Chapter 38 - Missing Part 1

Despite the excitement of it, there was ample trepidation as the meeting Hermione had organised was about to start in an hour. Harry would not say he was an introvert, but across the spectrum, he certainly leaned slightly towards it, talking to a crowd was not an appealing idea. Hermione said that she would invite a few but knowing how words can spread through Hogwarts, Harry was bracing himself for the worst.

The Hog's Head was nowhere within the reputable part of Hogsmeade, clinging more to the seedier corners of the village. However, Hermione was right about the pub being more secluded, Harry highly doubted that Umbridge would wonder anywhere near the establishment. The pub consisted mainly of the oddballs that Hagrid had frequently spoken of. However, the young girl his age seated in a corner with a drink in one hand and a book in the other stood out.

"Anne?" Harry called out as he made his way over.

"In the flesh," Anya muttered casually.

"You came!" Harry smiled, he had hoped she would come but honestly feared that she would opt out of a large gathering. From his observations, Anne was never one to stick in a large crowd.

"Evidently," Anya cracked a grin. "It's starting in a while, right?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, taking a seat beside her. "Oh, this is Ron and Hermione."

His two friends had followed his cue and grabbed the chairs opposite of them. Anya briefly glanced at the two of them before giving him a look which seemed to judge him for giving another unnecessary introduction. Harry winced slightly, sure she may know Ron and Hermione, but this was the first time meeting properly.

"Anya Seryy, a pleasure," Anya said flatly, seemingly deciding on going along with Harry.

"Of course," Hermione smiled. "Did you manage to finish Professor Babbling's assignment? The one on the Maya glyphs?"

Just like that, the two delved into a small discussion about Runes, with Hermione doing most of the talking. Harry had forgotten that Hermione got to share classes with Anne, with Runes having a class that accommodated students from all houses. Ron looked perfectly content to stay out from the conversation, being uncomfortable with Anne's presence.

"You know what?" Ron leaned over to Harry. "I bet we could order anything here, I've always wanted to try Firewhisky. You want me to get you one as-"

"Ron, you are a perfect," Hermione snarled, breaking off from her conversation.

"Seryy's drinking," Ron pointed out, flinching at Anya's stare.

Harry looked at the glass in Anya's hand and noticed its amber coloured contents, Ron was not mistaken. Hermione did a double take and immediately looked scandalised. "Seryy, you are underage."

Knowing Anne, Harry doubted his sister gave a damn, a fact eloquently displayed when she ignored Hermione's words and took a sip. Ron seemed inclined to follow in Anne's footsteps, making an attempt to raise the barkeep's attention but was stopped by Hermione. Needless to say, it was still disconcerting to watch one's younger sister consume alcohol.

"Should you really?" Harry grimaced.

"You're organising a meeting of dubious nature with me being the only Slytherin," Anya responded. "Call it preparation."

"That's unhealthy."

"I wouldn't get sloshed."

"Not the point," Harry sighed. "Hermione, how many people did you invite?"

"Just a few," Hermione replied, keeping a firm grip and Ron's collar as the redhead stared at Anya's glass enviously.

"Also, we're being watched," Anya commented casually.

"What? Who?" Harry looked around, Ron and Hermione were just as startled.

"That witch in the corner with the veil," Anya took a sip. "And stop looking around in panic, that's what tells them they're exposed."

The three Gryffindors instantly snapped their head back and flushed in embarrassment.

"I told you that was Umbridge," Ron muttered.

"It's not," Anya shook her head.

"Then who?" Hermione asked.

Anya stared at Harry. It took him a while, but Harry finally got the hint. He had been watched and followed all summer by the Order, it should not have been a surprise that they would do the same here.

Harry leaned over to Ron and Hermione and whispered. "I think they're from the Order, they were following me all summer."

"How could you be sure?" Hermione whispered back.

"Call it a gut feeling," Harry replied, he had no intention of revealing a clue on his summertime meetings with Anne.

"Well, your gut's usually right," Ron shrugged, trying to catch a glimpse of the witch without being caught. "I wonder who it is though?"

Hermione still looked uncertain but did not raise any issues. Soon, the door of the pub opened and Harry cringed at the crowd of students that entered. It was a diverse crowd, from the young Creevey brothers to a seventh-year Ravenclaw. There were familiar faces, but just as many unfamiliar ones.

"Just a few?" Harry asked sardonically, glaring at Hermione.

"Okay... I guess word spreads fast," Hermione shrugged sheepishly. "Ron, I think we should pull up some more chairs."

The barkeep stared at the crowd that stood before him as a cheerful Fred promptly ordered more bottles of Butterbeer than was probably sold in a normal week at the establishment.

"What am I exactly supposed to say?" Harry muttered to Hermione as Fred passed the Butterbeer.

"I just told them to hear you out," Hermione replied. "It's alright Harry, I'll start."

"Well- er... hi, can everyone hear me?"

The chattering ceased as people turned their attention to Hermione.

"Well, Harry here- I mean, I decided to gather everyone here who wanted to study Defence because... well, Umbridge has been a terrible teacher."

Laughter broke out across the students and Hermione looked a lot more confident.

"And I thought it would be a good idea if we took it to our own hands," Hermione continued. "And not just learning the theory but also practical application because we should start learning to defend ourselves."

"And score well in the OWLs too, I bet," said a Ravenclaw.

"Of course," Hermione replied. "But also because... Voldemort is back."

The gasp and shrieks at hearing the name was expected but Hermione ploughed on. "With that in mind-"

"Where's proof that You-Know-Who is back?" said a blond Hufflepuff at the side. "All we have is Potter's word."

Attention turned to Harry who simply sighed, he had a feeling this was coming and he was having none of it. He glanced at Anya, who had abandoned her book in favour of watching the scene, smirking at him. Great, now he was obligated to look cool in front of his sister.

"If you don't trust my word, then you could show yourself out," Harry gestured to the door calmly, staring evenly at the Hufflepuff. "We're not here to share stories but to get things done."

"Well said, Harry!" Fred hollered from the back.

"Carry on, Hermione!" George followed up.

That seemed to do the trick as the Hufflepuff backed down, shifting uneasily at the now unwanted attention. Hermione, much more heartened than before, carried on explaining the idea of a study group for Defence centred around Harry teaching them. Harry had expected protests from others, especially that Hufflepuff that tried to challenge him. Surprisingly, everyone seemed more than happy to have him teaching, citing the various feats he had accomplished as though it was some sort of strange résumé. However, it was only a matter of time before the thing he hoped to avoid happened.

"Also, what is she doing here?" the same Hufflepuff - whose name Harry found out to be Zacharias Smith - asked suspiciously. "She's been here the whole time."

The person in question was Anya, who now had the undivided attention of all the students. She did not seem perturbed in the slightest, opting to take another sip of her drink.

"Yeah, she's Slytherin," someone cried out. "Wouldn't she rat us out to Umbridge?"

Anya simply looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow in a silent comment which Harry could guess as 'what are you going to do now?'

"Seryy is joining too," Harry declared. "She's interested and I don't give a damn what house she's from."

"Your girlfriend's got you wrapped around her fingers?" Zacharias snorted.

Ron looked absolutely disgusted at the statement while Anya snorted silently into her drink. Harry recalled Astoria's words back then and grimaced.

"You ought to spend less time wallowing in the rumour mill, Smith," Harry retorted. "I trust her. I doubt many will have my back when surrounded by acromantulas."

A silence settled into the pub as the students eyed Anya uncomfortably but also with recognition that this was in fact, the Junior Champion for the Triwizard Tournament.

"Besides, the Sorting Hat called for unity between houses. Isn't that right?" Hermione smiled feebly, attempting to diffuse the situation. "This is a first step towards it..."

Murmurs of agreements went around the crowd, though they were not completely convinced. Harry heaved a sigh of relief, it was not as bad as he expected.

"Well, once we have a time and place for the first meeting, we'll send a message around," said Hermione, steering the topic back on track. She opened the clasps of her bag and pulled out a sheet of parchment. "I think it'll be best if we all sign our names here. It'll be a... an agreement, to not divulge any of this to Professor Umbridge."

Many had no objections and some were happy to sign on the parchment, though a few were hesitant. Zacharias Smith in particular was reluctant when the parchment was handed to him.

"I dunno, what if Umbridge found this?"

"You'd think I leave this lying around?" Hermione countered testily.

"Fine," Zacharias huffed. "But if anything, Seryy's signing first. If she does, then I will."

Harry seethed in silence. Would that person just not shut up about Anne? But that was more than enough to grab everyone's attention. Then again, Harry grudgingly acknowledged that there was some symbolic significance in the sole Slytherin signing the parchment.

The parchment was passed along until Luna Lovegood, who appeared to be the only one brave enough, slid the parchment in front of Anya. Anya accepted a quill from Hermione and looked at the parchment. For seconds, she stared at the parchment blankly as the student watched in confusion. Harry doubted that there was anyone else in the room who could pick up her minute nonverbal cues, but his sister let out a silent snort of amusement before signing the parchment. She passed the parchment to Hermione with twinkling mischief in her eyes. Hermione took the parchment and passed it on, but there was no denying a slight look of guilt on the Gryffindor's face.

Thankfully, Anya's signing of the parchment seemed to settle any doubt and the rest signed without complaints before saying their goodbyes and leaving in their groups. Hermione looked satisfied as she rolled up the parchment and stowed it back into her bag.

"Head back to Hogwarts with us?" Harry suggested.

"No thanks," Anya set down her empty glass. "I'm meeting up with Astoria. Thanks for the hospitality."

"Uh... yeah, see you soon."

With that, Anya stood up and gave a soft clap on Harry's shoulder before leaving the place.

"Should we leave too?" Hermione suggested.

They began their trek back to Hogwarts at Hermione's suggestion, forgoing the carriages in favour of a walk and discussing about their newly established group. It was just as they reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade that a thought hit Harry.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"What did you do to the parchment?" Harry asked.

The look of guilt he had seen reappear once more was a good enough indication to confirm his suspicions.

"Nothing much, really... I mean... I did jinx the parchment," Hermione admitted.

"You what!?" Ron turned around in shock.

"Oh, it's not that bad. Just a little jinx to let us know who's the snitch," Hermione replied sheepishly. "It wouldn't be of any harm unless you intend on being a tattletale."

"Guess I'll be staring at that Zacharias Smith all morning," Ron laughed. "What does the jinx do?"

"You'll know it when you see it, if you see it, which hopefully we don't," said Hermione. "Also, how did you even guess?"

"I saw the look on Anne's face, I suspect she's magically sensitive," Harry shrugged.

If anything, her reaction to the jinxed parchment was enough evidence of his hypothesis regarding Anne's abilities.

"There was a look on her face?"

"Magically sensitive?"

"Come on, Ron," Harry chuckled. "She may not be all smiles but she isn't that expressionless. And yes, Hermione, I guess. I'm not too sure, but with the time I've spent around her, I'm getting that feeling."

"Well, I've read that great wizards and witches are able to detect and perceive magic," Hermione rambled. "Professor Dumbledore is supposed to have high magical sensitivity. And I've read some books about Merlin that he was able to sense magic from one league away, translating that into modern units is almost five kilometres."

Hermione's all-too-familiar rambling went on throughout their journey back as Harry once again thought about his current situation. Sure, the Ministry and a significant portion of the Wizarding World was calling him out as a liar. But on the other hand, the Order of Phoenix was already combating Voldemort. Just as importantly, Anne was opening up. It might be just a matter of time before he could convince her to stay in Britain.

XXXXX

"Sir, do you get the strange feeling that we're being watched?"

Captain Andrew Morgan turned back to appraise his subordinate. The sergeant was a reliable team member but a bit of an odd man, frequently seen talking about the occult, earning him more than one nickname. However, out here in the Brecon Beacons - a mountain range in South Wales - with full military gear for training, Morgan knew the sergeant was serious.

Hearing those words, Morgan surveyed the empty mountains, there was nobody in the area except for them and the three other four-men teams in their troop. It was supposed to be an exercise to refresh on mountain warfare and whoever planned it clearly wanted them to relive bad memories, there were many cynical comments about 'selection' when his men found out they were heading to Brecon Beacons.

"Odd you should say that," Morgan replied wearily, feeling a chill down his spine. "I'm getting that feeling too."

As far as he knew, they were supposed to be the only unit conducting training in this part of the area. Morgan held up a hand and the team stopped, his men instinctively took up positions to cover all directions. He had learned to trust his gut feeling and this time, the uncanny feeling of being watched grew stronger and stronger. The sergeant was not wrong, Morgan could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing.

"Sir, do you mind checking your watch? Make sure it's just my watch that's acting up or that I'm not the one going crazy?"

Morgan bit down a sigh before he humoured the sergeant, his eyes flickered down to his wristwatch for a brief moment before he did a double take. The numbers on the digital watch were flashing erratically, displaying random numbers and sometimes just segments of a number.

"Electronic countermeasures?" Morgan thought aloud. "Or an electromagnetic pulse? None should affect a watch like that."

"Maybe sergeant's creepy talk is finally coming true," a trooper suggested, glancing at his watch as well. "This is not normal."

"Miller, get over here," Morgan called out. "I'll try a comms check with HQ."

Another man came up beside him, a radio set strapped to his backpack. Morgan grabbed the handset and pressed the push-to-talk button.

"Apollo, this is bravo-one-one, comms check. Over."

Static filled his ears, the radio was dead. The weather was clear, there was no reason for there to be a lack of signal and a few minutes ago, they were still receiving transmissions from headquarters. Morgan tried contacting the other teams scattered around the mountain, but the attempt was fruitless. Morgan scowled, there was definitely something jamming the radio signals. A sense of unease settled around the team, despite the calm there was a peculiar feeling of being cut off.

"Sir, maybe we link up with one-two?" the sergeant suggested.

It sounded like a sound idea, Morgan got the feeling they were not alone in the mountains. Coupled with the fact that something was jamming their radio, he could conclude the whole scenario was suspicious. An infiltration by hostile elements into British soil seemed too unlikely, but nonetheless a possibility. The sole consolation was that the M16 rifles in their hands were backed with live ammunition.

Suddenly, a weight pressed against his shoulder. Morgan turned and saw Miller slouching against him, his unconscious body limp. Warning bells rang in his head as adrenaline filled his bloodstream. Before he could react a thump filled his ears and he looked back, the trooper who was looking at his watch fell unconscious as well. It was just him and the sergeant, he could only think of one possibility.

"Gas masks on!"

There was a hasty scramble to bring out their gas masks but Morgan feared it was too late. Another thump was indication he was the last man left, he did not even sense the embrace of unconsciousness before he fell onto the ground as well. Just before he did, his eyes registered masked men appearing from thin air around them.

XXXXX

Dobby did not have what one would call a clean track record, but as Harry pulled open the door that magically appeared on the seventh floor - opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy - and stepped inside, he was undeniably impressed. Come and Go Room or Room of Requirement, whatever it was called, was undoubtedly the most jaw dropping feature of Hogwarts that Harry had discovered, in his eyes trumping over the Chamber of Secrets. This one had functionality and no Basilisk.

Ron and Hermione followed him, staring at the spacious room, the bookshelves and the various dark detectors scattered around. In the first few minutes, the three gushed about the various features of the room but that was cut short when the doors opened and the other students entered. The Gryffindors in his year came first followed by the rest, his eyes swivelled to the door each time it opened and as the cushions around the room became more occupied, he got more worried. Needless to say, it was a sigh of relief when his sister finally entered, the last one on the list. Harry shook his head, Anne was either late or way too early, nothing in between.

Speaking of Anne, her hint about an Order member spying on them turned out to be true. He, along with Ron and Hermione, found out when Sirius decided to Floo to the Gryffindor common room. The support from his godfather certainly gave him a morale boost.

"Anya, lock the door behind you," Harry called out.

Anya nodded and twisted the key attached to the door, causing a satisfying click. She withdrew the key and tossed it to Harry before finding a seat in a corner of the room.

"So... this is the place we found," Harry gestured. "It should be good."

"It's brilliant," said Cho.

"How'd you even find a place like this?" Neville asked.

"Searching around," Harry shrugged. "I'm surprised Fred and George haven't found this."

"I think we did," said Fred, looking at the high ceiling. "Much different from what we saw, didn't realise it was a special place, just thought it was a broom cupboard when we came here trying to hide from Filch."

"Well, we should get started," said Harry. "I've been think about what spells we should-"

"Er... before that, Harry," Hermione stood up. "I think we should settle some administrative issues first. First, we should decide on a leader."

Harry found it a bit pointless, especially when it was unanimously agreed that he was the leader, but he could not deny it was a boost of encouragement. Then came deciding on a group name, Harry did not know whether to laugh or gag when people decided on 'Dumbledore's Army'. His relations with the headmaster was quite strained, but he did not pass a chance to poke fun at the Ministry and Umbridge with that name.

The lesson began proper and Harry decided to start with the Disarming Spell, splitting people into pairs. It easily drew hesitance from some of the people, but once Harry saw the weak foundation many of the students had, he knew it was a right start. A great number of them already had questionable aim, which was expected when spellcasting in class had the target sitting on the desk in front of them. Errant spells had frequently caused people to duck. Some simply did not cast the spells strong enough, their magic causing their opponent to merely flinch.

There were those like Hermione and the Weasley twins who had no problems with the spell casting. Anne was another one, casting the spell lazily and throwing the wand back to the owner. Nobody seemed eager to pair up with the Slytherin, except for her current partner who did not seem uncomfortable in the Slytherin's presence, Luna Lovegood. But with what he had seen of Luna, the statement can be equally applied to the Ravenclaw.

"How are things going?" Harry asked, making his way over to check on their performance as he did with the others.

"Making me question how I spend my time," Anya replied nonchalantly, barely wincing as Luna's spell hit her.

"Yeah, sorry," Harry rubbed the back of head. "This is probably dead boring compared to what we do."

"Don't get me wrong," said Anya, casting a Disarming Spell of her own and catching Luna's flying wand. "The idea of learning new spells like the Patronus Charm is quite interesting. I'm just tempted to skip the next few meetings because those would be boring as you said."

"How about you help teach Luna? Or any who are alright with it?" Harry suggested. "It'll be much less boring."

"I beg your pardon," Anya raised an eyebrow.

"Come on Anne," Harry whispered. "I've seen you in the Triwizard Tournament, you're better at duelling than I am."

"Your humility knows no bounds," Anya replied wryly, nonetheless she made her way to Luna, correcting the Ravenclaw's stance and grip before proceeding to give tips on spellcasting.

As he slowly made his rounds, he could see vast improvement among the students, Neville had even managed to disarm Hermione. Eventually, the clock told him that curfew was approaching. Thinking of a way to stop the activity, the room seemed to answer with a whistle that appeared in front of him. Saying a silent thanks to the room, Harry picked up and blew the whistle.

"Alright, let's call it a day, or night, whatever," said Harry. "That was pretty good from everyone, and I think by the next few sessions we'll have this one nailed. Same time, same place next week?"

Echoes of enthusiastic agreements rang throughout the room as people left in small groups, excitedly discussing about the meeting. As the people trickled away, Harry easily noticed Anya lying against the wall, inspecting the ceiling of the room.

"Harry, are you leaving?" Hermione asked, prompting Ron to nudge the girl, pointing discreetly at Anya. Hermione took the hint, giving a grin and waving. "Ron and I will be going first. We'll catch up back in the common room."

With just the two of them left, Harry approached Anya. "How was it?"

"Not bad," Anya muttered distractedly, still staring at the walls of the room. "Never had much training with the Disarming Spell."

"Train for what? Duelling?"

"Self defence."

"Speaking of duelling," said Harry. "We've never really duelled, have we?"

"Nope."

"How about we have one now?" Harry suggested, reaching for his wand holster. "I could probably learn a thing or two from you."

"I'm not that fabulous, Harry," Anya rolled her eyes.

"Your humility knows no bounds," Harry grinned, taking up a duelling stance.

Anya tilted her head back as she laughed silently, shaking her head as she grinned back. She pushed herself off the wall and drew her wand, moving towards Harry.

"Such an arse," Anya chuckled. "Rules?"

"No permanent harm?" Harry shrugged.

"Hmmm... sure," Anya shrugged, swiping her wand immediately. "Incendio."

Harry gasped at the charging jet of fire and instinctively casted a Shield Charm.

"Anne, are you crazy?" Harry yelled. "I said no permanent harm!"

"If it's not cursed fire, it can be healed without even leaving a scar," Anya shrugged. "Stupefy."

Harry was not expecting it, her movements were not the slothful kind he had seen during the meeting but rather an agile and fluid sort that was reminiscent of the times he had seen her during the Triwizard Tournament. Anya was taking the duel seriously.

The Stunning Spell forced Harry to dodge aside. He moved and suddenly his foot caught on something and he fell, landing on his elbows as he winced in pain. Harry looked at his feet and saw that a strange bump had appeared on the floor, the cause of his fall.

"I must say, this room certainly has unique magical properties," Anya taunted. "You'd best watch your surroundings, Potter. Diffindo."

Harry rolled to dodge the spell, grimacing as he swung his wand arm around. "Impedimenta!"

Anya easily sidestepped the counterattack and retaliated. Harry cast a Shield Charm as he scrambled onto his feet, finally understanding the situation. Anya's hint proved useful when Harry almost tripped over a brick that magically appeared beside his foot, he did not expect Anya to already grasp the function of the Room of Requirement and to use it in such a way. It was safe to say Anya was testing the limits of his footwork. Barely dodging another spell from Anya, he flicked his wand at Anya's direction. If he did it correctly, there was no need to aim.

"Incendio!"

Unlike Anya's Incendio which simply flew towards in a simple jet of fire, his was the Fire Serpent derivative. The lance of fire split in three and zigzagged into different angles, approaching Anya from multiple directions. Anya responded with a Shield Charm variant, one which formed a hemisphere. Harry gave his wand a twist and the lances of fire lost momentum, the fire splattered on the floor and seeped rapidly towards Anya like a burning liquid, slipping between the spell and the floor. However, Anya was already moving the moment the fire changed nature. She dropped the spell and made a backwards leap, covering a distance Harry did not think was possible and aimed below her.

"Fumos."

Smoke erupted between them and brought a pause to the duel. Heaving out ragged breaths, Harry stared at the smokescreen before thinking of a solution, if Anya was going to use the Room of Requirement, so was he.

Please make this smoke disappear. Let this smoke disappear.

The room seemed to answer when a draft coming from nowhere blew the smoke away. He was left staring at a glowing wand tip from across the room.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Stupefy!"

Both jets of red flew past each other and both twins dropped to their knees, allowing the other's spell to fly overhead. Something caught Harry's attention and he looked up, a swiftlet was diving from the ceiling towards him. He brought his wand up but the swiftlet burst into a bright flash, blinding him.

Something hard hit his chest and he landed on the floor. Still blinded, he could feel a sharp force yanking his wand from his grip. The duel was over.

Colour eventually returned to his eyes and he could see Anya standing over him, one hand twirling his wand and the other extended towards him. Harry took the hand and pulled himself up. The two stood there for a minute, both still catching their breaths.

Wiping the sweat off his brow, Harry grabbed his wand back and looked at his sister in amazement.

"What did you do back then?"

It was not a single voice that said the sentence but two, both his and Anya's. It appeared Anya was just as impressed as he was.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"You were clearly casting the Fire Serpent Spell," Anya elaborated. "How did its nature change halfway?"

"Oh... simple, I switched the derivative halfway," Harry shrugged. "I guessed that you had a spell to block attacks from multiple directions and changed the derivative accordingly."

"You... switched... the derivative halfway," Anya echoed, staring at him in surprise. "That... liquid fire was not something we learned."

It certainly was not, Harry remembered the countless hours he had spent in abandoned classrooms to create various derivatives for Incendio. The fact that his fruits of labour forced Anya into a corner filled him with pride.

"I practiced on my own," Harry replied sheepishly. "Spell derivatives seemed interesting, it's like learning the building blocks of magic."

"Well, that was... a surprise to say the least," said Anya with an impressed smile. "A vast improvement from when we first tried learning the Fire Serpent Spell."

"Then what was that you did with that bird?" Harry asked.

"Runes, Transfiguration and a block of wood this room provided," Anya replied. "You've used one of mine handiwork during the First Task. This one is similar, just with less finesse."

"You transfigured a bird and carved out runes during the span of that smokescreen," Harry gaped at his sister.

"I guess we both have reasons to be impressed at one another," Anya grinned.

A second of silence passed between them before they fell into soft laughter, Harry wiped an errant tear from his tear before bringing his sister into a hug. As always, she never returned the hug.

"The next session is next week," Harry muttered.

"Same time, same place," Anya finished the sentence, Harry could hear the lack of finality in her tone.

"You're not coming for the next one?" Harry asked, not feeling too disappointed. He was already glad for this moment they shared.

"Unlikely," Anya replied. "Cover for me if you feel obligated."

Harry released her sister and looked at her. "Are you going to be busy then?"

"Just don't feel like running through Disarming Spells again," Anya shrugged before giving a slight grin. "The fact that I just disarmed the 'teacher' in a duel already earned me a passing mark and an exemption from future classes."

"Sod off," Harry shoved his sister playfully. "I'll give you an Outstanding."

"Wow professor," Anya rolled her eyes, speaking in a saccharine tone. "Do I get ten points to Slytherin as well?"

Harry burst out laughing. When he finally left the Room of Requirement, there was a definite spring in his step.

XXXXX

The man adjusted his uniform and took a deep breath, moving forward and pushing the door open. He made his way into the office, folder in hand. The man sitting behind the desk had an intimidating presence, his face bore the trademark signs of stress.

"Good news?" asked the man behind the desk. "Or did sixteen of Britain's finest soldiers die from exposure in the Brecon Beacons?"

"I am afraid worse news, sir," said the man who entered. "There's no update on the missing SAS troop in Brecon Beacons but we've had some missing person reports in the last forty-eight hours, some of them stood out. Four men missing when they left their houses on errands, all from the twenty-second SAS who were on leave, two from B Squadron and two from G Squadron."

He placed the folder and watched as the man behind the desk sighed, rubbing his temples. Behind that desk sat the Director Special Forces, the man in charge of the United Kingdom Special Forces. The Special Air Service, SAS, was among the leading special force units in the world, trained to perfection in the art of both covert and overt warfare. With that in mind, having one or two men die in their tough training was rare, tragic but not unexpected.

Having an entire sixteen man troop on training to vanish off the Brecon Beacons without a trace was an entirely different matter.

It was the reason this was brought all the way up to the director's personal attention. From the looks of it, the fact that SAS members were also missing off duty rose the level of concern. The director picked up the folder and read through the report, his frown deepening as the minutes passed. Finally, he placed the folder down.

"Bring this up to MI5 and MI6," the director sighed. "This might be on a bigger scale than we can imagine. I don't believe in coincidence and someone is definitely targeting our special forces."

"Yes, sir," the man gave a sharp salute before leaving the office.

XXXXX

Morgan woke with a start, trying to move for a few seconds before realising he was bound tightly to a wooden chair. He shifted his weight backwards before making an effort to stand up to no avail. The chair was stuck firmly onto the floor, Morgan tilted his head for a better view and frowned, there were no bolts fixing the chair to the ground and human strength should overpower most adhesives.

Looking around him, Morgan could see his counterparts in the same predicament, all of them were lined up in chairs against the wall. The room was dark, illuminated not by ceiling lights but by lamps and candles placed everywhere in the room. A long table sat in the middle of the room and boxes were stacked in the corners.

Beside him, he could see the others stirring, most where the men under him, the others were familiar faces from different SAS squadrons. Rustling from the corner of the room caught Morgan's attention, his eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting and saw two men perched on the wooden boxes, twirling sticks in their hands. They were the same as those who appeared in Brecon Beacons before he fell unconscious. Grey masks with no markings or designs, just two eyeholes. Dull clothing with a similar shade of grey and a tactical webbing strapped over it.

Their exchange in Russian gave Morgan more clues about his situation. He grimaced, the stories he had heard from the Americans concerning the Russians was simply hellish. Resistance to interrogation was the most torturous form of training, rightly so. Morgan did not think that he would have to put it to use in British soil, if they were even still in British soil.

A creak was heard as the sole door at the side opened, allowing in a ray of light. Another masked man entered, looking at the SAS personnel before walking to his counterparts. Morgan was glad that being in the special forces meant learning multiple languages. Russian was one of the many he learned.

"Pavel, are those people finally here?" said one of the men sitting on the boxes.

The man who just entered, Pavel it seemed, nodded. "They're preparing upstairs. They will come down in a few minutes."

"We have a meeting with the British Aurors in half an hour," the one on the box said irritably.

"The one in London?" Pavel grunted. "We'll make it in time."

Morgan stored that bit of information, they were still on British soil and from what it seems, not too far from London. If they could get out from this building they were in, escape was very much possible. But just what on earth was an Auror?

"If only the Spetsnaz weren't under the thumb of that cripple, we wouldn't be here hunting these British for Leo."

"Really, Lev?" Pavel asked doubtfully. "You seemed to enjoy hunting them down."

The door opened once more and a group of people entered, all wearing outlandish robes. A few of them were holding suitcases.

"Our job's done," the one named Lev leapt off the boxes. "All goods are accounted for, is there anything else for us?"

The leading newcomer shook his head and the masked men took their cue to exit, leaving Morgan and his men in the company of the robed people. The robed people placed their suitcases on the table, methodically emptying its contents and arranging them neatly on the table. Morgan grimaced at the sight. Scalpels, syringes, jars of unknown substances and many more mysterious items were laid on the table.

"Shall we start?" said one of the robed men, tugging at his white gloves.

"From the left, I suppose," another one replied. "Start the log."

"Very well," said another, laying out pieces of paper and taking out a pen. "Twenty-third October, nineteen ninety-five. One-zero-three-zero hours. Start of Project Apollyon, procedure initiated on subject one."

Wait, subject one? This isn't an interrogation?

AN: The surprise I had when I found out the SAS did not use the SA80 standard issue rifle of the British Army. Either that or I did my homework wrong.