The Paths We Tread
Chapter 9:
What Passing-bells
Minister's Manor
London, England
August 30, 1996
"Thank you all for coming," Fudge said genially, steepling his fingers as he looked around the table in the ornate dining room. "As you realize, we have quite a bit of work to do in our efforts to rebuild."
Rufus snorted mentally. Beside him, Amelia's fists were clenched under the table, and a glance across the room showed Amos Diggory looking rather pale and haggard. Dirk Cresswell was staring blankly at his hands, which visibly trembled as the splindly man swallowed harshly. Theresa Edgecombe was pale, her eyes red-rimmed and her lip quivering. Beside her sat Tiberius McClaggen, the burly wizard rubbing a hand up and down her back as he watched Fudge. Mafalda Hopkirk, directly across from Scrimgeour, stared blankly at the wall. Cuthbert Mockridge was frowning at Fudge, his eyes narrowed. Peasegood looked as confused as ever.
And Pius Thicknesse, seated at the end of the table opposite Fudge, looked incredibly serene.
"It is difficult to say what is the more pressing threat," Fudge continued, "but there is no question that the destruction of Diagon Alley was the act of one man. This must be addressed, and swiftly."
Bloody hell, Rufus thought to himself. "Right, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named needs to be our number one target," he said gruffly, nodding to himself. But he had a sinking feeling…
"Arthur Weasley burned our center of commerce to the ground," Thicknesse said smoothly, his dark eyes flashing. "He was seen casting Fiendfyre and fleeing the Ministry."
By who? Rufus thought angrily. He knew for a fact that everyone else who had been in the Ministry at the time of the attack was dead – or worse.
"And where is he now, I wonder?" Thicknesse continued, looking around the room. "Were not all of the Department Heads summoned?"
"Molly Weasley sent word to Shacklebolt," Amelia cut in evenly. "Arthur is very ill, and indisposed."
"Convenient," McClaggen huffed, the corner of his mouth quirking in an out-of-place grin. Rufus looked at the man silently and let out a steady breath.
If he strung McClaggen from the ceiling, it wouldn't really help anyone's cause.
"Yes, well," Fudge said calmly, though he looked rather pleased with McClaggen's response, "ill or not, it has been over a week since the destruction of Diagon, and no one has seen him."
"It does seem odd," Peasegood said quietly, and Cresswell nodded to himself thoughtfully.
"Wait just a moment," Diggory cut in, his face flushing. The stocky man looked back and forth between Fudge and Thicknesse, his eyes wide. "What are you suggesting?"
"There have been reports," Thicknesse said slowly, "of a spy in our midst."
Well, Rufus thought angrily, that's awfully bold of you.
Turning his head to look at Thicknesse, Rufus simply raised an eyebrow, as both Amelia Bone and Diggory scoffed at the same time.
"Arthur?" Diggory replied incredulously, as both Hopkirk and Mockridge stared at Thicknesse. "Arthur Weasley? A spy for You-Know-Who?" He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Arthur is the least hardened man I've ever met. He apologizes to the inter-office memos when he trashes them, for crying out loud! They're paper!"
"He was friends with Rookwood," McClaggen pointed out.
"A lot of people were friends with Rookwood," Hopkirk replied, her eyes flashing, as Edgecombe looked down at the table, wringing her hands. Rufus frowned at the woman a moment, a flash of pity stirring. He'd forgotten about that ill-fated romance.
"He has been a consistently loyal Ministry employee for nearly three decades," Amelia said sternly, glaring openly at Thicknesse. "I don't know a man with more integrity than he."
"Arthur Weasley does not work for the Ministry," a quiet voice sounded from the corner, and the entire room froze. As everyone turned to look at the shadowed, grizzly old man in the corner, Rufus closed his eyes.
Don't do it, old man, he thought desperately. Don't out him like this. You know what will happen.
Croaker clearly wasn't listening. The Head of the Unspeakables coughed harshly, then cleared his throat. "Weasley was hired by the International Confederation of Wizards and asked to come work for the Ministry in a low-level position. He is the head of an international team of Hit Wizards and Unspeakables, and he has been running this team right under all of your noses since his eldest boy was still in nappies."
Outrage echoed through the room, and Rufus sighed to himself as Fudge turned red. "You knew about this?" Fudge demanded, slamming his meaty fist down on the table, and Croaker smiled thinly.
"I helped him set it up," the Unspeakable replied evenly. "I helped with recruiting, although I do not know the current members. After the initial phases, he kept me out of everything, at my request."
"That's treason," Fudge hissed, and Cresswell and McClaggen nodded emphatically.
"The job that he was tasked with was protection," Croaker murmured as the group of Department Heads stared. "The team he ran would track down the worst offenders before they could come into power like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and… contain them." Rufus changed another glance at Diggory, and the other man looked shaken. "They also would liberate certain dangerous items and bring them to our department for safe-keeping, to keep them out of the wrong hands. Many of the magical advances we have made in the last twenty-odd years are thanks to him."
A stunned silence settled over the room. Edgecombe was looking nervously between Fudge and Croaker. Hopkirk's eyes were narrowed on Croaker, and Cresswell and McClaggen were shaking their heads. Mockridge looked visibly stunned, and Peasegood had gone back to his standard baffled look.
"Protection?" Thicknesse said quietly after a moment's silence. "I wonder, Croaker, did he have the means to change the Ministry wards?"
Rufus felt himself go cold.
"I am not certain to what extent he involved himself in the defenses," Croaker said simply, and Thicknesse laughed hollowly. Under the table, Rufus fisted his hands, breathing slowly and steadily.
"There you have it, Minister," Thicknesse said to Fudge, raising an eyebrow as he turned back to the portly man. Fudge was staring at Croaker, but he turned to meet Thicknesse's gaze and frowned deeply.
"I suppose so," the Minister said lowly. "Then we must act quickly. As of this moment, Arthur Weasley is a wanted man. Amelia, round up all his friends and known associates for questioning. We need to find out how deep this goes."
"Of course, Minister," Amelia replied smoothly. "Shall I start with everyone in this room?"
Hopkirk let out a tired chuckle, rubbing a hand across her eyes, and Amos Diggory was still looking back and forth between Fudge, Thicknesse, and Croaker, as if he could not believe what he was hearing.
"Amelia, I know you're upset," Fudge said consolingly, and Amelia snorted.
"Arthur Weasley is no agent of You-Know-Who," Amelia replied sternly, and Edgecombe looked up, her eyes still watering.
"But how do you know?" Edgecombe said softly. "Apparently, none of us knew him."
"I know his character," Amelia shot back, and Rufus reached under the table and tapped her knee. Not now, he thought desperately at her, and though she couldn't hear him, she seemed to get the message. The formidable women fell silent, settling for glaring at Edgecombe heatedly.
"Shacklebolt was in his office a lot," Peasegood was musing. "That kid Tonks was always with Shacklebolt. Plus Perkins, he worked with the man for years – "
"The werewolf," McClaggen put in. "They are friends."
"And we all know he was a friend of Sirius Black's," Cresswell added.
Rufus glanced down the table at Thicknesse. The man's dark eyes were gleaming, a slight smile twisting his face.
"It's a start," Fudge nodded. "Amelia, get your Aurors on it."
"Kingsley Shacklebolt is out of reach," Rufus cut in before Amelia could defend him. And get herself in more trouble, he thought angrily. "He resigned his post at the Ministry three days ago and has accepted an offer from Dumbledore to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. As I understand it, he is already at the school."
"So send Aurors to retrieve him," Thicknesse said easily, and Fudge shook his head.
"Dumbledore would never allow them in," the Minister muttered, "not without proof of wrongdoing."
"There's still the others," McClaggen pointed out. "And I'm sure if we think carefully, we can trace back everyone he spends significant time with."
"Which brings us to the next issue," Cresswell said slowly. "Do we think his family members are compromised?"
"There are whispers about the oldest boy," Fudge agreed. "That he got into something he shouldn't have on a dig. Most of his team died."
Murmurs sprang up around the table again, and Rufus felt sick.
"And there was that business with their daughter a few years back," McClaggen added. "My poor nephew was terrified to be at that school."
"The twins have disappeared since their joke shop was destroyed," Cresswell muttered. "Come to think of it, none of the Weasleys have been seen in public since."
Fudge nodded sharply, glancing at Thicknesse before replying, "We'll question the whole family. Amelia, bring them in."
"What of Harry Potter?" Thicknesse asked softly.
The entire room froze yet again, and everyone turned as one to stare at the new Deputy Minister for Magic.
"You can't be serious," Mockridge said flatly. "There is absolutely no way Harry Potter is aligned with You-Know-Who."
"I suggest nothing of the sort," Thicknesse smiled at the older man. "But if the Weasley family is compromised – well, who holds Harry Potter's guardianship?"
And the true goal is revealed, Rufus thought to himself. Around the table, he saw the others nodding thoughtfully, murmuring to themselves. Edgecombe pressed her hand to her mouth as new tears sprang up in her eyes, and Rufus scowled at her. Weak-willed thing, he thought derisively. If he had had to work beside that woman every day, instead of Amelia, he would have Avada'd himself already.
"Very well," Fudge sighed, but yet again, he seemed extremely pleased. "When you detain William Weasley, make sure you get young Harry into protective custody. I think some of the newest Ministry wards are his classmates, anyway, so he shouldn't feel alone. Alright, if there is nothing else?" The Minister gave a cursory look around the table, then nodded to himself. "Dismissed."
The Three Broomsticks
Hogsmeade, Scotland
"This is madness, Rufus!" Diggory exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his mead sloshing in his glass. Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes at the other man as some drops of liquid flew across the table, and Diggory cleared his throat and set the glass down. "Arthur Weasley, the head of some secret international assassin group? All the Weasleys being questioned – Molly Weasley?"
"There is an angle here," Rufus said simply. "Surely you caught it."
The other man just stared at him blankly, his face flushing. "The Potter boy," he muttered. "To get to the Potter boy."
Rufus said nothing.
Diggory shook his head, his eyes solemn. "I lost my boy," he whispered. "I lost my boy, and the kid was there. All this time, I thought – " He picked up the glass, took another swallow. "But then You-Know-Who was in the Ministry, and I knew. He'd been telling the truth, the whole time. He tried to warn us, tried to tell the world the truth that my boy, my Ced," Diggory's eyes flashed angrily, "died a hero's death, and…"
"And he was vilified for it," Rufus finished simply, and Diggory flinched. The other man seemed to shrink in on himself for a moment, before he let out a shaky breath and squared his shoulders.
"Thicknesse is one of them, then," he said hollowly.
Rufus just nodded.
"The others?" Diggory asked, panic flashing in his eyes.
"I doubt it," Rufus replied. "They are just frightened and spineless."
"I can't," Diggory muttered. "I can't just pretend – "
"You're going to have to. We need you in place."
Diggory set the glass down again, his hand shaking. Meeting Scrimgeour's gaze, he asked quietly, "We?"
Rufus smiled.
They had lost Croaker – what the man had been thinking, to out Weasley like that, he had no idea. With Rufus and Croaker being the only two in the Ministry who knew the man's true job, he should have been safe. But Croaker had given Arthur Weasley up without a second thought.
But Diggory had a reputation for being emotional and hot-headed, and it would be easy to convince Fudge he had come around to their way of thinking.
Truly, it was one of Amelia's better ideas. The formidable witch realized she'd been too blunt, too overt in her opinions in the meeting, and she knew she would not be kept in the Ministry for long. She was planning a dramatic exit, but before that – Scrimgeour needed someone else on the inside.
"Yes," Rufus responded, grinning viciously. "We."
The Burrow
Ottery St Catchpole, Devon
"Aurors! Open up!"
Molly flew around the kitchen, her hands shaking as she whipped her wand left and right. The warning had come only fifteen minutes before, and there was no way she could get everything.
Who knew what would remain the next time she was able to come home?
She forced back tears, swiping impatiently at her hair as it fell in front of her eyes. A hand touched her back suddenly and she jumped, hand pressed to her chest as she spun around.
Ginny smiled at her softly, her daughter's brown eyes somber and focused.
"Make some noise next time, would you dear?" Molly asked quietly, and Ginny quirked a grin.
"I cleared out everything sentimental from upstairs and got as much from the living room as I could. Hermione is shrinking everything for me now."
"Open up!" Robairds called angrily, and Ginny cut a glare at the door.
Molly nodded absently, her eyes drawn to the clock in the corner.
Arthur's hand still rested on Mortal Peril. It hadn't moved for over a week.
"Mum," Ginny said kindly, squeezing her mother's arm. "Mum, we have to go."
"I need the china," Molly replied, shaking herself and turning back to the cabinets.
"Mum, we can't – "
"My brothers gave me this china as a wedding gift, I need the china," Molly said angrily, and Ginny sighed. Stepping forward, her daughter slashed her wand in a quick V motion, and all of the china flew out of the cabinets and landed in an empty box. A quick jab, and the box hurtled towards the living room.
Ginny's patience had run out, it seemed, because her girl grabbed her arm and all but dragged her into the living room. Molly fought back tears as Hermione looked up, giving her a sympathetic look before sending the last of the boxes through. "Right then," Hermione muttered. "Is this everything?"
Ginny glanced back over her shoulder, glaring angrily at the door. "I think it's going to have to be."
Hermione nodded, then turned on her heel and tapped the side of the fireplace. The grate suddenly groaned, and flames appeared. As Molly stared, Hermione leaned down and whispered something at the flames, Floo powder in her hand, then tossed the powder into the fire, stepping back and nodding to herself.
The brunette witch glanced at Ginny a moment, then stepped forward, disappearing into the flames. Molly had barely a second to say, "Wait – "
And Ginny shoved her into the fireplace, and her world spun.
Molly landed on the floor of Kingsley Shacklebolt's bachelor pad, tears streaming down her face.
Shell Cottage
Tinworth, Cornwall
"Try not to move," Poppy Pomfrey said kindly, her mouth twisted in a grimace as she looked down at the Weasley patriarch.
Bill winced as he saw his father's face contort in pain. He had been leaning back on two chair legs, but he dropped the chair with a thud, leaning forward immediately with his hands clasped between his knees. "Hi, Dad," he whispered, and his father's unfocused eyes slid towards Bill's face.
"The Ministry," his father gasped. "It's – "
"Don't worry," Bill said softly. "It's going to be alright."
"No," Arthur Weasley said through clenched teeth, "no. The Inferi, they were – "
"You stopped it, Dad," Bill replied, leaning forward and squeezing his dad's arm – on the one spot that had already fully healed. "You stopped them."
"So many," his father whispered, his eyes fluttering closed, and Bill shot Pomfrey a worried look.
"He's not out of the woods yet," she said quietly, a frown creasing her forehead. "That he woke at all, that he's coherent, it's a good sign, but…"
Bill nodded silently, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
"Your mum is safe. We got her from Shack's place and brought her here," Scrimgeour's gravelly voice sounded behind him, and Bill nodded again without turning. "Aurors went to retrieve her and found an empty house. They, uh – "
Turning in the chair, Bill raised an eyebrow at the older man, and Scrimgeour cleared his throat. "They claimed there was a spell set to destroy the house. Amelia and I are pretty certain they burned it down out of spite."
"Most likely, Thicknesse gave them orders behind my back," Bones said angrily from the doorway, and Bill met her furious gaze evenly. "They are escalating things quickly."
"Right out of the hostile takeover playbook," Scrimgeour nodded.
"And you don't believe Fudge knows that Thicknesse is a Death Eater," Bill asked, his eyes narrowed.
Scrimgeour snorted. "Fudge doesn't know his ass from his elbow. How do you think Malfoy was able to manipulate him all those years?"
"I think maybe we should call an Order meeting," Pomfrey said softly, and Bill glanced back at his father. The mediwitch smiled gently at him, then reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "I'll stay with him," she whispered. Bill grabbed her hand and squeezed her fingers in gratitude, then pushed to his feet as the older woman smiled.
"Do it," Bill said sharply, shooting a hard look at Bones, and the stately woman nodded, shooting off a Patronus then heading for the fireplace in the corner.
Bill pushed past Scrimgeour and quickly moved down the stairs, shaking his head when Fleur looked at him questioningly. She frowned back at him, a spark of sorrow and pity in her eyes. His fiancé was sitting in his armchair, a large tome spread on her lap and a quill scribbling furiously on its own beside her. On his couch, his mother sat with a large blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Tonks speaking to her quietly and rubbing her back. He chanced a look at his mother's face and felt a stab of pain when he saw the tears running down her cheeks.
Merlin, but he was learning to hate a little more every day. He felt the tell-tale surge start to build and he closed his eyes –
And a pair of thin arms wrapped around his middle, and he let out a sigh as Fleur pressed her cheek to his back. "Easy, mon ami," she whispered, and slowly, the electricity ebbed away. Bill squeezed her hands, lifting one to his lips and kissing her knuckles. He felt her smile against his back and gently pulled free of her arms, turning for a second to press a kiss to her forehead.
A glance at his mother showed her watching them silently, a watery smile on her face. Molly Weasley got to her feet shakily, squeezing Bill's arm as she walked by him and went up the stairs.
Bill sighed wearily then headed for the front door. Behind him, he heard Tonks spring to her feet and fall into step, and he moved quickly down the beach. Before he had managed to step off the porch, a small group appeared over the dunes, and he quirked a smile when he saw Harry and Ron's grim faces in the lead, with Hermione in lock-step with them, gesturing as they walked.
He stopped on the steps, watching as the group followed the Golden Trio up the beach. Harry glanced up at the cottage then clapped Ron on the shoulder, jogging up to join him.
"Done, then?" Bill asked lightly, and Harry frowned, shoving a sweaty clump of hair back from his face.
"As much as we can be," he replied with a scowl. "They're – they are getting there."
In the days since the Ministry was destroyed, Harry had kicked into overdrive. Bill had watched as the teen cornered Moody, demanding his help, then somehow managed to get some thirty-odd kids away from their families with a week left to the summer holidays, and they all bloody well disappeared. If not for the occasional messages from Harry, he would have gone spare with worry.
How Harry had managed to convince Moody to open up one of his safehouses, to go into training with the lot of them for a week, Bill would never understand. But – looking across the dunes at the small group, now standing in a clearly-structured semi-circle around Hermione and Neville, with Ginny, Ron and Luna standing back a few feet – he could see a difference. They were a unit, somehow, a cohesive group.
"I won't be able to be at the platform tomorrow," Bill said sadly. "None of us can."
Harry grinned viciously, and Bill just barely managed to stop himself from raising an eyebrow. "I dare the tosser to attack us at Kings' Cross," Harry all but snarled. "He'll have a really bad day."
"Aren't you confident," Tonks said drily, but Harry just shrugged.
This is new, Bill mused to himself. Harry was clearly pissed the bloody hell off.
"Your dad?" Harry asked, shooting Bill a worried look, and the cursebreaker shook his head.
"He woke up," Bill replied shortly. "Pomfrey says his chances are better, but…" He shrugged helplessly. "She's still not sure."
"He'll pull through," Harry murmured. His gaze sharpened slightly as he looked at the pair of them. "Heading out?"
"Order meeting," Tonks explained, popping her gum loudly. "Time to try to get the lay of the land."
"Coming?" Bill asked, and Harry nodded. Turning on his heel, the boy wrapped one hand around the pendant he wore next to the dragon tooth necklace, and down the shoreline, Neville started jogging their way. Harry stood silently waiting until the stocky teen reached them, then turned back to Bill and looked at him expectantly.
Bill quirked a grin, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal disk, tapping it with his wand. Tonks and the two teens touched the disk and he murmured under his breath, and they were gone.
Grimmauld Place
London, England
"Well, now that all us traitorous Weasleys are together again," George said with fake joviality, looking around the room.
"Well, not all of us," Fred corrected. "Where are Gin, Mum and – "
He trailed off, his face falling, and George elbowed him in the side.
"Mum stayed with Dad," Bill answered quietly, "and Ginny is working on a project." The cursebreaker slid into his seat, Harry moving to take his normal spot and Neville heading down to the end of the table with McGonagall. The elder witch patted his shoulder absently before leaning over to start a whispered conversation.
Harry watched them curiously for a moment before turning his gaze away, looking through the room in thoughtful silence.
Everyone seemed so – cowed.
He scowled to himself, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the runic charm he had taken to carrying. He turned the charm idly in his hands, staring blankly at it as his mind raced. The week of training at Moody's property – which truthfully, had been longer than a week, not that anyone but Bill, Viktor and Moody were ever going to know that – had done its job. The DA was a unit now, better trained than a year in regular DADA classes could have done, skilled with defense, offense, and, thanks to Krum, weapons. They were living up to their name. They were becoming an Army.
But it was easy to be brave when no one was attacking, and they were all still kids.
So are you, a voice sounded at the back of his mind, and Harry snorted. He hadn't been a kid since – well, ever, really.
He just hoped they were ready. Because Bill was right. With all the Weasleys on the Ministry's wanted list, and several other Order members – they were going to be the only ones who could guard the platform and the train. For Bill or any of the others to go to the platform, even in disguise, would be the height of recklessness.
Dumbledore swept into the room in a flurry of orange and teal robes, his normally twinkling eyes hard. The Headmaster moved immediately to the head of the table, settling into his chair and looking at them all solemnly.
In the silence that followed, Harry saw Amelia Bones and Scrimgeour slip into the room, Bones settling in a chair in the corner and Scrimgeour leaning against the wall, his arms crossed across his front and his wand dangling from one hand. The old lion of a man glanced at Harry, then looked over at Bill and nodded at the cursebreaker. Harry eyed Bill curiously, but his guardian said nothing.
"By now, you've all heard," Dumbledore said quietly. "The insult being dealt against the Weasley family by the Ministry is cold, calculated, and doubtless going to be very effective in sowing public discord. Several of our well-positioned members will now have to operate in the shadows. And the Deputy Minister post is now held by a Death Eater."
Murmurs broke out around the room, and Harry watched as Emmeline Vance and Mundungus Fletcher both paled. Everybody in the Order had already heard that the Weasleys, Tonks, Lupin and a couple others were wanted by the Ministry – but Thicknesse, apparently, was news to most of them.
"This summer has been a series of atrocities which we have barely survived," Dumbledore continued. "I admit that I did not expect Tom to go so quickly and brutally on the offensive. I thought he would take more time to strengthen his base, to operate in the shadows. It seems I've seriously misjudged his actions," the headmaster said sorrowfully. "With so many losses, we need to act quickly, to strike back, and to also hold the ground we have left. I have quite a few ideas where to start, but I am open to suggestions."
Silence reigned in the room as everyone shifted nervously, and Harry scoffed aloud. The Order members turned almost as one to look at him – and both Dumbledore and Bill looked rather amused, he noticed – and Harry flushed for a moment before stiffening his shoulders.
"We are on the trail of something that Voldemort desperately wants," he said quietly, "so I don't think that we have nothing working. We managed to clean out the Chamber of Secrets and Slytherin's secret book stash. We saved a ton of my classmates and stopped the entirety of Surrey from burning to ash. But there's a couple things I think we've overlooked. That woman, Vablatsky, in the hospital where Percy's girlfriend was attacked – Vance, you were able to get the hospital tapes, and you said Voldemort was in that room, right?"
Vance nodded thoughtfully her eyes narrowed.
"He went for her personally," Harry continued, "which means that likely, there was something she had or knew that he needed. We need to figure out what that is."
Dumbledore was watching him shrewdly as people nodded and murmured agreement around the table.
"Odds are that the platform or train will be attacked tomorrow," Harry said simply, and Neville grimaced from his end of the table. "Since the Order cannot be there, we were able to train many of our fellow classmates to defend the platform, the train, and once we're there, the school. Continuing that is necessary, I think, and we will."
"But really, to strike back against Voldemort, we need to remove his base." Harry took a deep breath, then said quietly, "I propose we take down Lucius Malfoy first."
Charlie stiffened, and Bill chuckled, and everyone started shouting.
Neville bit back a grin as the Order exploded into chaos. Harry was sitting silently at his spot near the head of the table, watching as everyone gestured and yelled. He shook his head as he heard McGonagall let out an impatient huff beside him, stuffing his fingers in his ears before –
A loud bang sounded as McGonagall shot off a firecracker from her wand, and the room fell silent once again, everyone, even Dumbledore, looking at McGonagall apologetically. The Scotswoman huffed again under her breath, then turned her attention to Harry.
"Potter," she said in a thick brogue, "while I certainly agree, we have wanted to take down Malfoy for quite some time, and there has yet to be an opportunity. You and the other children's fight with him at the Ministry a few months back is the closest we've come."
"Where would we even find him?" Fletcher scoffed, but Tonks and Shacklebolt were watching Harry curiously, and Lupin was grinning.
"Yes, Harry, where would we find him?" Lupin asked, his eyes gleaming with laughter, and Harry grinned wryly.
"He's at his manor," he said simply.
"You can't know that," Vance protested, and Harry just looked at her. Neville was staring at his friend, and suddenly he grinned. Harry winked at him, eyes sparkling.
"Yes, I can," Harry replied. "I have a source."
"How – ?" Tonks asked incredulously, and Dumbledore, who had been watching Harry silently, suddenly smiled, the twinkle appearing in his eyes.
"He can still get into the Manor, even after being freed?" he asked with a chuckle, and Harry shot a grin at the Headmaster. "Remarkable. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Most people don't think of house elves," Harry shrugged. "And it was Hermione's idea."
Shack chuckled as Tonks grinned from ear to ear.
"I figure," Harry continued, "between Dobby's knowledge and ability to get through the wards, and Mr. Weasley's knowledge from all his raids, we should have enough to at least get inside and, if not find Malfoy himself, then find something useful."
"Brilliant," Lupin breathed, a vicious grin spreading across his face, and Fletcher shook his head.
"If Arthur ever wakes up – " He trailed off, shooting a sheepish look at the Weasley sons in the room, and Bill shook his head.
"He woke this afternoon," Bill said quietly.
"There you have it, then." Dumbledore gave Harry another appraising look, then turned back to the room at large. "We have the makings of a plan. On to other matters. Rufus, have you been able to find anything about the missing children?"
Neville glanced at the grizzled man leaning against the wall, a sinking feeling in his stomach as the man scowled.
"Thicknesse is the one in charge of their location and 'care,'" the old Auror growled. "I've been able to make contact with a nurse they employ, and she says the children are all alive, but that's all so far. I'm working her."
"Dean Thomas," Neville said softly, and Scrimgeour cut his eyes in Neville's direction. "Is Dean Thomas there?"
Fred and George went grim and Harry's eyes hardened. "Yes," Scrimgeour replied tersely, and McGonagall let out a shaky breath next to him. Without looking at her, Neville reached out and clasped his hand on his Head of House's arm.
"How many children, Rufus?" Moody asked in a low growl, and Scrimgeour's face darkened.
"At least three dozen, so far, near as I can tell," he replied, "and from what the nurse said, they are bringing in more almost every day. They don't all speak English."
"Vat vould the Ministry vant vith so many children?" Krum asked darkly, and Harry shot the Bulgarian a look.
"I think the correct question," Shacklebolt replied, "is what does You-Know – Voldemort," he corrected himself, glancing at Harry, "want with so many children."
Vance paled.
"Have you any doubt that it is Thicknesse who suggested taking children?" Lupin asked lowly, and Scrimgeour shook his head.
"He's playing Fudge like a fiddle," Bones cut in, scowling angrily. "In the meeting, he would look to Thicknesse before he said anything, like he was looking for approval each time. It was sickening. And in that whole room, only Diggory, Hopkirk, and Mockridge showed the slightest sign of disagreement."
"Diggory would be useful," Dumbledore mused. "Rufus, you say you've been able to set him to some investigating for you?"
Scrimgeour nodded. "I don't recommend bringing him in," he said cautiously, and Moody and Shack both snorted at the same time.
"He's a hothead," Moody said gruffly. "And fickle as the wind."
"We aren't inducting new members any time soon," Dumbledore said ruefully. "Certainly not into the Inner Circle, at least. But… if they are proving useful, Scrimgeour," Dumbledore paused there, his eyes twinkling madly, "use them."
Scrimgeour nodded once, leaning back against the wall without another word.
"Amy," Moody growled, and Neville started before realizing the man was talking about Bones. The formidable woman raised an eyebrow and looked at Moody silently. "Are preparations in place?"
Bones nodded. "I have the network set, drop locations and code phrases all settled," she said with a frown. "It's just a question of who stays loyal once – "
"You're added to the list?" Shack finished, his lips quirking in a slight grin.
Bones simply nodded.
"All we can do is wait," Dumbledore said softly. "Well, if that concludes – "
"One thing," Vance cut in quietly, and Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence, looking patiently at the woman. Neville watched her silently – he wasn't sure why, but he had an awful feeling.
Vance bit her lip for a moment, then seemed to steel herself before saying, "The Ministry is saying Arthur is the one who burned down the Ministry building and nearly all of Diagon Alley."
"There is no evidence to support that," Bones replied evenly. "It's just a division tactic."
"But…" Vance trailed off, then shook her head. "Fortescue was my great-uncle. And his shop is gone. He – " She scowled angrily, brushing at her eyes with the back of her hand. "If there is any chance that Arthur did that, shouldn't we – ?"
"I'm sorry," one of the twins cut her off in a strangely chipper voice, and Neville turned to see Fred glaring angrily at the woman. "But it sounds like you're accusing our father of murder."
George just shook his head, and Charlie went pale. Neville chanced a glance up the table to Harry's face, then Bill's. Harry looked sad and angry, but Bill –
The cursebreaker met Neville's gaze, a perfectly blank expression on his face, and Neville swallowed.
Something was wrong. He could feel it.
"I don't mean – " Vance was saying nervously, "It's just – "
"Just what?" Charlie scowled, and Bill sighed.
"Please, everyone," Dumbledore cut in, his eyes solemn once again. "Now is not the time for infighting. Emmeline, we are all sorry for your loss. Truly. But there is no evidence to suggest that Arthur was anything but lucky to barely escape with his life."
Vance looked at Dumbledore with an uncertain frown, then bit her lip and nodded.
"I suggest we disperse," Dumbledore continued. "We all have much to do."
And without another word, Dumbledore stood and swept from the room as suddenly as he had come, and Neville stared after the Headmaster in confusion. Glancing up the table as the Order members began to murmur again, Neville met Harry's worried eyes, then stood and went over to his friend.
Something was going on. They needed to figure out what.
Platform 9 ¾
King's Cross Station
London, England
September 1, 1996
Blimey, but they were sitting ducks.
Ron stood silently on the platform, his eyes trained on the entrance to the hidden space. It was ten til eleven, and any other year, the platform would have been a bustle of activity, huge crowds, loud shouting, people laughing and crying and rushing about.
The quiet was unbearable.
He glanced to his right and nodded approvingly when he saw Sue and Justin pacing up and down their section of the platform, wands drawn and eyes scanning their surroundings. Further beyond them was Hannah and Seamus, and every twenty feet in either direction stood another pair of students, wands out, eyes alert.
They looked downright militant, and Ron really couldn't care less.
Everyone, from the Order down to the DA, had agreed that an attack on the train would be the next logical move. Thin as the Order was stretched – and as many who were now on the "Most Wanted" list – it was a lot easier for the DA to stand guard.
He'd thought his Mum was going to cry when he'd suggested that, but then, his Mum was crying a lot these days.
The train whistle sounded behind him, and Ron scoffed when he saw Justin jump at the noise. A quick glance at the train showed his sister and Neville moving through the carriages, checking each one for hidden assailants or traps of some sort. Bill's last-minute lesson had been rather helpful. He couldn't teach them everything, of course – but enough to have a fighting chance of finding something. Near the front of the train, he could see Luna slipping through the open spaces, little golden moths fluttering away from her hands and landing in random spots along the carriages.
He turned back to watch the opening and let out a shaky breath.
"It's been quiet," Harry said uneasily, suddenly appearing at Ron's shoulder, and Ron grunted in reply. Near the entrance, he could see Hermione talking quietly with an old crone that had to be Tonks – but so far nothing had –
A sudden commotion sounded, and Ron saw Hermione's eyes narrow and her knuckles go white around her wand. To her right, the platform entrance rippled and four Aurors stormed through, Dawlish and Proudfoot in the lead.
Dawlish's eyes zeroed right in on Ron and narrowed, and Ron braced himself for a confrontation. Beside him, he felt Harry stiffen, and a few feet back, Hermione had moved from the entryway.
"Mr. Ronald Weasley, we need you to come with us," Dawlish said sternly. "And fetch your sister, if you would, and Miss Granger, as well."
Ron drew his eyebrows together, looking at the Auror in puzzlement, and said simply, "I'm sorry, Auror Dawlish, what seems to be the trouble?"
Behind them, the whistle sounded again, and Ron just smiled pleasantly.
"Your parents are wanted fugitives," Dawlish snarled back, "along with Miss Granger's guardian. We are taking you into protective custody, by order of the Deputy Minister."
"I don't remember my Auntie saying anything about protective custody," a warm voice spoke up, and Ron glanced to the side to see Sue Bones standing just a few feet away, frowning at Dawlish.
"Madam Amelia Bones is also wanted for questioning," Dawlish said, turning to face Susan. "You're Susan Bones, then? You'll be coming with us as well. A Miss Hannah Abbott is being remanded along with Emily Abbott and yourself."
"No," Ron said simply, and Dawlish turned back to glare at him.
"What did you just say, boy?" the Auror almost roared, and Ron just turned to the side, glancing over at Sue.
"Get everyone else on the train and ready to go," Ron muttered to her. "Now." Sue nodded once and gestured to Justin, and the pair moved off in opposite directions, gathering everyone up.
"We are authorized to use force if necessary," Proudfoot spoke up quietly, and Ron glanced over at him, only to grin when he saw the man standing behind Proudfoot, a wrinkled hand on Hermione's shoulder.
"Force?" Dumbledore said quietly, and the Aurors spun to stare at the Headmaster. "That doesn't sound like protection to me. What seems to be the trouble here?"
Dumbledore squeezed Hermione's shoulder lightly, and his best friend nodded, stepping around the Aurors to grab Harry and Ron by the arm and steer them towards the train.
"You are interfering in a Ministry sanctioned – "
"My dear man," Dumbledore replied with a laugh, "where do you believe is safer for the children than Hogwarts itself?"
Harry stepped up onto the train, Hermione still tugging at Ron's arm, and they all three froze when Proudfoot replied.
"The order has been given to take Arthur Weasley to Azkaban upon capture. If his children know where to find him, we need them."
"Ron," Hermione whispered as Ron felt himself go cold. "Ron, we have to go."
"They're after my dad," he said through gritted teeth. "They are after my dad."
"They can't get to him now, mate," Harry replied bracingly. "You know he's behind a Fidelius now."
So were your parents, Ron thought viciously, but he shook his head. Bill had cast the charm on Shell Cottage and his mother and brothers' safehouse, and somehow found a way to make himself Secret Keeper, even though that wasn't supposed to be possible. No one was getting to them as long as they stayed in the houses.
"Right," he said angrily, and he nudged Hermione's arm, gesturing for her to get up onto the train. He pulled himself up behind her, and the second the door slid shut behind them, the train jerked forward. Ron chanced a glance out the window, and saw Dumbledore still standing between the train and two of the Aurors – Proudfoot and Dawlish still argued with him, but the other two had disappeared.
"We need to make sure everyone is on board," Hermione said nervously, glancing down the train. Ahead of them, Ron saw Neville and Luna heading their way, Neville frowning and Luna looking more pale than usual.
"Where's Ginny?" Neville asked, looking between the three of them with a furrowed brow, and Ron stared at him.
"What do you mean? She was on the train with you," Harry said quickly, his eyes darting over to Luna.
Neville shook his head. "She found something in one of the compartments and got off to go find you. We haven't seen her come back."
Ron's blood ran cold, and Hermione spun on her heel and shot a Patronus out the window.
Dumbledore smiled genially at Dawlish and Proudfoot, stepping back and straightening his robes. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have other matters to attend to. Lovely chatting with you both."
He turned on his booted heel and swept away, his mind racing. Trust Hermione Granger to have learned how to send a silent Patronus on her own. And trust Ginny Weasley to find trouble. Honestly, that child was almost as bad as Harry.
"Point Me Ginevra Weasley," he breathed, and his wand spun in the opposite direction from the train. He set off down the platform, eyes narrowed, casting revealing spells with every step. No traps appeared, no hidden attackers, and Albus felt his disquiet grow as he continued to find nothing.
He didn't want to see any harm come to the child. Not again. And he certainly didn't need another reason for young William to go off the deep end.
Ginny let out a tired sigh as she shoved to her feet, her eyes narrowed on the speck disappearing in the distance – the speck she was supposed to be on. How had she managed to do this to herself? Really, what had she been thinking, going to investigate the strange flash she'd seen by herself? She shook her head to clear it, frowning as she felt a stab of pain in her neck.
She wasn't normally clumsy like this. How had she tripped over – ?
She leaned down and picked up the offending item. A teddy bear. Really?
Then the muffled sound of sobbing reached her, and Ginny straightened quickly, drawing her wand as she carefully scanned her surroundings.
"Hello?" she called quietly, and the muffled sobs grew louder. Moving carefully towards the platform – her leg hurt, there was blood gushing from a gash near her kneecap, and her head was spinning slightly – she pushed herself up from the railway tracks and got unsteadily to her feet.
Merlin, she was losing blood fast, she thought idly. Narrowing her eyes, she glanced around again, her wand clenched a little tighter in her fist. "Hello!" she tried again, and the sobs stopped.
From behind a nearby pillar, a small head appeared. The girl couldn't have been more than nine or ten at most, with curly brown hair and dark, sad eyes, and as Ginny looked at the kids tear-stained face, she felt a swell of pity.
Poor kid was lost, probably.
"Where's my mummy?" the little girl whispered, and Ginny crossed the space and knelt beside the girl, forcing a kind smile onto her face.
"I don't know, sweetie, but I'll help you find her," Ginny said softly. "I'm Ginny, and you are?"
"Trudy," the little girl whispered back, and Ginny smiled again, handing the little girl the teddy bear that hung loosely from her hand.
"Hi, Trudy," Ginny murmured. "Do you remember where you last saw your mummy?"
Trudy shook her head. Her eyes were blank and empty. "She left me," the girl whimpered, clutching the teddy bear to her chest. "She left me here."
Ginny let out a tired sigh. Glancing around the platform again, she bit her lip. No one was nearby, as far as she could tell – she might have missed the train, but she hadn't gotten caught in an ambush, at least.
"Okay, Trudy," she straightened up and held out a hand. "Let's go to the front desk and see if we can find anything out."
"I don't like it there," the little girl whispered, tugging on Ginny's arm. "It's too loud. Stay here with me til Mummy comes back?"
Ginny stared evenly at the little girl. The kid's eyes were still dull and lifeless, and her demeanor was just plain strange. Alarm bells were starting to sound in the back of her mind – something wasn't right –
"Play with me," the little girl said insistently, and tugged on Ginny's arm sharply again.
"Kid, you're a little – "
"Play with me!" Trudy screamed suddenly, her cute little face twisting with rage, and the girl dove at her, a small blade slashing the air from her hand. Ginny swore viciously and jumped back, and the blade scraped across her side, slicing through her t-shirt as she dodged. She skidded back a couple steps, wand raised, and stunned the little hellion that was still running at her, screaming, and she choked back a gasp as the kid collapsed on the floor, her head hitting the stone with a loud crack. Her mind rebelled as she stared at the little girl, as blood began to spread from beneath her head –
Ginny stepped back and glanced back up the platform. She'd seen Dumbledore outside when she'd gotten off the train, maybe he was still –
Her head spun and Ginny swallowed as everything started to go blurry. With another swear, she snatched the knife from the ground, running her finger along the blade. The smell of lavender wafted up from the blade, and Ginny muttered another vicious swear as she collapsed to the ground.
Dumbledore knelt beside the little girl on the ground, his eyes solemn as he looked at the blood spreading behind her head. She was breathing, but only barely, and the child was pale and emaciated, her little face tinged with blue.
But there was no sign of Ginny.
He straightened, looking around himself with narrowed eyes. Stepping forward, he moved towards the train railway, the disquiet growing.
Ginny would not have just vanished on her friends and family. She would not make them worry like this.
There was blood on the ground nearby, he saw, and perhaps it belonged to the little girl, but –
He traced the outline with his wand, murmuring softly, and closed his eyes when he saw Ginny Weasley's face appear in the reflection of the nearest droplet.
He had failed the girl. Again.
Climbing to his feet, Albus shot a half dozen Patroni into the sky, then spun on his heel and vanished.
Headmaster's Office
Hogwarts
Bill hit the doors with a snarl, slamming into the Headmaster's office and striding right up to the desk. His heart was pounding in his ears, red flashing over his vision, and he could feel sparks shooting through his veins as he struggled for control.
"You lost my sister," he hissed at the stricken elder, his eyes flashing as Dumbledore looked solemnly back at him.
"Bill!" Shack's voice sounded from behind him, and Bill felt a hand on his arm. Without looking away from Dumbledore, Bill grabbed the other man's hand, bending his wrist back slightly, and he twisted then let go when he heard Shacklebolt let out a grunt.
Maybe Shack could have crushed him like a bug, but the bigger man just sighed and stepped back instead.
"You said we couldn't go to the platform," Bill ground out, stepping closer to the desk. "Even though I am not on the wanted list yet, you said you would see to their safety. And you lost her."
"Yes," Dumbledore said simply.
Bill drew a breath and stared at the older man.
"Bill," Lupin cut in suddenly, "sit down."
Bill spun on his heel and glared at his friend, and Lupin just quirked a brow. He was standing by the fireplace, his eyes dark and angry, with Tonks to his right. Glancing around the room, he saw McGonagall watching him sadly, Snape glaring as usual, and Shack watching him with a mixture of grudging respect and annoyance.
Right. Calm. He could do calm.
He turned and conjured a chair, sitting down casually and turning to face Dumbledore. The Headmaster was watching him silently, his hands steepled on the desk.
"Want to explain how this happened?" he asked in a cold voice, and Dumbledore frowned.
"Harry and the others Ported off the train back to Shell Cottage when they realized Ginny was missing, as you know," Dumbledore began, and Bill nodded impatiently. He'd panicked when Harry burst into his shop saying Ginny was missing, and he'd bustled the kids through the Floo to Hogwarts and summoned Fleur to sit with his father. He had set every trap he could imagine on every possible entrance to the cottage before following.
And the whole time, he had been seething.
"Between the kid's statements and what Dumbledore found," Shack cut in, "Ginny found something on the train that concerned her, and she got off the train to go show it to Hermione, Ron and Harry. But for whatever reason, she ended up going further down the platform, alone."
"I started looking for Ginny as soon as Miss Granger's Patronus hit me," Dumbledore continued. "Instead, I found a little girl with a cracked skull and traces of Ginny's blood. My assumption is the child was Imperiused to attack Ginny with something that would disable her, so she could be more easily removed."
"So someone was able to get onto the platform and take Ginny away right under your nose," Bill hissed. "Maybe you shouldn't be in charge anymore, old man, you can't even keep the kids safe."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shack stiffen and Tonks shoot him an incredulous look. An image rose up in his mind – the kids sitting bound on his couch, a knife at Harry's throat, in his own living room.
Hypocrite, he thought at himself angrily, and he shook his head, balling his fists as he struggled against the rising current in his veins.
"It was simply yet elegantly done," Dumbledore said softly, ignoring Bill's outburst. "Your sister is an extremely smart and capable young woman, but she has a protective streak. Using a child to lure her was brilliant strategy."
"That suggests, though," Lupin said softly, "that someone on the train planted something in hopes of getting one of the kids off the train and alone."
"It might not have been specifically aimed at her, either," Tonks added. "Let's face it, any of the kids would have done the same for a child."
"But now Ginny is in Ministry hands. Or worse," McGonagall said softly, and Bill let out another long, slow breath between clenched teeth.
"Right," he said sharply. "We already needed to find where they took the missing kids, but it just became priority number one. Not just for Ginny's sake – but because the other kids are in danger if Voldemort is gunning for her, and they're all trapped together with no defenses."
"Agreed," Shack rumbled, and Moody nodded in the corner.
"Severus?" Dumbledore asked, looking at the dour man near the back of the room, and Bill glanced over at the Potions Master, who glared back at him.
"I will return as soon as I can," Snape said to Dumbledore, turning and stalking from the room.
As the Floo flared up and Charlie and his mother stepped through, the twins on their heels, Bill pushed to his feet and headed for Gryffindor Tower.
Somewhere in England
Ginny sat up gingerly, her arms shaking as she rested her weight on her palms. She was lying in a dark cell, a small cot in the corner and a water dish on the floor.
Stupid, she thought angrily at herself. How could you be so stupid?
A quick check showed her wand was gone, but reaching for her throat, Ginny smiled. The disguise on the communication pendant had worked. They hadn't found it.
She pushed carefully to her feet, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of life or a possible trap. Moving carefully to the edge of the bars, she peered down the hall for any sign of life. The cell seemed to be in a corner, and she couldn't see anyone in the space across from her. "Hello?" she whispered.
"Ginny?" a voice called back, and Ginny swallowed as Dean Thomas's voice echoed through the cell.
"Hi Dean," she replied shakily, and let out a tired sigh as she pressed her head to the bars. So she had found the missing students, or at least one of them.
Too bad she was trapped with them.
"What are you doing here?" Dean asked confusedly. "I thought they were only taking Muggleborns."
"This isn't the Ministry, Dean," she said earnestly. "This is – "
A pair of shiny black boots appeared in her vision, and Ginny's voice trailed off as she looked up, meeting the cold blue eyes of her captor. Lucius Malfoy looked at her with a smile, his long blond hair tied back from his face and his cane held loosely between his fingers.
"Ginevra Weasley," Malfoy said smoothly. "What a pleasure to see you again."
Slytherin Dorms
Hogwarts
Draco Malfoy sat on his four-poster bed, a letter held in his shaking hands as he stared blankly at the curtains. He swallowed convulsively, closing his eyes before opening them again and looking back down at the letter.
No. Still real.
He was slated to be Marked at the end of the school year.
He balled the parchment in his fist and dug his nails into his palms, hissing as sharp pains shot through his hand. With a groan, he dropped the parchment and shoved his hands into his hair, dropping his head onto his knees and closing his eyes again.
Malfoys weren't slaves. Hadn't his father always told him that?
Letting out a shaky breath, he flattened out the letter again and stared contemplatively down at the words. I have a gift for you, the second to last line read, although it is not cooperating on helping with the the next one.
What gift?
He threw himself back against the wall with a huff, closing his eyes again. No amount of diamonds or racing brooms would be enough to make him want a fucking brand on his arm.
Then his eyes popped open, and he shot back upright, grabbing the letter. The gift was not cooperating?
He stared blankly ahead again, his eyes narrowed on a random point on the wall, then he shot to his feet.
He'd always struggled with impulse control. That was how he usually got into trouble. From the day when he was seven that he'd destroyed his mother's prize roses when she wouldn't let him have a dog, to the day he decided to snarl at precious Potter for choosing a Weasley over him, he acted without thinking a lot of the time.
Which was probably how he found himself standing on the moving staircase in the Headmaster's Tower, that letter in his hand.
He hated Potter and his friends. Potter, the Know-It-All Mudblood, and their merry band of Blood Traitors, Loonies and Bumbling Fools. Every last one of them.
But he was still standing on that staircase.
The door slid open, and Draco looked up to see Dumbledore watching him patiently, an amused but questioning look on the Old Fool's face.
"Mr. Malfoy," the Headmaster said genially. "This is unexpected. What can I do for you?"
Malfoy took one look at the Headmaster, swallowed, and shook his head. He shoved the letter back into his pocket with a shaking hand. "Nothing, Headmaster," he said evenly. "I've forgotten why I came here."
The Headmaster just gazed at him curiously, then smiled gently at him. "Very well, Mr. Malfoy. Just remember, help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."
The man was a nutter. Right. That clinched it, then. Malfoy nodded blankly, gave the Headmaster a tight-lipped smile, then turned and headed back down to the dorms.
Once in his rooms, he closed himself back in the curtains and drew out a clean parchment.
Father,
I am curious what gift you could have possibly gotten for me, so soon after I've just left for school. I am of course excited for the end of the year, and honored to hear that I have been chosen…
Defense Professor's Quarters
Hogwarts
Kingsley Shacklebolt sat down in the leather armchair with a tired sigh, stretching his long legs out in front of him as he sipped slowly on the tumbler of whiskey. Merlin, but his first day as a teacher had been stressful.
The kids were rightly furious and shaken with the disappearance of Ginny Weasley. The kid was a firecracker, and no doubt, she'd prove difficult to subdue or wear down, but…
He shuddered as images of Brighton, the Ministry, Leeds flashed through his mind, and he closed his eyes, willing the terrible scenes away.
But she was being held by the people who had done that.
She was just a fucking kid.
Shack set the tumbler down with a sharp thud, rubbing his hand over his face as he sat up. Bill was right, they needed to find her and the other kids ahead of every other mission, but –
The truth was, if they had been able to find the kids, they would have already done something by now. They just didn't have enough to go on yet.
Snape's face flashed through his mind, and he heard the echo of Dumbledore's voice, Severus? His eyes narrowed and he pushed to his feet. There was no way Snape knew nothing about where the missing kids were being held. Absolutely no way.
You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment, boy, Moody's voice sounded in his mind, and Shack's lips twisted in a scowl. Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn't.
He moved quickly out of his quarters and headed down to the dungeons, trailing his wand along the wall as he searched for hollow spaces. It only took him about forty minutes to find the space that had to be Snape's chambers, and with a scowl, he Disillusioned himself and slipped into a corner to wait.
He wasn't sure how much time passed before the sound of stone grinding echoed through the corridor. As he watched, Snape stepped out of the room and into the hallway, his eyes narrowed as he looked up and down the hall. After a moment, the man turned on his heel and swept down the corridor, pausing as he came to the stairs. With an angry mutter that Shack couldn't quite hear, the man headed down, further into the dungeons, and Shack followed him from a distance.
They moved through winding passageways, the space becoming more and more dank and musty, and finally, cells came into view. As he watched, Snape tapped on the stones in the wall inside the fourth cell and disappeared through an opening. He settled back in the shadows again, waiting.
And when Snape reemerged and left, he didn't. Shack waited until the sound of the Potions Master's footsteps had faded completely before he moved, slipping carefully into the cell and shooting several little-known revealing spells at the wall. He grinned as one he'd learned from Moody hit the stones and glimmered, and carefully, he tapped on the stones in the order they lit up. The stones melted away, forming an opening in the wall, and Shack stepped through.
He stood in the center of a candle-lit room, small tables and shelves all around him. And all around him were pictures, hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of a smiling girl with auburn hair.
He stepped forward, feeling himself go cold as his eyes narrowed on the tables in the center. Those pictures weren't of Lily Potter. Those were –
And the rage hit, white hot and blinding, and Kingsley balled his hands into fists, a snarl escaping from between his clenched teeth. He had known. He had known.
The sound of footsteps echoed behind him, and Shack spun around, too late, to see Severus Snape standing behind him, a chilling smile on the twisted man's face.
"Find anything interesting?" Snape asked softly, and Shack just met the smaller man's eyes and raised his wand. Snape just looked pointedly down at Shack's feet, at the ring drawn on the ground.
The ring that he had stepped right into.
Everything went black.
~*~ALIBI