Chapter 27: Rest and Recovery

Harry woke to find himself lying in an unfamiliar bed. Startled, he shot up quickly, though his concern lessened greatly when he spotted his wand lying on the nightstand to his right. Now armed, and with no sign of any imminent threat, he took a moment to observe his surroundings.

The room was more or less empty. The bed and nightstand were the only furniture, and he could see from where he stood that the closets were completely bare. No decorations were hung on the walls. Harry looked down and was unsurprised to see that he was still wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday. Or, at least, he assumed that it had been yesterday.

He exited the room and found himself in a long hallway with doors lining each side, equally spaced, as far as he could tell. At the far end of the hall to his right, Harry could see a door that looked like it led outside. And to his left, the hall ended in an open doorway, through which he could hear indistinct voices.

Guess that settles which way to go, he thought as he began to walk toward the noise. As he passed through the opening, he was surprised by the small group of people he could see gathered in what looked like some sort of sitting room. Whatever Malcolm, Michelle and Peter's wife, Heather, were discussing, it obviously had their full attention, as none of them noticed when he entered the room.

"The sleeper emerges!" a familiar voice joked from behind him, causing the quiet conversation in front of him to stop as everyone turned to look at where Harry was standing. Harry turned to see Chad standing just a few feet back, holding a glass of what looked like lemonade.

"Hey, Chad. How long was I asleep?" Harry inquired.

The American glanced at his watch. "Well, it's 2:30 now. Not sure what time you got here; I was already asleep."

Harry frowned. "And where is here? I don't recognize this place."

It was Malcolm Prewett who answered that question. "Temporary housing we had built a few weeks ago at our new, elite magical village. Which we still need a name for," he added. "We had to rush out and buy some furniture, but it at least gives us all a place to stay until we figure out our next step."

Harry frowned. "You're all staying here? What about your homes?"

"Until we know who is being targeted by the Ministry, it's safest for us all to stay here," Michelle explained.

"The Ministry came after some of you?" To say that Harry was shocked would be an understatement. "How would they even know who you are? We've been careful not to have any real link between us."

Chad shook his head. "We don't know for sure, but Mac thinks that it has something to do with the first attack on your life over the summer. Umbridge's pet assassin was obviously watching you closely in order to slip that sabotaged potion in your room without anyone realizing. Wouldn't surprise me if he got a good look at our little organization."

"So, have they actually gone after anyone else, or are you just being cautious?" Harry asked, a little afraid of the answer.

All eyes turned to look at Heather, who sighed. "You're going to hear it sooner or later. The Ministry burned our house down," she said heavily. "Luckily, Peter had me take the boys to my brother's house when you first sent out the warning that they might be after us, so we're all fine, but the house and everything in it are gone."

This hit Harry like a punch to the gut, and he fell back heavily onto one of the couches. "Heather, I'm… I'm sorry. I thought we were being careful enough, I never meant…"

"It's not your fault, Harry," Heather interjected, shaking her head. "It's all the Ministry and Umbridge. You're doing the right thing trying to fix it all, and I'm glad that Peter and I could be a part of it. I wish it hadn't happened, but homes can be rebuilt. If that's the price to fix the corruption in our government, it's worth paying." Her face twisted into a wry smile. "Though it's lucky we didn't have this discussion yesterday. I wasn't in quite as good of a mood then."

"Are your boys here?" Harry asked.

Heather nodded. "They're playing outside, now. It's kind of an adventure for them. Living in London, they don't get much chance to see the countryside, so we're making the most of it."

"Still, I'm so sorry," Harry tried to apologize, but Heather wasn't having any of it.

"As I said before, it's not your fault. We all underestimated the lengths people like Umbridge and Fudge would go to in order to keep their power."

"Has anyone else been hurt or…" Harry tried to think of the right word. "Impacted," he finally settled on, "by Umbridge's attack on me?"

At this, all four adults exchanged glances. Harry's blood ran cold at the somber looks on their faces. "Six non-magicals were Kissed by dementors last night," Chad replied with obvious reluctance. "He would have found out eventually!" The American protested as the others glared at him.

"You still could have found some way to soften the blow," Michelle muttered.

Harry ignored their squabbling, too focused on his own guilt to care what they were saying. It's all my fault. I knew the Ministry wouldn't just let our attacks go.

His thoughts must have been very obvious. "You can't blame yourself, Harry," Malcolm said gently.

"Of course I can. People are dead because of me. Or, as good as dead," the teen retorted.

"No, they're dead because the Ministry is corrupt," Michelle responded immediately. "And, while I realize this is cold comfort, six lives lost is a very small price to pay compared to the devastation that Britain will face if You-Know-Who returns and the Ministry is not prepared to face him."

"Tell that to their families," Harry said softly as he stood and left the room.

One of the best advantages of Timeland, Harry had realized long ago, was that it was like a home away from home he could carry in his pocket. And at times like this when he wanted to be alone, it was perfect.

He kept plenty of food for several days stockpiled in stasis, so there was no need for him to return to the real world anytime soon. Instead, he passed the time exercising, studying, or working on projects like his combat suit that had been pushed to the side with all the craziness of the past few months. Anything to keep his mind off what had happened, and the price that he had inadvertently forced others to pay.

But no matter how much he tried to distract himself, he couldn't stop the doubts and regrets that crept in. He had thought he had such a clever plan, and just like last year with his godfather, others had died because of his actions.

This thought just spurred him on even more.

Still, he couldn't stay in Timeland forever. And so, it was with no small degree of reluctance that Harry finally emerged back in the small, sparsely furnished room he had retreated to just a few hours ago. With a sigh, he flung himself down on the bed, staring up, unseeing, at the ceiling above him. With nothing to do, nothing to keep his mind occupied, all the guilt and doubt returned once more in force.

A knock sounded at the door, startling Harry out of his self-recriminations. "Come in," he called, leaning up to see who it was.

A mischievous face framed with bright pink hair appeared through the opening. "Oh, good, you're not naked. That would be awkward," Tonks joked.

"I said you could come in. I wouldn't have done that if I weren't dressed," Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

His visitor just shrugged. "Well, you never know, some guys like that sort of thing," she said, waggling her eyebrows as she entered.

Harry found himself blushing but couldn't come up with a good response. "Thanks for the help last night," he finally said, trying to find a safer topic.

"No problem. Couldn't leave my new boss to get his soul sucked out or killed by Gibbon and his lot," Tonks replied cheerfully.

Harry let out a sound of amusement halfway between a laugh and a scoff. "How did we even get here anyway? I don't really remember much."

"Mac and I decided it wouldn't be wise to bring you here the normal way in case they scryed for your location while we were nearby, so I had a miniaturized trunk with a vanishing cabinet inside, kind of like we used during the raid on the Dahlia."

Harry nodded. That made sense.

Silence reigned for a few minutes.

"So," Tonks said, her tone brightening as she changed the subject. "That was quite the patronus. I'm impressed, not even all the Aurors can cast one."

"It took me long enough," Harry countered, somewhat bitterly. "I've been trying for months now. Finally got it last night."

"Can you cast it now?"

Harry frowned. That's a good question. Grabbing his wand, the teen concentrated, trying to remember the feeling of determination that had filled him the night before. It seemed to come easier this time. Finally, he cast the spell.

A large blob of white mist shot out of his wand, quickly taking the form of a large, quadrupedal animal with horns. It looked strong and powerful, but, to Harry's disappointment, it just didn't seem quite right.

"What's wrong?" Tonks asked as she sat down next to Harry.

"I don't know," Harry admitted with a sigh. "I guess… everything I've read says that the form a patronus takes is something significant or special to the caster. That it matches their personality somehow, but I don't even know what that is," he said, gesturing to the animal in front of him.

Tonks looked thoughtfully at the misty creature. "I think it's a buffalo," the Auror in training said slowly. "But I would have to double check on that."

Harry looked at her in surprise. "You don't seem like the type of person to spend time studying animals," he commented dubiously.

Rather than taking offense, Tonks just laughed. "I'm certainly not a zoologist, but you can learn a lot from animals. It helps to give me ideas for ways I can use my metamorph abilities." Her smile turned slightly smug. "I can give myself eagle eyes that enable me to read a newspaper from a block away, or change the shape of my pupils and add a reflective lining to the back of my eyes that lets me see better at night. Better hearing, better sense of smell, faster reflexes… I just have to learn how animals do it, then figure out a way to replicate that."

"Anyways," the pink-haired woman continued, "Dan's on his way back with news from a meeting at the Foundation. He stopped to get some pizza, so he'll be here in ten or fifteen minutes. Peter suggested that we have a meeting after we eat, to figure out where we go from here."

Harry nodded somberly as Tonks stood and exited the room. That was certainly something that would require some discussion. He began mentally composing the apologies that he would offer everyone, but eventually gave up the attempt. They're being hunted by the Ministry. Peter and Heather's house has been destroyed, and we have no idea who's next.

How do you apologize for something like that?

To Harry's surprise, everyone seemed to be in good spirits as they all gathered in the large dining area, helping themselves to slices of the half a dozen large pizzas with various toppings Dan had brought.

Soon, Heather was leading the Wilson boys off to bed, enticing them with the promise of reading an extra chapter of their story that night to head off any complaints at having to turn in early, leaving just the adults and Harry.

"Before we start talking about the latest news," Harry began, his voice heavy with contrition, "I just want to say to you all that I'm sorry. I should have…" his voice trailed off has he tried to think of what to say.

"Harry, do you think we're stupid?" Connor asked with startling brusqueness.

"What? No!" Harry replied immediately.

"Then why are you apologizing? We all knew that something like this was a possibility. We did our best to minimize the risks, but, as you said, we're not stupid. We all knew there was a chance something could go wrong. So, stop blaming yourself. You gave us sufficient warning to get everyone out safely. Now, we just need to figure out what we do from here."

To Harry's surprise, everyone else in the room seemed to agree with the Scottish man's statement.

Harry didn't want to let it go that easily, but Peter cut him off before he could say anything else. "It's not your fault, Harry. Now we need to figure out how we should respond. Dan, can you tell us about your meeting?"

Dan Falkenson nodded. "For those of you that didn't hear, I was contacted by Lucius Malfoy early this morning who arranged for a meeting with Fudge, Umbridge, and a few of their fellow conspirators. They want my assistance in dealing with the current unrest in magical Britain. Not surprisingly, there are a great many people who don't trust what the Ministry is saying. This is primarily in regard to how quickly Umbridge was found innocent of any wrongdoing, and the hunt for Harry. Not anywhere near a majority, granted, but still, a significant number of people have realized that the accusations against Harry are false, and are correctly surmising that the Ministry is just trying to silence one of their most famous and vocal critics. The fact that most of the students at Hogwarts seem to support Harry and utterly despise Umbridge has certainly helped to further that opinion. There were riots in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, with some people even firing spells at the Aurors who were called in."

"Do we know what the Ministry's response is going to be?" Michelle asked.

"From what I could tell, it sounds like they're just going to keep trying more of the same," Dan replied with obvious disapproval. "They have the Daily Prophet firmly under their thumb, so they think if they keep repeating the same story over and over, people will eventually believe it."

"That's all they're doing? Just a propaganda war?" Peter asked disbelievingly.

"For now, yes. I was able to convince Fudge not to go overboard," Dan said, frowning. "But I don't know how much longer I'll be able to prevent him from doing something very… stupid. The Ministry has already begun arresting protestors. Umbridge was pushing for anyone who spoke out against the current administration to be arrested for sedition. Fudge, at least, wasn't willing to go quite that far, but it's obvious that he's desperate. He knows that his ship is sinking fast, and he'll do anything to save himself."

"Like sending dementors into a muggle city to chase a teenager," Tonks muttered.

"Why isn't the Wizengamot doing anything?" Michelle wondered.

"They don't want to upset the applecart," Malcolm replied scathingly. "Most people don't realize just how precarious magical Britain's financial system is. People like Lucius Malfoy have enough money to completely throw the economy into chaos, but at the same time, if the majority of the population rises against the Ministry, things could get ugly very quickly. They're probably hoping the problem goes away without them having to intervene on one side or the other."

"And even if they did choose to intervene, they would spend months debating which particular course of action would be best," Peter pointed out. "Without a clear demonstration of which side has the power, they're just going to sit there spinning their wheels. It's safer for them that way."

"Does this impact our plans for the citizen's award?" Harry asked.

"No," Dan replied, shaking his head. "Or, at least, not in a bad way. Malfoy was suggesting that the award could be used to dispel many of the accusations against the Ministry. I've let it slip that he's practically guaranteed to be given the award, so he very casually brought it up as a possible way to distract people from the current problems if it was announced sometime soon."

"What about the prison?" Harry continued. "Will this cause any delay in getting the Death Eaters into our custody?"

"Again, no. We should be ready for the transfers by the end of next week."

"How many are we getting?" Chad asked.

"Eight," Peter responded. "All three Lestranges, Rookwood, Dolohov, Travers, Mulciber and Selwyn."

The discussion continued around him, but Harry wasn't paying much attention. Instead, all his thoughts were on the scheme he had come up with to use the Foundation for the Future to expose Malfoy's crimes. The longer we delay, the more likely something will go wrong, he realized. The public thought that the Foundation supported the Ministry. All it would take is one riot going out of control and everything they had worked for and planned on would be thrown into jeopardy.

The only reason we were delaying was to get the Death Eaters in our new prison. Once we have them, that's no longer a concern, even if we haven't had time to interrogate them yet. As he considered this, Harry turned his attention back to the debate taking place around him.

"Their control of the Daily Prophet is going to be difficult to overcome. Veritas is getting more and more common, but a lot of people will trust what they read in the Prophet over what we say in our paper," Peter cautioned.

"It's like that Mark Twain quote," Chad added. "Never pick a fight with someone who buys ink by the barrel."

"That's not entirely true," Dan countered, his mouth twisted into a speculative grin. "There is someone who can fight your hypothetical ink-barrel purchaser."

It was at this point that Harry cut in. "Our only reason for delaying the trap with the Foundation was so that we could interrogate the Death Eaters. Can we have them in our prison next week?" he asked, looking at Peter, who nodded. "Then there's no reason to delay," the teen continued, his voice firm. "Tell Lucius Malfoy that we'll give him his award, say, next Monday. But we won't stop at just Malfoy's crimes. We can reveal Umbridge's actions as well, along with many of the other Inner Circle Death Eaters that weren't imprisoned after the war. We make sure that everyone knows the truth about these people. Once the truth is out there, the Wizengamot will be forced to act."

"What about the Prophet?" Malcom asked.

"Dan, you were about to say something before I cut you off," Harry prompted.

"Go for the supply lines," the dark-haired man said simply. "The best person to pick a fight with someone who buys ink by the barrel is the person who sells that ink. With such short notice, it might be difficult, but if we can buy the companies that supply the paper and ink for the Prophet, then threaten to cut them off completely if they don't play ball, they'll be forced to follow our orders until they can find a new supplier. It's a trick that will only work once, but it should keep them in line for at least a few weeks."

"Surely the Prophet would have stockpiles of necessary supplies," Michelle said, frowning.

"I'm sure they do, but I would be surprised if it was enough to keep them running for weeks on end," Dan replied. "And if we could find out where they keep those stockpiles and destroy or steal them, that would eliminate even that concern."

"Kind of a waste to buy two companies just to run them into the ground," Malcolm pointed out. "Wouldn't blackmail on the Chief Editor be easier?"

"We can find other ways to use those companies later," Peter pointed out. "For now, I think it's a good idea. Blackmailing the editor could come back to hurt us later. But buying out a company to put pressure on a rival is just business. Sure, some people may object afterward, but there's no actual law against it, unlike blackmail. It's just a question of whether or not the owners are willing to sell."

"I can look into that," Malcolm agreed.

"Before we move forward with this, I want to hear what everyone thinks," Harry stated. "I'm the one paying for this all, which pretty much makes me the boss, but if the past few days have proven anything, it's that I can make some big mistakes. So, if anyone has any concerns about this course of action, I want to know about it."

Harry thought he saw Peter frowning at him out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked over, there was no sign of disapproval on his second-in-command's face. "I think it's a good idea," the man said. "We've got an ace up our sleeve, and now is the perfect time to play it."

Chad spoke up next. "A lot of people are pissed at the Ministry right now. It'll only take a small push and Fudge will be gone. I say let's do it."

The others in the room nodded, but it was Michelle who voiced their opinions. "There's nothing to be gained by waiting. It's a good plan."

Though Harry was grateful that everyone supported his decision, he couldn't completely suppress the sudden spike of fear that somehow this, too, would backfire. Ignoring that, he pressed on. "Then that's what we'll do. If we intend to have the award ceremony next Monday, that gives us eight days to prepare. We need a plan."

The discussion continued long into the night. When the meeting finally ended hours later, there was a grim look of satisfaction on everyone's face. There was still a great deal of work to be done, but they were confident that it would work.

Despite the long list of tasks needing to be done in preparation for the big event, Harry found that there was very little that he could actually do to help. While it was unlikely that the Ministry was still trying to scry for his locations, the Trace was presumably still active, which meant that not only could he not do any magic outside of the protections Connor had established, he couldn't be around anyone using magic, either, which meant that while the others were rushing to complete their assigned tasks, he was stuck in the small building they were using as their temporary headquarters.

Of course, he did his best to make himself useful, going over the program with Dan and Peter and helping to compile the questions that Malfoy would be forced to answer. At the end of the day, however, he was left with a feeling of inadequacy. He wanted to be doing more, but there just wasn't a way.

It was a very frustrated teen who returned to his room that evening. I might as well unpack my trunk. That way I can at least say I did something productive today, he thought bitterly. With a sigh, he set to work hanging his clothes in the closet. Due to the almost complete lack of furniture in the room, there wasn't much else to do, but he did grab a few books to put on the nightstand, realizing as he did that he hadn't spent much time reading for pleasure in the past few months. I should do that more, he decided, glancing over once more at the small pile of books.

To his amusement, the top book was the one that Luna had given him for Christmas – The Merlinian Discourses. He picked it up, studying the worn cover closely. Inside, he found the note Luna had included, which he had placed in the front cover. He still wasn't sure what his rather eccentric friend had meant when she wrote that the book would 'help him fulfill his destiny', but it made him smile anyway.

The sound of someone knocking on the door drew his attention, and he placed the book back on the pile with the others. "Come in," he called, then was struck with a sense of déjà vu as Tonks' head appeared in the doorway.

"Still not naked, huh?" she asked.

"Are you going to keep coming to my room each night until I am?" Harry inquired suspiciously.

Tonks just smirked. "Who knows?"

Harry groaned. "Does that door lock? I really should check."

Tonks opened the door fully and took a seat on the bed, looking at him with an expression that was a curious mix of excitement and sincerity. "So, I did a little bit of research on your patronus," she began. "Can I see it one more time?"

A little surprised by this abrupt change of topic, Harry shrugged and cast the spell, noting absentmindedly that it seemed to be getting easier each time.

Tonks studied the animal closely before turning back to him with a grin. "Yep, I was right, it's a buffalo. More precisely, it's a Cape buffalo, from Africa. You can tell by the shape of the horns and the way they kind of come together there on the top of the head," she said, gesturing to a bony-looking mound above the animal's eyes.

Harry grunted. "While that's interesting to know, I'm not sure why you wanted to tell me. Great, I have an African buffalo for my patronus. It's not a…" he trailed off.

Tonks peered at him shrewdly. "What kind of animal were you expecting?" she asked.

"I don't know. Something that had some sort of significance to me, I guess," he said with a sigh and no small degree of reluctance. "My dad's patronus and animagus forms were a stag, and when my mum learned the spell, her patronus was a doe. In her diary, she wrote that my dad just wouldn't shut up about how that proved that they were soul mates and such."

Tonks snickered. "Was that before or after they were married?"

"While they were engaged," Harry replied.

"So, you feel like your patronus should be an animal that has some sort of connection to you?" There was a curious tone in Tonks' voice that made Harry look at her in confusion.

"Yes," he said slowly, frowning suspiciously at the smile on her face.

"Y'know, I did some research on Cape buffalos," the pink-haired Auror began. "I think there's more of a connection there than you realize."

"With a buffalo from Africa?" Harry didn't even try to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

"There are five animals that are considered the 'big game' that people travel to Africa to hunt. Lions, leopards, elephants, rhinos, and cape buffalos."

"Yay, my spirit animal is famous for being hunted," Harry said in mock celebration. "I guess that fits," he added in an undertone.

"Yes, it gets hunted, but that's not what's significant about it," Tonks continued, though Harry wasn't sure if she was ignoring his second statement, or simply hadn't heard it. "You see, when you first look at it, you would think that the buffalo would be the least dangerous of the five. I mean, seriously, in comparison to lions or elephants, a buffalo just doesn't seem that threatening. But that's completely wrong. Hunters consider the buffalo to be the most dangerous of those animals."

Despite himself, Harry couldn't help but be intrigued by her words. He glanced over, a questioning look on his face.

Seemingly pleased that she had his full attention, Tonks continued. "You see, most animals will try to flee from a predator. The cape buffalo, however, does the opposite. When a hunter takes that shot, he'd better pray that it kills the buffalo, because if not, his prey will turn around and hunt him. Cape buffalo have been known to fight off lions and crocodiles, and ambush and gore human pursuers. With other animals, if you wound it, the worst-case scenario is it gets away. But with a buffalo, once you attack it, you have to kill it, or it'll kill you. That's the reason it's been given the nickname 'the Widowmaker'."

Harry remained silent, thinking through what she had just said.

"And," Tonks continued with a note of finality, "unlike its cousin the water buffalo, the Cape buffalo has never been domesticated." She looked at him, one eyebrow raised, then turned back to the misty animal in front of them. "You try and control it, and it'll break free or die trying." She stood, and walked to the door before turning to look back at him. "Personally, I think that all fits you pretty well."

The door closed quietly as Tonks left, but Harry hardly paid it any attention. Instead, he was still focused on the patronus in front of him. A small grin spread slowly across his face as he thought back on the Auror's words.

Voldemort tried to kill me. He failed, and now I'm going to kill him. Umbridge took her shot and missed. She's going down. And I'll never submit to Dumbledore.

"Break free or die trying," he said softly, repeating Tonks' words. That sounded about right.

He didn't start the fights he found himself in, but he was certainly going to end them. As this thought flitted through his mind, his patronus lowered its head as though getting ready to charge. It reminded him of a quote he had once heard, somewhere. No one provokes me with impunity.

A grim resolve filled him, and Harry found himself smiling as he looked at the glowing animal. Though he was being hunted, he wasn't just going to slink off into the night. He would strike back in a way they never saw coming. In just a few days, his enemies would realize what a grave mistake they had made in targeting him.