Chapter 19: Law and Disorder

I do not own Harry Potter.

In an unusual show of thought and consideration, Ron was pacing back and forth on the shore of Azkaban island, kicking a pebble as he went. It wasn't that Ron didn't think – he did have a brain, no matter what his friends might have said in their fits of frustration – it was more the fact that his thinking was usually supplemented by a heavy dose of snacks, lest it wander off down the road and land in the wrong place. It wasn't that Ron thinking was even an unusual occurrence, after their time on the island – but it was unusual to see him thinking so deeply that he didn't notice the goose trying to reopen the bite wound on his leg.

"Sylvie, would you please stop trying to eat Ron?" Luna asked mildly from where she was splashing about in the water. Sylvie ignored her.

"What do you think he's thinking about?" Hermione, who had come down to watch the testing of the Tail Charm Version 1.2, asked, from her spot crouched down at the edge of the water.

"I have no idea," Luna hummed. "I don't understand Ron's mind very well. I think something got to him when he was born and shuffled things around. Not enough to do much damage, but enough to confuse the Nargles."

Hermione frowned slightly, before turning to squint at Ron, who was now absently bouncing the pebble up and down from foot to foot as Sylvie tried to eat it. She decided not to talk about the state of Ron's brain, volatile topic as it was, and continued in her original vein. "He was talking about the Order this morning. Professor Snape says the Death Eaters are restless – too much so. He thinks they might be trying to weed out a spy – a bunch of the inner circle don't know what's going on. Bellatrix does, of course, and she's gloating, which is nothing good…"

Luna sighed, before flopping up onto the water's edge until only the very edges of her tail were trailing in the water. "Ron is worried, Hermione, and so am I. Last time they attacked, we nearly lost Harry, and that was with warning… the Ministry is too quiet for such an infested place. Ron is right to be concerned, I think… something is happening, and we don't know what it is or how it'll—"

Sylvie chose that moment to bite Ron's ankle. The latter startled, yelped out a few profanities, and started trying to detach the former by shaking his leg as hard as he could towards the ocean.

"You're both right," Hermione agreed. "Something's off. We've had too clean a run lately. We've been here too long…"

"Ow - gerroff me - OW -"

"Not to mention, the geese need some fresh air," Luna sighed. "Sylvie, please, stop attacking Ron!"

Sylvie honked obnoxiously through a mouthful of leg, before finally letting go and flying off, leaving Ron to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Maybe it's the wards," Hermione mused. "Overexposure to something that aggravates them might make them more aggressive in the long run… has anyone done any research on that? Could that be it?"

"Nah – ow! They're like that normally, I remember Fred trying to catch one when I was eight," Ron snorted, hobbling over and plopping down onto the ground. "It bit him all over, and Mum had to take him to St Mungos to make sure he didn't catch some weird disease from it."

"Daddy always said that a goose bite would give you rabies," Luna agreed.

"… what's rabies?" Ron asked himself.

Rather than confront the fact that the magical world apparently didn't know what rabies was, Hermione cut in. "Luna and I were just talking about our Death Eater situation. Do you have any ideas?"

"Not really," Ron admitted. "There's not much to go on – but we're definitely not safe here."

"We share thoughts, then," Luna smiled. "The time together must have made our brainwaves sync up."

"…maybe. The way I see it, there are only so many strategic locations in Wizarding Britain," Ron pointed out. "Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, the Ministry, Azkaban, the Order HQ, and Malfoy Manor. I mean, there are more places, but those are the important ones. They've got to come after us eventually, and we can't just hold them at a stalemate forever… we just have to figure out when the best time to leave is."

"Well, the Ministry is radioactive at the moment," Hermione pointed out. "So in a round-about way, it's safe. Nobody can go in, so it can't be attacked, either. Although there's always the risk that someone will be assassinated…"

"They don't know where the Order is, either," Luna said with a slight smile. "The Fidelius is such a wonderful charm… I wish I had asked Professor Flitwick to teach me."

"That leaves it between Hogwarts and us," Ron pointed out. "And – I don't know, but I think Hogwarts is weaker than we are, right now."

"…Ron, explain," Hermione said sharply.

"Well, I just thought – Dumbledore's always been the main deterrent, hasn't he? But Dumbledore's not there, and most of the castle's been thinking Harry's a lunatic. They might even still think he's a lunatic. The DA's good, but they're living in a snake pit."

"Harry is a lunatic," Luna said, "Just not like they think he is."

"An advantage for us, but a loss for our allies," Hermione realised. "Ron, you think they're going to attack Hogwarts?"

"Well, that's what I'd do," Ron muttered. "With so many kids in there and all that – they might lose a few fighters, and they'd be gambling on the response, but it might pay off. You know what Harry's like! If he thought it was his fault he'd probably – I dunno – something dangerous!"

"So what do we do in response?" Hermione asked rhetorically. "We can't just hole up in here. We've been here long enough."

"We've got to get out of here," Ron said firmly. "The sooner, the better."

"Hermione and I hadn't thought that far," Luna murmured slowly. "Our minds were clouded by the present… but we could think of something, I'm sure."

"We'll try to convince the others at – no, we'll call them now," Hermione decided. "If it's the sooner, the better, we may as well not waste a day." She screwed up her face. "Expecto patronum!"

Her companions watched as a silver otter materialized and skipped off into the castle. "You can do that?" Ron asked indignantly. "You never told us!"

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," Hermione grumbled.

"Okay," Hannah panted. "Okay, okay, okay. Which – which person suggested that again?"

"I feel kind of bad now," Michael muttered.

"I don't," Seamus snorted.

"Yeah, but you don't have any shame," Michael snipped. "You don't count."

"Never mind that!" Hannah rummaged around in her pocket and pulled out a map, opening it as they came to a halt behind the tapestry of Uric the Oddball. "How much time do you think that buys us? Padma says his entire patrol cycle takes 40 minutes…"

"But then they've actually got to find him," Seamus pointed out, leaning over and pointing at the dot hovering vaguely between the second and third floors. "What's the chance they'll go looking for Filch in – what's that, a bathroom?"

"Moderate, if they figure out we shoved him into a vanishing cabinet." Michael glanced behind them as he spoke, before turning back to squint at the map. "They always did have a tendency to relocate people to the toilet blocks, nobody ever figured out why…" He coughed, face slightly pink, and then tapped the piece of parchment that corresponded to the Entrance Hall. "Here –" he traced a line to the Filch-dot, "—to here, should take about ten minutes, but if we factor in the patrol cycle and the fact that they're unlikely to take the optimal route…"

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Hannah said flatly. "Stop speaking French."

"I'm – you're joking, right?"

"How 'bout we eyeball it at three-quarters of an hour and assume the worst?" Seamus suggested. "We may as well assume the tightest schedule and relax from there. That's what we always do for homework. Not that you can relax very much with a fixed due date…"

"That works," Hannah agreed. "Maths is pants. Where to now?"

"Math is –"

"Uh, Parvati reckons she and Lavender were going to go and set off the gas in the fifth-floor staircase in about three minutes, so we should probably get to the fourth floor by two if we want to avoid it. We've just got to make sure we don't collide with Ernie and Cho, they've got some delayed-action charms on the East Wing of the third floor but they'll go off early if they're disturbed during casting…" Seamus frowned. "That's a passageway, isn't it?"

"Wait, exactly what –"

"Yeah, it is, but it pops out real close to a Watcher Office – eh, we can risk it, right?" Hannah said cheerfully. "I mean, we're going to be running for our lives at some stage, we may as well get some practice now."

"That's not – you know what? I give up," Michael groused. "Let's do it." And with something akin to a war cry, he jumped out from behind the tapestry and went hurtling down the corridor.

"…I think we broke him," Seamus said, after a moment.

"Gryffindors have a habit of doing that," Hannah sighed. "Come on, or we're going to be left behind."

Unfortunately for the students, running down the hallways was not nearly as fun as it sounded after the first thirty seconds. You get tired, for one thing, and for another, always having to swerve around tiny obstacles gets dull quite quickly. Not to mention, trying to run down a tunnel that's only shoulder-height results in an awful lot of bumping, which is a great way to gain a concussion for free. Running does, however, get much more exciting, if by exciting you mean dangerous and possibly detention-inducing, when you happen to pass by the offices of corrupt officials who are trying to suppress your youthful energy. Which was what happened, inevitably, when the trio popped up from the aforementioned passageway.

"Scatter!" someone, probably a Creevey, screeched, as the official started yelling and the entire crowd in the rather packed hallway (for they had chosen the time in-between classes to make their move, free-periods being the blessed thing they were) started to panic.

"CRAP!" Hannah cried, ducking under a seventh-year's arm and narrowly missing a firstie. "THIS WAS NOT THOUGHT THROUGH PROPERLY!"

"YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN!" Michael yelped. "GET TO THE RETRIEVAL POINT!"

"NO SHIT, GENIUS!" Seamus bellowed. "OI, WATCH OUT, YOU LOT! THE RESISTANCE IS COMING THROUGH!" With that, he pulled out his wand and fired off a spark at a nearby chandelier, which exploded in a shower of glittery dust, thoroughly pulverized to the point of disintegration.

"I THOUGHT WE WERE TOLD NOT TO ENGAGE UNLESS NECESSARY?!" Hannah screeched.

"ENGAGEMENT IS ALWAYS – STUPEFY! – NECESSARY!" Seamus exclaimed, grabbing onto the corner of a wall and using it to throw himself around a bend in the hallway.

"THAT'S NOT HOW PROVOCATION WORKS!" Hannah yelped, slowing down to squeeze between two confused fourth-years.

"In this case, it probably is," Michael muttered irritably. Glancing behind himself, he narrowed his eyes and aimed their pursuer. "Let's see, now… Lucidium Solem Diamatem!" A jet of white light soared across the room and hit the official on the arm, causing them to stumble back as Michael turned and ran.

"DID YOU GET HIM?" Seamus called out, glancing behind them.

"YEAH, NOW LET'S GO!" Michael yelled back. "HANNAH, CAN WE DIVERT TO THE LEFT ROUTE?"

"IT'S BLOCKED, THE VINE TEAM'S RETREATING TO THE SEVENTH!" Hannah reported, hastily stuffing the map back in her pocket. "WE'LL HAVE TO TAKE THE LOOPING PASSAGE!"

"INQUISITORIALS APPROACHING, 7 O'CLOCK!" Seamus yelled. He threw his arm over his shoulder and cast without looking back. "FLIPENDO MAXIMA!"

"WE CAN LOSE THEM THIS WAY – sorry, kiddo – TAKE THE ROOF!" Hannah exclaimed.

Michael ducked his head just in time to avoid a book to the skull. "THE ROOF? HAVE YOU GONE INSANE, HANNAH?!"

"I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING, JUST GO!" Hannah shrieked, jumping down onto her knees and skidding across the stone, spinning to face the hallway and tearing holes in her stockings as she did so. "EVERTE STATUM – TRUST ME, MICHAEL!"

Seamus pointed his wand at the nearest window. "Alohomora!" he yelled, and for once the spell pulled off without spark or fanfare, and he jumped headfirst through the window and rolled onto the roof. Hannah aimed her wand at the hallway.

"PROTEGO HORRIBILIS – HURRY UP, MICHAEL!" She gritted her teeth as the shield appeared, deformed and cracked. "YOU KNOW I'M BAD AT THIS ONE!"

"I'M SORRY, OKAY? PROTEGO HORRIBILIS – I'M A SLOW RUNNER!" Michael dashed over and hooked his leg over the ledge as Hannah scrambled to his feet, yelping as she pushed him through. "HANNAH!"

"NO TIME FOR DIGNITY, MICHAEL!" Seamus yelled from where he was halfway to the nearest tower. "HURRY UP AND LET'S GET TO THE PASSAGE!"

Stumbling to their feet, Hannah and Michael started running after the climber. "REPARO!" Hannah cried, and the window flew together as they flew off across the castle – as fast as one could flee on tilted roofs and open crenelations – to the sound of outraged yells, confused shouts, and outright cheers. Unobstructed, it wasn't long before they reached the open top floor of the castle – longer than it would take from within, granted, but faster than pushing through the crowds.

Of course, fate would have it that someone else was already there.

"The kids have launched an offensive," Remus reported tightly, walking into the kitchen with a grim expression.

"We heard," Mad-Eye grunted. "Finch-Fletchley had the common sense to send us a warning before they damn near burnt down the whole castle. In any case, we've got our spy there." He gestured towards the fireplace, which was currently burning emerald green.

"Things won't stay stable for long." Snape, slightly sooty but otherwise none the worse for wear, sounded uncharacteristically tense. "The minute they figure out the kids are making a move the school will become that much bigger a target. I'd say it's foolish, but it had to happen eventually."

"What do we do now?" Tonks asked. "We're going to be fighting with split forces if things don't hurry up, and I want you all alive for the next ten years, thanks. Next twenty, preferably, but you're old, Professor."

Dumbledore interlaced his fingers, thinking. "We wait," he said slowly. "We prepare for battle. And we pray those around us make the right decisions. It is rather in their hands now, I'm afraid."

Note: I very nearly went Lemony Narrator, but this was Not The Fic. Oh well. Here's your update. Next time I'll try to write through exam period instead of freaking out.