Disclaimer I don't own Harry Potter. All rights to the characters and universe the story belongs in belong to JK Rowling

Reviews welcome. Any advice to help me improve would be brilliant. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter 20 - Behind Enemy Lines

With two loud pops Harry and Ginny appeared before the doors of the intelligence bureau. The building looked as non-descript as ever, even the door was still in place. There was something wrong though, the floor around the building was wet, further down the street there wasn't a puddle in sight.

'Be careful, they're here.' Was all he said before walking through the revolving doors before him. No one was on the reception desk and the whole building appeared to be completely empty, the only noises were a buzzing coming from one of the offices further down the corridor and the gentle hum of the rotating door behind them.

'Is it always this quiet?' Whispered Ginny.

Harry looked around worriedly. 'No, we may be too late.' Ignoring the dread building in the pit of his stomach, Harry stepped through the broken x-ray machine and led Ginny towards the lift.

The usually quick journey down into the bunker seemed to take an age as the two of them stood there, tense, as the lift rattled towards the depths of the earth. The cold wasn't helping either.

After what felt like an eternity the lift finally descended to a slow stop. 'Be prepared for anything.' Warned Harry. 'Shoot first ask questions later.' Ginny nodded as the lift pinged and the doors slid slowly open.

The scene before him was utter carnage. Bodies were strewn along the corridor, pictures had fallen off the walls and all the doors to the various rooms coming from the corridor had been blown open. 'Shit.' Swore Harry quietly as he stepped amongst the wreckage.

'They put up a fight.' Said Ginny, pointing towards a cloaked figure that was slumped against a wall with a hole in his chest.

'These are some of the best operatives in the world. Muggle or not they wouldn't have been easy to take.' Said Harry matter-of-factly. As he moved along, there was a coughing noise from behind a desk on the right-hand side of Clarke's office.

Lying on her back, with blood pouring from a wound in her side, was Fulkram. Her eyes sought Harry as he moved around the desk quietly. 'Potter.' She wheezed, before coughing again.

'Shhh.' He soothed, kneeling down beside her to cradle her head. 'We're going to get you help.'

'It's too late. They've got…' She paused to catch her breath. 'Clarke you need to go after them.'

'I will once I get you help.'

She smiled. 'You always were Clarke's best agent. Running around thinking you could save everyone.' She coughed up blood this time, spitting it over the floor. 'These people aren't normal, be careful.' She pressed a blood-soaked piece of paper into his hand. 'This is where they are, I heard on the. On the. Intercom.' With her last word her eyes lost focus and her hand fell limp to her side.

Gently, Harry lowered her head to the floor and stood up offering the paper to Ginny who took it without hesitation. 'We need to go.' She told him sharply. She looked up, surprised to see him walking towards Clarke's office. 'Now.'

'No we search in here first.'

'But…'

'But nothing Ginny. We can't afford to miss anything, rushing in now wouldn't help anyone.'

'They might be killing her!'

'No, if they wanted to kill her, they would have done that here.' With an air of finality to his statement Harry pushed open the doors to the office. Two men with wands, in hand, lay on the floor staring up at the ceiling. Unfortunately, that was the only sign of a struggle apart from the missing computer from the desk.

Ignoring the look of disgust on Ginny's face, Harry searched the two corpses for any relevant information. He was finishing searching the inside pocket of the last man when the door was flung open.

Without thinking, Harry flung himself to his left when there was a loud band. Harry looked up to see a muggle agent fall to the floor unconscious. Ginny moved to take cover by the door and peered around the frame.

'I can't see anyone else.' She whispered.

'That's because we work alone.' Said Harry walking over to the agent. He pointed his wand at the man muttering 'Enervate.' The agent jerked awake and pushed Harry away. 'Easy Roberts it's me.' Said Harry, holding his hands out.

'Potter? What are you doing here?' Asked Rogers in a rough cockney accent.

'Looking for Clarke, I got here too late. You?'

'I'm here for a debrief, looks like that'll have to wait.' He said looking around, 'What the hell happened here?'

'Clarke's been kidnapped, we're going after her.' Harry told him, gesturing to Ginny.

'Who's the girl.'

'A friend of mine and an operative in her own right.'

'I don't like it Potter. How did those freaks dressed in Halloween gear even get down here, never mind wipe out HQ?' Asked Rogers.

'They're not freaks.' Ginny corrected him. 'They're Wizards.'

Rogers snorted.

'She's right.'

The battle hardened cockney looked Harry straight in the eye. 'You're having me on.' He rasped.

'No, I'm not. The men and woman here did well to fight them off so well.'

'Then what the fuck are we going to do? We can't bloody fight them.'

'You need to make sure that this place doesn't fall apart.' Said Harry. 'Get all agents and staff back in that aren't on duty and take them to a secure location. We need to this office operational again or there will be chaos.'

'What will you do?'

'Find Clarke, and hopefully bring her back in one piece.'

Rogers eyed him sceptically. 'I know you're good Potter, but how are you going to do that when they've gone through the whole department like a knife through butter?'

'Fight fire with fire.'

'Fucking hell.' Groaned Rogers, rubbing his face with his hands. 'I knew we shouldn't have survived that fire. You're one of them aren't you.'

'Yes.'

'Then good luck.' Said Roberts offering his hand.

Harry took it. 'Thanks, I'll be in contact when I can. If you don't hear from me in 24 hours assume the worst.'

'What do we do then?'

Harry grinned. 'There's an old telephone box on the corner of Charcross Avenue, near Highbury station. Pick up the receiver and ask for Kingsley Shacklebolt. He'll know what to do.'

'What number do I dial.'

'No number needed. Goodluck.' With that, Harry spun on his heel and marched back through to the lifts, Ginny right on his heels.

When they were alone in the lift, Harry ripped off his glasses and fished around in his pocket for his grey contact lenses. 'What are you doing?' Asked Ginny.

'Disguising myself, it'll look odd if there are two Harry Potters in the same place.'

'Are they really going to have time to look?'

Harry shrugged. 'Who knows, I don't really want to be seen until the last moment, if we do get spotted though we need to blend in.'

'What about me?' Asked Ginny, eyeing the wand in Harry's back pocket shrewdly.

'Up to you, if you think you will be recognised, change. If not, I think you'll be fine.'

Not wanting to arouse suspicion, Ginny quickly waved her wand around her head, causing her hair to shrink and become a dark brown colour.

They exited the building through the fire exit which led onto a deserted alley where they disappeared with a crack. Startling the sleeping woman, they hadn't noticed beside the large dustbin.

They appeared on a well kept drive which was smoothly tarmacked with immaculate borders. The drive led towards large cast iron gates which guarded a stunning mansion.

'Impressive.' Muttered Ginny, staring at the well-kept grounds before the house. 'How do we get in?'

As way of answer, Harry walked up to the iron bars blocking there way and wrapped his knuckles on the metal. There was a scraping sound as some of the bars twisted into a mouth like shape.

'Password?' Asked the sharp voice of a rather stern sounding woman.

'Muggles in their natural place.' Replied Harry.

The gates turned to a strange mist, which Harry led Ginny through without hesitation. 'How did you know?' Asked Ginny in a whisper as they walked up to the large mansion before them.

'This was in one of the men's pockets.' Whispered Harry, pulling out a small piece of parchment and handing it to her.

'That's one hell of a guess.' She muttered to herself.

'What else would it be?' Hissed Harry.

'I don't know a mantra, his favourite book anything.'

'A book called "Muggles in their rightful place"?' Asked Harry sceptically.

'You'd be surprised.' Ginny sighed sadly.

When they reached the bottom of the stone steps, the large front door at the top swung open and a small elderly house-elf manoeuvred her way outside. There were scars over her face and her left leg dragged along behind her in evidence of her treatment. Unlike Kreacher, this poor house elf is a true slave.

'Follow Glinsa please.' She managed to grind out, before heading back into the house.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look before hurrying up the stairs to catch up with Glinsa. The main entrance was darker than even Grimmauld place. A lonely wall torch provided the only light, it's flickering giving the portraits on the wall a maniacal look. Glinsa conjured a small ball of fire in her hand whilst proceeding further along the corridor.

The place was eerily silent with the only sound coming from Glinsa's week leg as it was dragged along the wooden floor behind her. As they walked Harry tried to get a feel for the place, whoever owned the property obviously liked to live like a vampire because all the rooms he managed a quick peek into had black out blinds on the windows.

However, there was still a grandeur about the place, the walls were lined with silver strands and what he had first thought was black paint, turned out to be a dark green. The mansion was also immaculately clean, leading Harry to the conclusion that there was more than one house elf here. The thought of their condition made him wince internally, if they were anything like Glinsa then they were sure to be in a bad way.

Eventually, Glinsa stopped outside of large double door, whose frame reached to the top of the ceiling. 'Please enter, the meeting will begin shortly.' She then clicked her fingers and dissaparated.

'Do you think we should have healed her?' asked Ginny.

'No, well at least not yet. None of these bastards would think twice about her condition so it would arouse suspicion if all of a sudden she was healed.'

'She doesn't deserve that.' Said Ginny sadly, looking back down the corridor they had walked.

'I know, but with any luck it won't be for much longer.' Said Harry confidently. 'Now, let's begin.' Boldly, Harry pushed open the door only to be temporarily dazzled by the brightly lit room.

'Bloody hell.' Muttered Ginny as her own eyes adjusted. 'Why can't they light everything up like that?'

'Remind me to ask the host.' Whispered Harry sarcastically as he walked into the large ballroom. It was filled with people chattering rather loudly about one thing or another. More guests must have been expected as only those near to the door paid them any attention when they entered, and even those went back to their own conversations swiftly.

Harry instantly recognised the room they were in, it was the same one he had seen in the memories of the man he interrogated in Diagon Alley. His eyes landed on the stage where he was sure the imposter would step forward.

'We're in the right place.' He told Ginny in a hushed voice.

'We can't fight all of these.' Panicked Ginny, looking around at the many people in the room.

'We might not have to.' Harry slipped his invisibility cloak out of his pocket and passed it to Ginny. 'Put this in your bag and use it to try and find Clarke.' He said gesturing slyly to the small service door next to the stage.

'Why don't you come up with me?'

'What and ruin the introduction?' Asked Harry with a predatory grin.

Ginny eyed him warily, 'Be careful.' Was all she said before slipping off into the crowd.

With Ginny gone, Harry took the time to look around the room at the guests. So, as not to appear to be openly gawping, he covered his observations by taking a walk around the room, where he finally perched himself to the side leaning against the chimney breast. Thankfully the fire wasn't on as the amount of people in the room was warmth enough, any hotter and all the guests would have been sweating.

For the most part he didn't recognise any although, he did spot some that could have been involved in the attack on Clarkes office because of the various wounds they were sporting. Nothing all that dangerous unfortunately and most easy to hide, apart from the cut along the face of an old man, who was being tended to by one of the other members of the group.

'I don't remember seeing you before.' Stated a well spoken yet drawling voice, startling Harry. The voice belonged to a man Harry hadn't seen since the war.

'That's because I don't like to be seen.' He responded, turning towards the curious face of one Lucius Malfoy.

'Really. You're not doing a very good job of that today and people usually address me as sir in my own home.' Of course, who else would live here. Malfoy paused a moment. 'You look familiar.'

'Well I have been around, just never spoken to you.' Answered Harry nonchalantly.

'Hmmm, do you know my son then?' Asked Lucius, pointing to the blonde-haired figure of Draco Malfoy. 'You look about his age.'

'Only in passing, I never went to Hogwarts.'

'Oh I see, Durmstrang then?'

'Oh no, my parents may not of wanted me under the tutelage of Dumbledore but they didn't want me sent away neither so I was home schooled.' The lie was easy to recite, it was the one he had practised during the war in case he was ever caught whilst on the road.

'Ah.' Malfoy looked poised to continue his questioning but was interrupted by the room suddenly darkening, drawing everyone's attention to the stage. A man, well dressed in an emerald green suit, walked onto the stage. Green eyes surveyed the crowd from behind large round glass lenses. His messy black hair looked untameable with a wayward fringe which almost hid the supposedly legendary lightning bolt scar.

'Well done, well done all of you.' Boomed the imposter's voice around the room. 'Not even The Dark Lord got this close to control of the British ISLES!' The room erupted in cheers and applause at the claim. 'With the fantastic work of Minister Greengrass and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement we have control over the Ministry and with victory today the Muggle government will soon follow!'

'Here! Here!' Shouted a man from the back lifting his glass in the air.

'However, I do notice a slight problem.' The room waited with baited breath as he eyed the scene menacingly. 'Where are the ones who attacked Grimmauld Place?'

'They, they didn't make it Mr Potter.'

'What do you mean?' Asked the imposter leaving the stage for the first time. He weaved his way through the crowd until he came before a slight hunched back woman with a shaggy cloak. She half bowed to the man when he stopped whilst taking a slight step back.

Now he was closer Harry could see through the disguise to recognise Bernd Beaumont, not that he needed clarification.

'They didn't come back out of the house sir. I saw two people leave and then the apparation barriers went down.' Answered the woman.

'Show me!' Demanded Beaumont, holding out a vial.

Sheepishly the woman withdrew her wand and held it to her temple. As she pulled it away, a silvery substance appeared glued onto the end of her wand. She tapped the edge of the vial allowing the silvery liquid to fall into the container. Beaumont eyed it curiously before raising his own wand, this time the memory emptied from the vial forming a cloud above the guests. Within the cloud an image started to form showing Grimmauld Place for all to see.

It showed a storm brewing as people suddenly appeared outside waiting to enter. Without warning the windows smashed as the front door blew open. The attack happened quicker than Harry remembered, it was mere moments when two more people stepped out of the house. The memory froze on the couple, one with long red hair and the other with a recognisable mop.

A cruel smile stretched across Lucius Malfoy's face while he spoke up for the first time to the crowd. 'Well, we finally flushed the bastard out.' Confused mutterings broke out amongst the crowd, Harry stayed quiet leaning against the same piece of wall as earlier, watching Malfoy intently.

'Come now!' Shouted Lucius, almost laughing. 'You didn't really think this was Harry Potter did you?' Before anyone could react, he whirled his wand in Beaumont's direction roaring 'AVADA KEDAVRA!' A flash of green light jettisoned into Beaumont's chest, taking the man's life instantly.

'No, he was just some imposter we drafted up. A useless nobody whom without direction, much like the most of you, would have wasted his little talent for acting.' He stalked amongst the people in the room as he spoke. Everyone moved out of the way when he prowled too close, praying he wouldn't focus on them next. 'WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?' He bellowed to the room. 'Get to the Ministry. Greengrass has orders!'

Amongst the chaos of people disapparating on the spot, dropping glasses as they went, Harry disillusioned himself so he wouldn't be seen. When the cracks stopped and the room was still again Harry wasn't surprised to see Lucius and Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of the room.

'Shouldn't we be going too father?' Asked Draco.

'No, we have important business here. We need to know what Potter will do next.'

Draco stood in confusion as he watched his father walk away towards the door Ginny went out of earlier. 'But how?'

Lucius chuckled hollowly. 'By asking questions, now come.' Still looking somewhat bewildered, Draco followed his father's footsteps out of the door.

When he was sure they had gone far enough away from the room, Harry carefully walked towards the now prone figure of Bernd Beaumont. His killing had come as a surprise, he was sure Beaumont was one of the elite members of the group so who was he really.

Carefully, Harry rummaged through the man's pockets, all of which were empty. That is until he came to the last inside pocket, near the chest of the man's robes. His fingers ran across the shiny, smooth surface of a fine piece of paper. He pulled the piece out to find himself looking at the photo of a young boy waving back at him.

If anyone had been around to see Harry's shift in demeanour when he looked at that photo, they wouldn't have noticed much. He paled slightly and his mouth changed from a frown to more of a thin horizontal slit. His hands reacted on instinct, repocketing the photo, before coming to rest ready for action. Not even his eyes gave anything away, they had become dull, lifeless.

Rage. A deep burning rage had risen within Harry once more, bringing with it a sense of clarity. If there was one thing Harry Potter had learnt, it was how to deal with rage, and more importantly who to direct it at. There had been too many orphans during both wars with Voldemort and each of them angered Harry in the same way.

How many children would lose their parents for the benefit of evil? That was a question Harry asked himself over and over when he hid himself from the word. As well as how many he, himself, is responsible for.

Harry had killed many and even more had died fighting with him, for him or because of him, depending on how you dress up such matters of courage.