and Sirius just gaped at him. Then, Sirius laughed. A loud, full, deep-belly laugh. He bent over, hands on his knees and his shoulder's shaking, as he lost control of himself. Finally, the man managed to take control of himself, as he stood back up, his shoulder's still quivering slightly as he rubbed a loose tear from his eye.
"Oh, mate." he said, shaking his head at Percy, "You have an utterly, delightfully, evil brain, and I adore it. That is absolutely brilliant."
"I hate to be a kill-joy lads," Remus interjected,
"No, you don't," Sirius teased, but Remus ignored him,
"But we do happen to know, that Voldemort is a rather accomplished legilimens."
"A what?" Percy asked, feeling utterly lost. He was, by no means an expert on magic, but he did know a fair bit of magic, and he'd never heard of whatever the hell a legilimens was.
"A master of mind magics. As well, he is, perhaps, the most accomplished user of the Imperius Curse than any ever before. He would surely know and understand that one of his supporter's was under its effects."
Percy nodded; he understood the problems that Remus was seeing. He was, of course, correct. If Percy was thinking of using mortal magics to control Malfoy, then it would likely have been a problem. But that wasn't his plan. No matter how accomplished Riddle might have been in magic, not even he held a candle to what mist magic could do. Which was exactly what Percy planned on doing.
"I assure you," Percy promised, "What I'll do to him, will be completely undetectable to Riddle,"
"Another one of your tricks then?" Sirius asked, taking a seat at the table and crossing his arms,
"What do you mean?" Percy asked, not liking the tone in the man's voice, and very much not liking the direction the conversation seemed to be heading,
"May I speak frankly?" Remus asked. Percy gave him a look, but nodded regardless,
"You don't make sense," Remus said, "You claim not to be able to do magic, and yet you pop in and out of place with ease, regardless of whatever protective enchantments that should prevent it. You can control water to an extent that shouldn't be possible, and can do it without the use of a wand. You seem to be able to, at will, completely disregard all known rules of magic,"
Percy had been right, he really, really, didn't like the conversation,
"What the hell are you?" Sirius asked, leaning over the table to look at Percy squarely,
Percy hesitated. He wasn't sure what route he wanted to take. On the one hand, Percy had already revealed himself to Bones, and had borne his soul to Dumbledore, what was wrong with telling the pair before him? Aside from the fact that he would be spilling the beans on his secret to a lot more people. The secret behind demigods was technically an international secret for the ICW. Only the Security Council, and the top brass in the States knew of their existence. He also felt that he owed it to demigods everywhere, to limit the number aware of their existence as much as possible.
But both Sirius and Remus were trustworthy. They were already sworn to secrecy, and Percy knew that neither would spill the beans of his secret.
He made a decision.
However, just as he opened his mouth to say something, the phone in his pocket chirped to life. Raising a brow, Percy fished the phone out of his pocket. The number of people who had his personal number was miniscule. His confusion only grew when he saw that it was Sarah, the woman, regardless of her teasing of his never visiting, never called.
He gave the other's a look that said that the call was important, as he answered the call,
"Sarah," Percy said, "Sorry, I'm in the middle of a meeting can it wa-"
"Percy!" The woman hissed, her voice quiet, little more than a whisper, "The runes you gave me were just tripped," Percy's eyes widened, and he was on his feet. The last time Percy had been in England, Sarah had mentioned that she'd been getting harassing and threatening messages at her practice. People she'd prosecuted threatening retaliation. So, Percy had taken the liberty to hire enchanters and curse breakers, to set a litany of protective enchantments, and rune stones around the property. The runes and enchantments were keyed into the owner, which alerted them when they were activated. Percy knew that, if one of the ward's had been tripped, someone was truly on the property. The protections were geared in such a way that animals and other non-magical creatures wouldn't be prematurely trigger the alerts.
"Hide, I'm on my way," Percy said, and shut off the phone,
"What's happening?" Remus asked,
"And what the hell is that thing?" Sirius questioned, pointing at the phone,
"No time," Percy said, pulling his gun free from the holster on his belt, and checking the chamber to ensure it was loaded, satisfied, he didn't bother re-holstering the weapon. "I'll be in touch." Then, with an application of his abilities, he mist-traveled.
Mist-travel was a uniquely difficult technique, one that had taken some time to develop and perfect. Normally, he was rather limited by the range and distance, but, given that England was an Island, Percy was more attuned and powerful than he would be elsewhere. It gave his abilities a greater range, which was how he was able to re-materialize in Sarah's bedroom, in her countryside home.
Sarah's home was a simple, yet elegant ranch-style home. She owned around three acres in either direction, and her home itself was tucked up against a thick wood on all sides. Her room was on the western side of the house, and was where Percy targeted.
His eyes swept around the room; his eyes glowing. He'd already been channeling his power as he was traveling. By focusing his abilities, he could see shapes of water, and his eyes tracked onto the shape of water huddled in a nearby closet. Recognizing the feminine shape in the closet, Percy continued his sweep. The house itself was empty, and so were the western, Northern, and Eastern corners of the property. But over on easter perimeter, just outside where Percy knew the boundary enchantments lay, he could see six additional shapes. All sitting in the shadows of the trees. Waiting for night to fall more deeply. One of them must have gotten careless, and accidentally jumped the boundary line without realizing it, setting off the alarms.
Turning his attention back to Sarah, Percy crept over, and tapped on the door, speaking in a near silent whisper,
"Sarah, it's Percy,"
The door flew open and Percy found himself staring down the twin barrels of a double-barrel ATI Crusader. It had been a gift from the woman's uncle before he passed. Another squib like her, who had also made a habit of annoying and making life difficult for the pure-blooded elites. Percy almost smiled, even terrified, the woman was utterly unflappable.
Her eyes widened at the sight of him, and she dropped the rifle to floor as she jumped at him. Percy caught Sarah as the woman jumped into his arms. Calmly wrapping his arms around her, he stroked the back of her head and tried to keep her silent as she shook in his arms. His eyes narrowed, as righteous anger filled his being. Hate, a deep, all-consuming rage. He just knew that this was that Umbridge woman's doing. He, of course, had no proof of the fact. However, he just knew it was to be true. She had known that she couldn't target Percy while he was on assignment with the British ministry, so she was trying to send a message by going after Sarah.
His friend.
Someone he cared for deeply.
He'd burn the entire damn ministry to the ground.
"It's going to be ok," He reassured her, "I'm right here, ok? I'm going to take care of this," Sarah was too busy shaking, but he felt her head wobble slightly against his chest,
"I need you to get back in the closet while I deal with this, can you do that for me?" She looked up at him, startled, but she didn't protest. Sniffing lightly, and fighting valiantly against the tears prickling the corners of her eyes, she nodded firmly, and gently detached herself. Percy placed a hand on the small of her back, and gently guided her into the closet, one she was sat down, he placed both his palms against her cheeks,
"It's going to be all right," He reassured once more, "Now, I'm going to camouflage you. No one, and I mean no one, will know you're in here. Don't come out until I come and grab you, do you understand me?" She nodded shakily, reaching down with one hand to grip the barrels of her shotgun. Closing his eyes, Percy once more channeled his power, and laid a thin coating of water over the woman, wrapping his mist magic over her as he did so. It had been a trick he came up with on a mission in the Caribbean. By using the water over her, and manipulating the mist as he did so, he was able to bend all light around her, the same way water in a lake refracted light, and made it seem as though light was passing straight through her, making her essentially invisible. Percy had only ever used the technique on himself, but was pleased to see that it worked on her as well. Soon enough, there was nothing left in the closet, but the jackets and pantsuits on the hangers.
"I'll be right back," Percy assured the woman, before closing the door. Turning his back, his expression darkened considerably. This was his fault. Everything about the situation was his fault. He'd pushed Umbridge too far. He'd goaded the ministry into taking action, things would need change. And that meant getting Bone's on board. If she refused to join him…he'd take matters into his own hands.
But that was a matter for later. His immediate concern was raining down hellfire on the bastards who dared to threaten someone he cared about.
The rage of the sea, would be unleashed.
BREAK
Clarke pulled his pocket watch out and glanced at the time, then glanced up at the moon. It was a bit early for bed, but the lights in the house had gone out a few minutes ago, which meant it was time to move. Motioning with his hand, his compatriots donned their invisibility cloaks. Standard issue kit for Ministry-trained Hit-Wizards. Clarke counted himself lucky, his crew was experienced, and they'd been running together for over a year. They were a well-oiled machine, and they hardly needed to communicate, they trusted each other to do what was needed to be done.
This wasn't the first of this kind of job they'd pulled. For the past several months, they'd been going on more and more of these types of missions. Clarke was happy to do it. The Ministry was law, it was order, without it, there'd be little else but anarchy. Especially with men like Dumbledore, who was clearly attempting to usurp power, and discredit the Ministry. When Madam Umbridge had brought the job to him, he hadn't even blinked. This Sarah Rosthein was responsible for keeping a dangerous subversive from reaping justice. The arrogant boy had nearly blown the secret of their world, had wantonly disregarded the rules of their very society all because he had an inflated ego.
That would change.
Starting tonight.
He hadn't seen Kimmels and McAvoy for some time, and checking his flank, he still didn't see either of them. In fact, he hadn't seen either man for some time, which was unusual. He didn't pay any mind to it though, the pair were professionals, with nearly thirty-five years of duty between the pair of them. Clarke wasn't concerned with them not doing what they were supposed to be doing, so he pressed on.
Clarke pressed his back against the door, stacking up on the far side. He felt a slight pat his back as Dorsey passed him. He checked his watch one more time. Hammels and Richards should be stacked up by the other door, and Kimmels and McAvoy should be stacked up by the back porch. Reaching out with his wand, he waved it briefly, the wave of magic wafted over the building, revealing all human inhabitants inside. The magic reverberated back to him, revealing that only one other individual was in the building, just as they were expecting. Nodding to himself, he reached out with his wand once more, and tapped the door handle. There was a soft click, as the locks on the door snapped open, and Clarke pushed the door open.
Holding his wand in front of him, he cleared his front before turning and clearing his left. He felt Dorsey pass by him, and repeat the process on the right. Turning, Clarke passed in a low crouch, brushing Dorsey with his shoulder as he did so. Movement to his right, and Clarke briefly looked out of his peripherals as he saw Hammels and Richards pass into the hall beside him. Walking for deep, they turned out of the small entrance hall, and began making their way. They had entered on the eastern side of the house, and Rosthein's bedroom was on the westward side.
There was still no sign of Kimmel and McAvoy though, and the beginnings of a bubble of worry had sprung up in Clarke's chest. They were meant to meet on the other side of the hall, and all three were supposed to have cleared the building and regroup in the living room as a unit. However, as he looked over to the door to porch, it was still closed. The thought briefly crossed him mind that they could have run into something, but he dismissed the thought quickly. If the pair had been jumped, he'd certainly have heard something. Moreover, his spell would have revealed the presence of a foreign body. He didn't have time to worry however, they had a job to complete, he would concern himself over their truancy later.
Pushing through the hall, they made their way into a large living room, but stopped abruptly when he stepped in something wet. Confused, he couldn't stop himself from looking down. He'd stepped into a puddle of some kind. It was too dark to see what it was, but it was oddly thick. Stupid woman must have spilled a soup or something and had forgotten to clean it up.
Rolling his eyes, he made to step off, but stopped as something dripped onto his head. It plopped on the top of the cloak, and slowly rolled off his head and down onto the floor. Confused, he couldn't help but look up, and his breath caught in his throat.
On the ceiling, was a dark mass, but with the moon shining in through the windows, it was clear to see what it was. On the ceiling, half frozen in a miniature glacier, was Kimmel. His throat slashed, his blood, dripping onto the floor, and very much dead. Clarke's body froze in place, as his heart began to race. He couldn't comprehend what he was seeing, surely his mind was simply playing tricks on him. There was no way in hell that what he was looking at was real.
"Bloody bollocking shite," Hammels muttered, his voice one of shock and disbelief. Clarke looked over to where the voice had come from, fear truly gripping his heart that the man had also seen what Clarke had, and that the vision of horror might actually be real. Only to Clarke's surprise, that wasn't what Hammels was looking at. The man had the hood of his cloak off, and was staring slack jawed, and bug-eyed at something across the room.
Clarke followed the man's gaze, and very nearly lost his lunch. Hanging over the fireplace, mounted on the wall, was the head of McAvoy. His eyes wide in terror, his mouth open, and an enormous broadsword shoved through the back of his throat.
"What the fuck is happening?" Dorsey said, his voice quivering, "How did-when-I don't understand,"
Clarke was sharing the terrified man's sentiment. They needed to regroup, someone had known they were coming, this wasn't right, this was-this was, he didn't know what it was but they needed to bug out."
"Exfil now!" He roared, as he spun in place and tried to disapparate to their exfiltration location. However, as he summoned his magic to leave, something happened. Or rather, nothing happened. He didn't disapparate.
"Wards!" he shouted, "Get to the forest! Clear away from the building!" Without waiting for affirmation from his companions, he turned and sprinted away from the hell that had been inside. The pressure behind his eyes was growing in force and intensity. His temples throbbed, and it felt as though someone was hitting him in the temple repeatedly with a ball-peen hammer. His vision was swimming, and he stumbled over his cloak as he tore out of the building, tripping over his feet as he did so.
Hauling himself back up, he made to run off again, when a scream of utter anguish drew his attention back to the building. Turning back to look at the building, he watched in utter horror as Dorsey screamed and thrashed in the doorway. His hands were gripping the sides of the door, as he thrashed from side to side. But behind him, lay the true horror. An enormous Cerberus, deep black fur, blood red eyes and all three heads biting and snapping at the legs of Dorsey. The right and left heads each gripped a leg, and with an effortless heave, dragged the terrified Dorsey into the darkness of the building. His screams of terror following him into the darkness inside. The door slammed shut, but did nothing to hide the sound of flesh being torn from the body, and the screams of pain and suffering filling the otherwise still evening air.
Clarke decided that his teammates were not worth losing his own life over. They didn't get a reprieve however, as the earth itself began shaking. Clarke once more lost his footing, as the earth trembled. He tried bringing himself to his knees he saw Hammels and Richards also get tossed to the ground. But that wasn't all, the earth itself split. An enormous crevasse open in the seam of the planet, and Clarke could only watch in disbelief as Richards fell into a hole in the planet. As soon as his head fell through the earth, the ground stopped shaking, and the crevasse sealed itself back up.
Clarke's legs weren't working, they were shaking too badly, and he couldn't find the strength to stand. There was a flurry of…something, in front of his, as something materialized out of the darkness between him and Hammels. It was a figure, ungodly tall, and built like a house. He wore traditional Grecian armor, and Clarke could see a sword and shield attached to the…thing's back. It looked over at Clarke, and seemed to consider him for a moment, before disregarding him. It turned away and stalked over towards Hammels. The man screamed, and tried to scramble to his knees, but the creature was too fast, and it wrapped an enormous hand around Hammels head. Hammels screamed, and kicked, and pushed uselessly against the monstrosity.
It then turned and looked over at Clarke. Its red eyes bore into Clarke's, as it wrapped an enormous hand around Hammels' face. Then, Hammels flailing grew more intense. His body shook, and shuddered, as his face contorted. Liquid began pooling and pouring from his ears, as his head pulsed and seemed to grow and inflate. Like a balloon filling with air, Clarke watched in both horror and fascination, as his head swelled, until there was a loud "POP" and the man's cranium exploded. Bone, blood, and brain matter showered the field. Something bounced into Clarke as he watched. Shakily reaching a hand up to his face, he pulled a wet, mass from his cheek. Peeling it away, he vomited as he dropped the eye ball that had smacked him in the face.
He groaned, covered in his own sick. The heavy thudding of footsteps drew his attention up and towards the noise. Looking up, he came face to face with the monstrosity that had just killed Hammels. He felt something warm run down the side of his leg, as his body reacted uncontrollably and his bladder relieved itself. The monster leaned down, the gleaming gold of the Spartan helmet on his head pressing into Clarkes face. Beneath the helmet, was nothing but an inky black darkness, with only the blood red orbs that stared sightlessly into his. That was all his mind could take, as Clarke's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he lost consciousness.
BREAK
Percy grunted as the man he assumed was the leader, collapsed on the floor of Sarah's living room. He scanned the room one more time, and double checked his handiwork. The room and hallways were littered with the unconscious bodies of the hit team. Under different circumstances, Percy would have simply killed them all, and the possibility was strong he still would. However, he wanted them alive, if only for the time being. They were more useful alive than dead.
It had been a little trick of his. Complex, and difficult to pull off, but simple enough in concept. Percy had simply waited until the men had entered the room, before he coated the entire building in mist magic. He essentially reworked the men's brains to think that they were seeing and experiencing things that they weren't. He could have simply knocked them out with the mist, but Percy had been feeling particularly vindictive.
Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his phone, and dialed a number. After a few rings, Winthrope picked up,
"Hey Percy, what's up?" The woman answered cheerily
"I'm sending you an address, bring a recovery crew. Miss Rosthein got attacked, they're alive, but need to be interrogated."
Winthrope's disposition became professional, immediately, "Got it, Dempsey and I will be there immediately." There was a click, and the line went dead.
Sighing, Percy put the phone back in his pocket and walked back to the bedroom to collect Sarah.
BREAK
"And then Hannah tripped over herself and fell straight into the lake," Susan giggled, as she shoved another bite of her meal into her mouth.
Amelia chuckled, as she cleared up the remainder of her own food, "I can't imagine she was terribly pleased about that," She mused, tremendously pleased to have the chance to have dinner with her niece. They were eating later than normally, Jackson had never returned to her office, in spite of her waiting an extra hour in her office. Perhaps the man had known what her answer would be, and chose not to deal with it. She had been annoyed, but time with Susan always worked at bringing her out whatever funk she was in.
Susan shook her vigorously, her giggles turning into outright laughter, "She lost her mind, poor thing. Could barely even swim, so Justin had to jump in and pull her out,"
"Doubt she minded that too much," Amelia chuckled, little Hannah had a rather adorable crush on her friend.
Susan reddened slightly, "No, she was rather pleased with it, and then-"
Before the girl could say anything, however, the fireplace roared to life, as a head appeared. Turning to look at the interference, Amelia's good mood vanished as she took in Percy Jackson's features in the fire.
"Bones," The man greeted, his flaming head nodding in her direction,
"Mr. Jackson," Bones said coolly, "How nice of you to interrupt my dinner with my niece." She added, while she was annoyed with the man, she also wanted him to refrain from saying anything potentially compromising.
"Ah," The man said evenly, "Apologies, but we have a situation-"
"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until the morning, you kept me waiting all evening, and now you can wait for me,"
"We have another MacTavish," He replied evenly, and Amelia's blood ran cold, "We're at HQ, meet there in ten, and apologies for interrupting dinner," And then Jackson's face disappeared from the fireplace.
Amelia shot out of her seat, and went to gather her cloak,
"Auntie?" Susan asked, confused, "What's going on? Who was that?"
"Work, luv," Amelia reassured, "Terribly sorry to have to cut dinner short, but I assure you that I wouldn't be leaving if this wasn't important. I expect I'll be back late, so I expect you to be in bed by the time I get home, alright?"
Susan simply sighed, "Yes Aunty," she said, and Amelia's expression softened, as the only family either of them had left, she didn't like up and leaving her niece like she was,
"Sorry Susan, believe me I wish I didn't need to go but-"
"It's ok Auntie," Susan said, her face morphing into an understanding smile, "I understand,"
Grinning at her understanding niece, Amelia spun on her heel and apparated away from the manor.
She was led into the safehouse that Jackson had been using as their base of operations by a stoney-faced Agent Winthrope. Walking through the entrance hall, she was brought into the meeting lounge. Unlike the last time Amelia had been in the room, the large meeting table had been moved away. In its place was a hard metal table, with an unconscious man she recognized as Nathanial Clarke, handcuffed to tabletop.
Over in one corner, was a large, comfortable leather couch. Seated on the couch was Percy, he had one arm wrapped over the shoulder of a familiar looking woman, who was draped in a large woolen blanket, and a cup of what Amelia assumed to be tea, clutched in both hands.
"Miss Rosthein," Amelia said in surprise, shocked to see the attorney there of all places. She hadn't known there was a connection between the woman and Jackson. Rosthein seemed to be lacking her usual poise however, as her shoulders were shaking slightly, as Jackson appeared to be trying to comfort her. At the sound of Amelia's voice, both parties looked up, and a strained smile graced the attorney's face,
"Madam Bones," She said, her voice lacking its usual professionalism, "I'd say it was lovely to see you, but given the circumstances…"
"Please tell me you're not involved in whatever this is?" Amelia asked, gesturing at Clarke's unconscious form. She already knew the answer to the question, however,
"Unfortunately, I am, Madam Director," Rosthein said morosely, as Jackson squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. The woman turned to look at Jackson, one hand coming off her mug to grip Percy's hand in her own, and squeeze it.
Nodding at the woman, Jackson untangled himself from the couch, and strode over to Amelia,
"What the hell is happening here Jackson?" Amelia demanded, feeling a mounting sense of frustration,
"Mr. Clarke here," Jackson said, gesturing to the unconscious man, "Appeared on Miss Rosthein's property earlier tonight. He arrived with five other individuals, armed, in addition to their wands, with standard issue Ministry invisibility cloaks. After tripping the security enchantments around the property, she called me in. Upon my arrival, I took precautions on hiding and protecting Miss Rosthein, before incapacitating the targets. All six members of the hit-team are licensed and active members of the Ministry's Hit-Wizard Program."
"You believe they were sent by the Minister then?" She asked,
Jackson nodded, "I do," He confirmed, "However, I wanted to wait for you to be here, before interrogating them."
This was a power play and Amelia knew it. Jackson had absolutely no reason to bring her in for the interrogation. Especially if he understood that she had decided to take herself off the team. He was trying to manipulate her into understanding the logic behind his plan. She briefly considered that the entire ordeal was an act, but as she glanced over at Rosthein, she quickly dismissed the idea. She had known the woman since she first started practicing, she knew her well. The woman would not be here, if there was not a simple truth to matter. And to be frankly honest with herself, she knew that Jackson was right about the Minister. She didn't appreciate Jackson manipulating her, but the fact remained, that Ministry agents had now targeted and attempted to harm a member of the British Public. Targeting Jackson was one thing. If he didn't want to do anything about it, that was on him, but now innocent civilians were getting caught in the crossfire, and that was something that Amelia could no longer tolerate, now that it was staring her in the face. It was one thing to be told that members of the legislature were being kidnapped and extorted, it was another entirely to see the reality in front of her.
She would wait and see how the interrogation went, but she felt as though she'd made up her mind. Turning to Jackson, Amelia's eye's narrowed.
"Grab the veritaserum, if you would agent. I'm dreadfully curious to hear what Mr. Clarke has to say,"
AN: AND DONE! Boom, this marks the end of my pre-loaded chapters. This means that HBP goes on the back burner while I work on my other stories for a while. But fret not! It WILL be back! Especially because things are ramping up quickly. Next up, the start of the Horcrux hunt! I have a lot of fun plans and ideas for where that's going to go, and don't worry! I have some ideas to mix things up so we aren't just reading the same things that happened in canon!
Real quick, my DM's are always open and I'm always happy to answer questions. But, let me just say that I am not currently open to story proposals. I've been getting a lot of these lately and as flattering as it is, I simply cannot take on any new stories. If you want to pitch me an idea for your own work, I'm always happy to lend an ear and give some advice, but I am not taking requests for stories, or anything like that. All of my stories are too long, and some too neglected, to start anything new, any time soon. Sorry if this is disappointing but I want to provide great content with at least some regularity.
That being said, thank you all so much for all the love and support, I'm thrilled that so many of you are enjoying this! Hope you all are staying safe; I love you all! Until next time,
Love,
LilDB