Ron must have sensed that something was off with Harry's mood after the Quidditch match, but he did not confront Harry about it. Harry almost would have preferred a shouting match to the awkward silence – he and Ron had never been good about discussing matters like this, especially when someone they both loved (Ginny) was involved. They avoided each other for the rest of the weekend, mostly keeping to their rooms or listening to Neville excitedly recount his lovely dinner with his Gran and Professor Sprout. Harry settled in for yet another tedious week at the Auror Office.
But it was not to be. The moment they arrived on Monday morning, Robards called all the Aurors together for a group meeting. Harry knew it must've been a serious matter when Robards sealed the room and cast several protective enchantments on the door to prevent any eavesdropping. "We've received a huge lead on the whereabouts of several escaped Death Eaters," he announced to the room. "Nott, Avery, Rowle, Travers, and Rookwood. Turns out they've been traveling together through the countryside, and we've pinpointed their location to a mansion just outside Newcastle."
"Ah, a good ol' fashioned raid then?" asked Savage, looking positively gleeful. "Been ages since we've had one o' them."
"Indeed," said Robards. "We've been keeping an eye on the location over the weekend, but we need to move quickly before they decide to change locations. We strike tonight, which means we have loads to prepare for today."
Harry, Ron and Neville exchanged nervous looks. This was what they'd expected to be doing when they all joined the Auror Office, but now, presented with the reality of it after months of tedium, they were nervous. Harry didn't want to admit it, but he felt rusty, unsure of his abilities. He'd fought Death Eaters before, but they had always been holding back, toying with him, unwilling to kill him on Voldemort's orders; no such handicap existed now. They would be highly dangerous, and death was a real possibility now.
"You three," said Robards, addressing the Junior Aurors. "You've all faced combat with Death Eaters before, so I'm including you in tonight's plans. But you will be largely doing support work, allowing the more experienced Aurors to take the initiative. Each of you will be paired with a more senior member, and you will listen to everything they say—"
"With all due respect, sir," Harry piped up, "we have experience fighting together. Wouldn't it make sense for us to act as our own independent squad?"
"Tempting," said Robards, "but I don't want any weak links in the chain. If they catch wind that one of the exits is guarded by three teenagers, they'll all shift focus and blast their way out through you."
Harry wanted to argue, but he knew Robards had a point. He, Ron and Neville had been practicing their spell work lately using the study packets Hermione had created for them, but they still struggled to perform basic tasks that the more senior Aurors could surely do in their sleep.
Robards pointed his wand at the giant board behind him and said, "Cartis Avis." The board began to fill in with detail, as a large stone mansion materialized from a bird's-eye view surrounded by a roughly quarter-mile radius of surrounding land. "This is the mansion we've pinpointed them to. This—" Robards flicked his wand so that a yellow dotted circle appeared around the mansion. "—is where we estimate they've set up their protective enchantments. And this—" With another flick of his wand, another dotted circle appeared, blue this time, a few hundred feet wider than the first. "—is where we will set up our own."
"What kind of enchantments?" Ron asked.
"Anti-Disapparation Jinxes, Muffling Charms, Repelling Hexes," Robards rattled off, "the standard fare. Their bubble will attempt to keep us out. Ours will attempt to keep them in."
"And we'll be stuck in there with them until the job is done," Savage said gruffly. "So once the enchantments are up, either we defeat them or they defeat us."
"Yes, that is the reality of the job," Robards said grimly. "We'll have Ministry support on standby, but they won't be able to lift the enchantments to get in themselves until whatever happens has happened."
"So once we seal ourselves in," Harry asked, "how do we get through their enchantments?"
"Well, Proudfoot is our resident Charms expert," said Robards. "She'll assess their bubble and see what kind of counter-jinxes can be done to undo theirs. And if that fails, we'll have to force our way in."
"Force?" said Neville, looking alarmed.
"Enchantments aren't foolproof, and they can be broken," said Robards, "as we saw at Hogwarts last spring. Given enough time and willpower, you can break through anything. That is of course the last resort, because it will alert them to our presence and give them time to set up defenses."
"Shouldn't take long to crack, though," Proudfoot chimed in confidently. "They've been on the run for months. Their spell work is getting sloppier; it's how we managed to find them in the first place."
"Yes, that is the hope," Robards agreed. "One would hope that they see the writing on the wall and turn themselves in once we apprehend them. But you can never count on a Death Eater to do the rational thing, I'm afraid."
"And if they don't?" Ron asked apprehensively.
"We fight," Robards shrugged. "The Ministry prefers that we capture them all alive, of course, but if that isn't an option, we have the authorization to kill." That sent a chill down Harry's spine. He'd already cast two of the three Unforgivable Curses in his lifetime, and he hoped to never utter the third – the Killing Curse. But to know that he would have the permission of the Ministry to use it if necessary? It both frightened and enthralled him.
"Do we need to have 'the talk' with Potter?" Savage asked, and a few nearby Aurors snickered at this.
"The what now?" Harry asked.
"Ah yes," said Robards. "Listen Potter, we all know what you've accomplished with the Disarming Charm, but please don't think it will work forever. Dark wizards have many ways to harm or even kill you without a wand, so if you must use non-lethal spells, at least make sure they can't retaliate."
"Understood," Harry said, feeling a little embarrassed. He'd learned last year that he had a reputation among the Death Eaters for over-using the spell, and even Dumbledore's Army had found it silly that he relied on it so heavily. But he was an Auror now. Expelliarmus may have been a useful trick when he was a schoolchild, but that grace period was over. He needed to update his toolkit to include more potent options.
They spent the rest of that morning discussing the map and assigning positions to each Auror. Harry was posted at the northwest corner, atop a low hillside overlooking the mansion property, alongside Savage and a quiet Auror named Jasper. Ron would be with Proudfoot and Williamson to the south, while Neville was with Robards and Grant to the east. Harry was a bit nervous to be split up from his friends, unable to know what was happening to them during the fight (if there was one), but he dedicated his efforts to his own task since it was the only thing he could control.
That afternoon, Robards summoned the three Junior Aurors to the training room for a last-minute practice session. "Silence will be crucial for this operation, so non-verbal spells are a must," he told them. "I want to see what progress you've made. Weasley and Longbottom together now; Potter, you and me." They took turns exchanging silent hexes and shield charms; Harry was able to consistently parry Robards' attacks but his counter-hexes were sporadic at best. Ron and Neville had even less success; they too could summon shields fairly often, but any time one of them managed to cast a non-verbal hex, it surprised both of them so much that it hit the other person directly.
Robards stopped their sessions after about one fruitless hour. "Okay, it's clear you haven't quite mastered your nonverbal casting," he sighed. "That's all right. Let your fellow Aurors take the lead, and focus on defense. If you do have to fight for your life, silence is probably no longer an option anyway, so do what you must."
Never had Harry felt so under-powered as he did at this moment. He remembered back to his fifth year, watching Dumbledore and Voldemort duel in the Atrium, two wizards at the height of their powers, effortlessly slinging nonverbal curses at one another that were more powerful than any magic Harry had seen before or since. He assumed at the time that he would one day learn to master this power, but even the most advanced Aurors in the department didn't seem capable of what they'd done. Of course, Voldemort was performing the most horrible of dark magic, while Dumbledore had the Elder Wand and was no stranger to dark magic himself from his youth.
Was there merit to studying the dark arts, purely for self-defensive purposes? Harry had never felt more powerful than the times he'd cast the Unforgivable Curses, or the time he used Sectumsempra against Draco Malfoy in his sixth year. Sure, it was frowned upon, but what if they were giving themselves a disadvantage against the Death Eaters? They had no qualms about studying such dark spells, which were clearly more powerful than anything they taught at Hogwarts. Was Harry doing himself a disservice by only studying the spells deemed "appropriate" for use? If his life was on the line, what did it matter what was considered "appropriate" anymore?
Robards summoned everyone back together at five o' clock. "Now, everyone head home as if it was a normal day," he ordered. "Don't want to tip anyone off that we're planning anything. Eat your supper, try to get some rest. Tell nobody what we're planning. We meet at our designated points at quarter to midnight. Got it?" Everyone murmured in agreement, then began trickling out of the office.
Harry, Ron and Neville hastened out the door to return to Grimmauld Place, and they ran into Arthur Weasley heading to the lifts. "Ah, good to run into you boys!" said Arthur. "Molly's fixing supper if you want to stop by for food and brews."
"Erm…" said Harry, remembering Robards' instructions to tell nobody their plans. "Can't tonight, Arthur. Got dinner plans of our own."
"Just the three of you, in that dusty old house?" Arthur scoffed. "C'mon, son, join us—" Ron did his best to stare at the floor, avoiding his father's gaze.
"My Gran's coming over tonight," Neville blurted out. "We promised her a nice, quiet evening at home. Sorry, sir."
"I see," Arthur said, looking not entirely convinced. "Well, another night then." He seemed to sense the awkward tension in the air, because he stepped into a separate lift when they reached the end of the hall, and they didn't see him again when they arrived at McCamish Station to leave the Ministry.
"That was close," Harry chuckled, but when he looked at Ron, he was surprised to see a single tear rolling down his cheek.
"What if that's the last time he ever sees me?" Ron wondered aloud in a constricted voice. "I couldn't even look at him...and I didn't say goodbye, knowing I might die tonight—"
"Come off it, mate, nobody's dying tonight," Harry reassured him. "They'll understand when they read the Prophet tomorrow morning, and we've rounded up five Death Eaters. We'll be heroes!"
"You might be used to being the hero, mate," Ron shuddered. "Never been too keen on it myself." Harry was about to make a crack in response to this, but he saw that Neville too also looked white-faced and unsure of himself as they stepped onto the train car.
"We've faced way worse odds than this before," Harry muttered as the doors slammed shut behind them. "I trust both of you with my lives." He hoped that this would be enough to calm them.
Harry continued his pep talk when they returned to Grimmauld Place. He took the initiative in cooking dinner that evening, and he ordered both Ron and Neville to try to eat something. Ron managed to finish his plate before getting up to shut himself in his room, while Neville couldn't even finish half of his before retiring himself. Harry wasn't hungry whatsoever, but he did force himself to finish Neville's plate before heading up to his own bedroom.
He knew a few hours of sleep would do wonders, but his mind was too agitated to even dream of falling asleep. He gave up after an hour of staring at the bedroom ceiling, and busied himself with Hermione's study notes. He taught himself two new hexes and a nonverbal Sonic Charm, which created large sound waves to deafen anyone within twenty feet of him. He wasn't sure how useful it would be, but any new tool in his arsenal was a welcome one right now.
As the clocked approached quarter to midnight, Harry gathered everything he thought he would need. He equipped his golden cuff bracelet and his utility belt, which was stocked with a healing potion, a sleeping potion, and a small pinch of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. He put on a light Shield Vest and activated it, then slipped into a set of robes. He had everything he needed – now there was the matter of what wand to use.
Harry stared at the top drawer of his dresser, where the three wands were stored. His holly wand, Draco Malfoy's hawthorn wand, and the Elder Wand. He'd resisted the temptation to rely on the Elder Wand thus far, but if ever there was a time to do so, it was in a life-of-death situation such as this. There was always the risk that he'd pass on ownership to a Death Eater by accident, but the risk of losing one of his friends because he was an insufficient wizard far outweighed that one in his mind. He stowed the Elder Wand in his robe pocket and headed out to the landing to meet the others.
Ron and Neville clearly hadn't gotten any sleep either, but they were alert all the same, eyes wide with either terror or sheer adrenaline – possibly both. "Right," said Harry, checking his watch. "I guess this is where we part. Are we ready?"
"Yeah," Ron said weakly. Neville mustered only a small nod that looked more like a twitch.
"Just stay alert, and don't panic," Harry reassured them. "I don't give a rat's ass what Robards says, if the fighting starts, I'm coming to find you guys straight away."
"No you won't," Neville stammered. "You man your station like the rest of us."
"Yeah," said Ron. "Don't be a hero, mate. I'm not letting a Death Eater escape because you abandoned your post on our behalf."
Maybe Harry was wrong after all. They were ready, even if their body language said otherwise. Harry had seen both of them perform courageous acts under threat of certain death, so he didn't know why he expected otherwise. "All right, fine," he sighed. "See you on the other side of it, then." And with that, the three of them turned on the spot, Disapparating to their separate posts.
Savage and Jasper were already there when Harry materialized on the chilly hillside. They wordlessly put a finger to their lips, indicating for him to stay quiet; he obliged, and crouched low beside them. Over the crest he could see the mansion, sitting in the middle of an overgrown field that hadn't been tended to in what looked like years. The mansion itself was boarded up and half-falling apart, and it was completely dark within.
"Looks deserted," Harry whispered.
"Yeah, but that's what their enchantments want us to believe," Savage whispered back. "Once Proudfoot drops the protections, we'll see what it really looks like."
They sat there in silence, waiting, with only the whistling wind to accompany them. Harry shivered; he wished he had put on an extra layer beneath his robes, but he said nothing, steeling himself against the frigid cold. Then, with five minutes til midnight, their bracelets glowed, and a message from Robards appeared: Begin the outer layer.
Savage and Jasper turned away from the mansion and began muttering incantations under their breath. Harry joined them, using the limited protective enchantments he was aware of from his time running through the countryside with Ron and Hermione the year before. A shimmering wall of light gradually came into being all around them, barely perceptible to the human eye. Harry knew the same was happening at all the other stations around the mansion, encasing the area in a protective bubble. Once they were done, the three lowered their wands. They were now stuck in here with the Death Eaters, for better or for worse.
They turned their attention back towards the mansion. Savage checked his own watch. "Midnight," he grumbled. "Proudfoot'll be working on the counter-charms now." Harry squinted to the south, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of her at work on the inner enchantment bubble, but he could see nothing through the oppressive darkness. The silence and the cold were all that remained, and Harry fought to calm his mind, to ready himself for whatever might come next…
Then, a piercing howl split the night, followed by a dozen identical shrieking sounds that made Harry flinch. "Caterwauling Charm," Jasper muttered. "She must've got too close—"
"What do we do?" Harry asked, alarmed.
"Nothing," Savage barked. "We wait for the signal."
"But what if she's in danger?" Harry demanded. "What if they go out looking for her?"
"We cannot break rank in case the Death Eaters make a break for it," Jasper retorted. "Stand your ground, Potter. This is the job."
Harry was in agony, staring at the dark nothingness obscured behind the bubble before him, left only to imagine what might be happening. What if the Death Eaters had already pounded on Proudfoot? What if Ron and Williamson were dueling with five dark wizards at this very moment? What if they lost all three Aurors and the Death Eaters escaped to the south, without Harry doing a single thing to stop it? He couldn't stand the thought for a second longer. He launched himself to his feet.
"Don't do it, Potter!" Savage yelled, but Harry was already pointing the Elder Wand down the hill at the mansion below.
"Bombarda Maxima!" he bellowed. He felt a warm current of energy pass through his arm and out the tip of his wand, blasting the inner enchantment bubble. It was illuminated brightly for a split second, encasing the mansion grounds in a golden dome, then it shattered into a million beads of light, raining down upon the ground like shattered glass. Harry stared in awe at the Elder Wand, amazed at the raw power it had just shown him.
"Movement!" hissed Jasper, and Harry looked down the hill again. The mansion was now properly revealed to them, flooded with light, and five figures were scattering out of the building across the darkened grounds in all different directions. Without thinking, Harry sprinted down the hillside, ignoring the cries of protest from both Savage and Jasper behind him.
Two of the Death Eaters spotted Harry and fired curses up the hillside at him, but Harry lazily flicked them away with a wordless Shield Charm. Stupefy! Harry thought, and to his amazement, a brilliant jet of red light shot out of the Elder Wand, knocking one of the Death Eaters clean off his feet. It was the most powerful Stunning Spell he'd ever produced, and he'd done it non-verbally. The other Death Eater froze, no doubt shocked at the force of the spell that had felled his partner. He raised his own wand—
Protego! Harry thought, and a Shield Charm exploded in front of him, staggering the larger man. Harry didn't hesitate before firing a counter-jinx: Incarcerous! Thick ropes burst from his wand tip and wrapped themselves around the Death Eater, pinning his arms to his side, his wand clattering uselessly to his side. Harry reached the man and kicked the wand away, watching as he writhed and sputtered under the constricting binds.
"Slow down, Potter!" Savage barked, sprinting down the hill behind him. "Let us take the lead!" But Harry heard shouts to his right and saw distant jets of light flying through the darkness; he sprinted in their direction. Ron was someone out there in the darkness. He could not see where he was going, or who was who in this darkness, but he didn't care. His every instinct propelled him into the action, no thought for his own safety, only those of his allies…
Harry saw a duel happening as he arrived at the southern end of the grounds: two on three, with the Death Eaters on defense and outnumbered. Protego! Harry thought, and another Shield Charm interrupted the fighting as all eyes turned towards him. Before the Death Eaters could react, Harry pointed his wand at the nearest one and flicked his wand upwards, thinking, Levicorpus! The man yelped in surprise as he was lifted off his feet by the ankle, suspended ten feet in the air; a moment later, he was hit by a Stunning Spell from one of the Aurors. Harry turned towards the other Death Eater, but Ron was already finishing him off with a perfect Freezing Charm to immobilize him, followed by a Stunning Spell to render him unconscious.
"Alright there, Ron?" Harry asked, approaching his friend. Ron looked unharmed, but his eyes were as wide as ever.
"Where the hell did you come from, mate?" he demanded. "One second we tripped the Caterwauling Charm, then the bubble exploded, then it was chaos—"
"Never mind that," Harry said, wheeling around. "We got four. Where's the fifth?"
"Here," grunted a deep voice; Robards emerged from the darkness, levitating an unconscious Travers ahead of him. "Now is somebody going to tell me what the hell happened? Who broke rank?"
"Potter," growled Savage, who had emerged with Jasper, also levitating two Death Eaters in front of them and depositing them with the others on the grass. "He took down the barrier and just ran in."
"And how the hell did you do that?" Robards demanded, rounding on Harry. "Never seen an enchantment barrier explode like that before."
"It was a tricky one to crack," Proudfoot admitted. "I was getting close, but they set it up well—"
"It was an Exploding Charm, boss, saw it myself," Savage chimed in. "Didn't think it would work, but it came down in a single shot."
Harry's cheeks burned scarlet; he hastily stowed the Elder Wand back in his robes. "Erm...got lucky, I guess," he shrugged. "Proudfoot must've weakened it enough for me."
Robards glared at him, not seeming to believe Harry, but apparently deciding it didn't matter at the moment. "As for breaking rank," he said, "I thought I gave you explicit instructions to remain behind your fellow Aurors?"
"Yeah, you did," Harry grumbled. "But I handled it, didn't I?"
"Fortunately, yes," said Robards. "By the looks of it, Rookwood won't be waking up until Boxing Day after that Stunner you gave him. Guess the rumors are true, aren't they?"
"Rumors?" Harry gulped. For a second he was sure Robards was about to out him for using the Elder Wand and confirm its existence to the rest of the Aurors.
"You lot really do perform better under pressure," Robards whistled, looking from Harry to Ron and Neville. "Your mate Longbottom here got Travers with a beautiful Body-Bind Jinx. Saw him running before even I did."
"Weasley got Nott as well," Proudfoot chimed in.
"So by my count, that's all five Death Eaters you three caught single-handedly," Robards said. "Maybe I underestimated you. Rest assured there will be an investigation and punishments for breaking protocol, but for now, well done, boys."
Harry wasn't sure how to respond to this. He felt immensely guilty, not only for disobeying Robards' orders, but for his use of the Elder Wand. He had felt something tonight that he never once felt in his life, even when he had the upper hand against Voldemort: he felt invincible. The electric energy coursing through his body through that wand warmed him despite the frigid temperatures, and his heart still pounded out of his chest from what he had accomplished tonight. He could sense the mingled awe and fury coming from the other Aurors, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.
Robards called in the Ministry reinforcements to clean up the scene and ordered Harry, Ron and Neville to leave before the press arrived. They Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, but within minutes Ron had left for the Burrow while Neville went to his Gran's to inform their families what had happened. Harry crawled under the covers of his bed, not even bothering to undress, too overwhelmed with emotion. He was feeling many things at that moment: relief that his friends were alright, pride that they had succeeded, shock at the raw power he'd harnessed, anger that he'd been chastised for single-handedly winning them the fight.
But above all, he was afraid. Afraid of the consequences he might face. Afraid of the attention this display of power would give him once the media learned what had happened. Afraid of the thin piece of wood nestled in his pocket, lying dormant now but capable of terrible magic, magic he'd never dreamed possible. He knew now that if he wanted to, he could grow his power and become just as powerful as Dumbledore once was, devoting his life to mastering the Elder Wand and becoming one of the most feared wizards alive. As Ollivander had told him last spring: "A mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard learning from the wand." Rising to the expectation of the legendary status he'd attained as the boy wonder, the one who slayed Lord Voldemort. Perhaps even growing stronger than Voldemort himself—
But that thought terrified him more than any other. The thought of embracing his reputation and living the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, waiting for someone to come along and challenge his fearsome might. The Elder Wand was a brand, one that marked him for death if he continued to harness its power and grow his legacy with it. And as his body slowly came down from the adrenaline rush of the night's events, one thought became crystal-clear, overriding all other thoughts swirling in his brain…
I need to get rid of the Elder Wand as soon as possible.