Disclaimer: 憲兵隊

Probing Attack

A group of Hermione's new employees followed her as she walked into her new engine repair facility. It was in rough shape as none of the the equipment had been used or even touched in decades. Still, the two girls' eyes were sparkling with anticipation as their minds considered all they'd be able to do with the bounty they beheld.

"Hoist's broken," Hermione's new shop foreman announced. "Won't be able to do much till we get that fixed."

"Is there some way we could get started without it?" Luna asked hopefully, she and her friend were itching to create.

"What do you do at Gringotts when something like this happens?" Hermione echoed curiously. "Do you just stop working till it gets fixed?"

"Generally have security send up a couple of trolls to do the heavy lifting," the foreman replied. "Slows things down but it's better than having all work come to a halt. Unfortunately, we don't have any trolls available."

"No," Hermione agreed. "We don't."

"We could use golems," Luna suggested shyly. "They can be quite strong."

"True," Hermione mused. "Do you think it would be possible to adapt the golem process to something more mechanical?"

"I don't see why not," Luna said, starting to get excited. "We could get around having to create a new set of instructions for each action by using a pilot. That way they'd be much more versatile than the more standard sort of golem we've read about."

"Might be worth looking into making the usual sort at some point though," Hermione mused. "To compare them to our version and to learn the traditional process if for no other reason." Hermione's eyes lit up. "Luna, I have just remembered something I read about manufacturing."

"Hmm?" Luna gave her friend her full attention.

"They use robots in normal factories to do things like welding, might be able to do the same with specially constructed golems for some of the production work. We could potentially automate parts of the production line if we wanted to with devices based on standard golems and just think of how much potential our piloted golem concept has!"

"True," Luna agreed, making a note to explore the idea further. "To both. I believe that they will be quite enjoyable to design and fabricate."

"Back to the problem at hand," Hermione declared. "For the piloted golem project, as I see it, the main issue that I think we need to overcome is power."

"I agree that it is the first issue we should address but I am not sure that I agree that it is the main issue," Luna said thoughtfully. "I believe the joints will prove to be a greater challenge, but that is a challenge for the future. To address power." The girl chewed on her lower lip. "Perhaps we could increase the crew size beyond just the operator and add a steam engine," Luna said, her eyes lighting up as she started bouncing up and down. "And we could solve the fuel storage issue by using the rune work from vanishing cabinets!"

"I think we have a working idea to base our first power transfer module prototype on!" Hermione declared. The girl turned back to her new foreman. "How soon can we start constructing the prototype?"

"Uh . . . Miss, we're not going to be able to do any of this without a hoist," the foreman said cautiously. "Too much heavy lifting."

"You're right," Hermione agreed.

"Best get started on fixing that first," Luna added. "Do you think you could have it ready to start fabricating the first parts in twelve hours?" she finished hopefully.

"Be at least fourteen," Hermione corrected. "Upon further reflection, I believe that you are correct that the joints are going to be a bit fiddly so we should definitely take our time with them."

"Safer to get everything planned out right before we get too far into it," Luna agreed. "I take it that you want to build a working prototype rather than just an engine and power transfer prototype?"

"We could design and fabricate instruments to test how much power is being transferred to ensure that it is enough to move the piloted golems or we could build working models and find out ourselves," Hermione stated. "We're still going to design and fabricate the instruments, of course."

"Of course," Luna echoed. "But that will likely take a bit longer than it would to just build a model and perfect is the enemy of good and I want to make sure we haven't neglected to account for something as soon as possible not after we get the instruments designed and fabricated."

"Right you are, Luna!" Hermione agreed. She turned back to her foreman. "So when can we start?"

"We should have this place functional enough to start work by the end of the day," the foreman allowed cautiously. "But it'll take days to get this place fully operational."

"No problem," Hermione said cheerfully. "The piloted golems won't be needed until the next time the hoist breaks anyway."

"And that won't likely happen for a while judging by the level of quality we've come to expect from goblin craftsmanship," Luna added.

Their new foreman stood a bit straighter at that, always nice to be appreciated.

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius was in the middle of what promised to be a rare productive meeting with the Minister when his arm began to ache, making him again regret the follies of youth and the return of his so called 'master.' All he'd wanted was a bit of fun, to join his companions in masks and black robes. To teach the lesser beings in the magical world how dangerous it was to have thoughts about rising above their proper places, to thin the muggle heard a bit. Instead he'd found himself saddled with a madman. He allowed himself a brief moment of mourning thinking about the proper purebloods that had been lost to the thing, at the opportunities lost due to the thing's insistence of acting so much in the open. It was a shame that such clarity came too late in life to do anything about it.

"I still don't understand how we'll be able to shut down their business, Lucius," Fudge bleated, bringing the proper pureblood's thoughts back to the present. "They have the right permits and Amelia has made it known how disappointed she'd be if things were misfiled."

"Since when have you been afraid of a jumped up street Auror, Cornelius?" Lucius' tone dripped with amusement. The pain in his arm grew insistent.

"It's not her I'm afraid of, Lucius," Fudge simpered. "It's who's behind her."

"Dumbledore?" Lucius laughed. "A crazy old man."

"Not him," Fudge whispered, eyes darting left and right as if he were afraid the devil was about to leap from a shadow. "Potter."

"Potter?" Lucious sneered. "A mere boy?"

"They say he's Merlin returned," Fudge's voice lowered to the point Lucius had trouble hearing him. "They say he's got the respect of the goblins and that he's just looking for an opportunity to . . ." Fudge licked his lips. "They say he's a killer."

"So have him arrested and thrown in Azkaban," Lucius said grandly. "You're the Minister, it's well within your power."

"Have who arrest him, Lucius?" Fudge whined. "He has Amelia eating out of his hand. If I remove Amelia then the Aurors will revolt, worse, she and they might join Potter and if they do the Ministry is finished and so are we."

Lucius' jaw clenched as the pain in his arm intensified. "Let me look into the matter for you, Cornelius, I'm sure a solution will present itself."

"I hope so, Lucius," Fudge said, not looking hopeful. "If anyone can, it will be you."

"How are matters coming with your." Lucius smirked. "Protégé?" The pain in his arm intensified to the point that it was becoming nearly impossible to ignore. It was time to cut the meeting and to see what his 'master' wished.

"It's as you said, Lucius. He's the perfect one to take the responsibility for all the misfortune that's befallen us. The right people are in agreement, he's a pureblood but not the right sort of pureblood. No one of importance will object."

"Good I . . ." his arm throbbed. "Am afraid that I must be going."

"Are you alright, Lucius?" Fudge asked, informing the other man that some of his discomfort had shown.

"Nothing important enough to concern yourself with, Minister, but if you will be good enough to excuse me."

"Of course. Good day, Lucius."

"Good day, Minister."

IIIIIIIIII

Harry awoke from his nap to find his assistant waiting for him. The look on her face suggested that she had something that, while not important enough to wake him, was time sensitive.

"What's up?"

"We've got a situation at the Ministry that you need to be aware of," Flint reported. "Arthur Weasley's third is being groomed to be Fudge's fall guy. We let that happen it's unavoidable that there'll be at least some splash on Arthur."

"Alright," Harry agreed. "What's being done about it?"

"Bones is doing her best to get him transferred somewhere out of the line of fire but she's getting a bit of push back from the Office of Personnel Administration."

"They Fudge's people?"

"They hate the useless bastard as much as we do. Push back is because they're not exactly fond of Bones either and they know that while she is the type to hold a grudge, she is not the type to get too nasty about it."

"Why are you coming to me about it?"

"You're developing the reputation of being someone willing to crawl naked over broken glass for the opportunity to avenge a slight." She grinned. "In short, you are the type to hold a grudge and you are the type to get nasty about it. All I'm doing is suggesting we make use of that to make a few threats."

"What's Mr. Weasley say about all this?"

"Not a thing. He isn't asking if that's what you mean."

"He wouldn't and shouldn't have to," Harry sighed. "Do what you can."

"Bones wanted me to pass on her thanks after you said yes. Said it isn't often she gets to play the good Auror."

"Tell her to invoke my name whenever it seems like it would be useful to do so, but make sure she knows I will want to know about it afterwards and find a nice way to let her know that I'll revoke the privilege if it gets abused," Harry ordered.

"No problem, chief."

"Chief?"

"S'what the goblins are calling you, rest of us are picking it up from them."

"Alright. Anything else?"

"Had to chase off three researchers during your nap. They think they've figured out how you did one of those things you do and they want to see if you can do it again."

"Which thing?"

"Different one each time, chief, least I think it was a different thing each time. Didn't understand more than about half the words they were using. Oh, and they did let slip something else boss. Your friend Neville is up for a Flamel Potions Prize."

"I'll assume that's impressive?"

"Very, chief."

"What for?"

"He's basically rewritten the books used for all seven years of potions and he's well on his way to creating a new branch of the discipline. Likely be up for a Herbarium too at the rate he's going."

"He know yet?"

"Don't think so, chief."

"See if we can confirm it."

"You got it, chief."

"That all?"

"That's it, chief."

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia strolled into the Office of Personnel Administration with a wide grin on her face. Ignoring the frantic receptionist, she strolled past the man and barged into the office of the head administrator. Time to put a bit of fear into the jumped up clerk.

"Lo, Foresythe!" she cheered. "Glad I could catch you before you left early for the day. Wasn't easy finding the right time that wouldn't interfere with your post lunch nap or your pre-departure cocktails. Hope you don't mind." She slammed the door behind her.

"Bones," the man spat.

"Just came to show you some pictures," Amelia continued. "They're fascinating. Corpse of a massive thousand year old basilisk that nearly killed two of Harry Potter's friends. He was in second year when he did this, imagine what he could do now."

"You are being remarkably unsubtle about this," the man sighed. "Fine, Potter wants the Weasley twit transferred. The Weasley twit gets transferred. Do you care where?"

"Far enough from here that he doesn't get splattered, safe enough that nothing happens to the little bastard, and unimportant enough that it doesn't help his career."

"Done, on the condition that my office and my people get included."

"Included in what?"

"Your escape plan, Amelia, or are you under the mistaken impression that it's a secret?" He snorted. "Your dimmer than I thought you were if that's the case."

"Who knows?" she barked, turning deadly serious.

"Only the ones intelligent to pour piss from a boot." Foresythe grinned. "So, not many in the senior staff. I'd say most of the mid to lower level employees have at least an idea that something is going on."

"This why you've been dragging your heels?"

"That and as a gesture of my esteem for you, Amelia," his grin deepened. "I do so hope that it was taken in the spirit I intended."

IIIIIIIIII

Lucius was on the ground screaming a split second after he entered his 'master's' throne room. It was going to be another one of those meetings.

"I dislike it when my servants force me to wait, Lucius," Voldemort hissed, letting up the curse. "I trust you had a good reason."

"I was meeting with the Minister to advance your interests, my lord," Lucius gasped. "As you ordered, my lord."

"I see. I trust things are going well?" Voldemort smiled. "Managing the fool is your duty after all, Lucius, and you know what I do to those who fail to do their duties."

"He's afraid of Bones getting in the way of things, Master, it's getting more difficult to push him," Lucius worded things carefully in hopes of giving the master a new target to focus on. "It's getting more difficult to guide him to doing what's correct."

"Is it?" The thing raised its wand. "CRUCIO!"

Lucius screamed as every nerve in his body activated

"Do you enjoy disappointing me, Lucius?" the creature asked calmly. "I find myself wondering, Lucius, if it wouldn't be easier to have you replaced. Several of my followers have expressed an interest in taking your place" The Dark Lord canceled the spell. "Be happy, Lucius, I have decided to accept your excuse."

"You are most merciful, my Lord" Lucius gasped.

"Return to your duties and see that you do not disappoint me this time."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Send in young Flint after you leave," the Dark Lord ordered. "I think it's time he got a bit of experience. Tell him I think it's long past time Amelia Bones stopped hindering my plans." He'd see how his pawn died before deciding if the woman was worthy of his personal attention.

"By your command, my Lord."

IIIIIIIIII

Blood pounded in Marcus' ears as the dark lord gave his orders. Command. It was an intoxicating feeling to be given men and the task of removing one of his lord's enemies from the earth. He had no doubt that he would be successful and that the rewards the Dark Lord would shower upon him would ensure the ascendance of his family and its power for generations to come in the Dark Lord's empire of purity.

"What about her niece, my lord?" he asked, forcing the words through dry lips. "She'll be on her own after her aunt is gone."

"Only proper for the commander to go first if you're able to catch her," Voldemort replied, evidently amused by the question. "Give her to the beasts when the men have had their fill."

"Yes, my lord." He was inordinately proud of the fact that his voice didn't crack.

"I'm giving you four men and a dozen creatures, young Flint," the Dark Lord purred. "See that they are not wasted."

"Of course not, my lord. I shall not disappoint you, my lord. I swear it." He considered the matter. "How shall I bring the wards down, my lord?"

"I will deal with the wards and with any stragglers," Voldemort stated. "I will also be watching your performance with great interest. Be sure not to disappoint me."

"I'd rather die, my lord," Marcus replied.

"I have no doubt of that, young Flint," Voldemort replied with a wide smile. "We will attack at midnight, take the time between now and then to familiarize yourself with the men and beasts. You are dismissed."

"By your command, my lord." Marcus kissed the hem of his lord's robe and backed out of the room, making sure to keep his eyes downcast until after he was in the corridor and the door to the throne room had been closed.

The recent graduate took a few moments to calm himself, wouldn't do for his new subordinates to see how excited he was. It was just like the minutes before a big Quidditch game, he told himself, only difference was that the scoring was different and the rewards were greater. He closed his eyes and contemplated what he'd do to Bones the younger, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to snatch the little bint the next time she left the castle's protections.

Perhaps he'd sample her several times before throwing her to the men and finally to the beasts and she became ruined and too foul to touch by any wizard. No loss if not, he decided, there would be others, he was sure he'd have a chance at hundreds more in the service of his lord. All he had to do was be patient and good things would come.

Heart calmed and a smile on his face, he entered the room in which his new command had been gathered.

The wizards weren't much, Flint admitted silently. Pure, but not of good families. Still, they had their use and value enough to see the sense in joining the winning side. The beasts were less impressive, scraggly worn things unworthy of fighting alongside Greyback, they'd been handed down to act as cannon fodder, to die or prove themselves.

"You the leader, then?" one of the animals sneered, daring to address his better.

"CRUCIO!" Flint incanted for the first time, savoring the animal's screams. "Anyone else have any questions?" He was careful to lift the spell before there was any lasting damage, not wanting to waste the creature's life when it could be better spent on the coming victory. "I thought not."

IIIIIIIIII

Hermione and Luna returned from their first day at their new play land to find several crates containing their next newest toy.

"What's this?" Hermione addressed the foreman.

"Waterjet cutter. Think yer young gentleman arranged for it."

"How does it work?" Luna demanded.

"High pressure jet of water cuts parts out of metal. Gent who's supposed to teach us how to use it says this is a small one so it can't do nearly as much as a full sized model." The man dug an object out of his pocket. "Left this as an example of what they can do. Says it took him almost no time at all to turn that out compared to doing it the way we do now."

Hermione took the part and turned it over in her hands. "A bit rough but it might be nice to have for prototyping," the girl observed.

"We'll have to remember to thank Harry," Luna chirped.

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia arrived home that evening, had a light meal, and got to bed early. Meetings with Philip Granger, meetings with her muggle counterpart, meetings with her Aurors to plan the defense of the Ministry. Not for the first time she wished there was a spell that let one create a second version of themselves, better a dozen copies. Even with one copy she was sure she'd still have trouble getting everything done.

It felt as if she'd just gotten to sleep when one of her detail woke her up.

"What is it?" she asked groggily.

"Someone's trying to take down the wards around the manor," the younger woman whispered back. "At least a two dozen, as many as three and a half."

"Tonight of all bloody nights," Amelia cursed, reaching for her boots. "Son of a whore had to do it on the night I had an early bloody morning."

"Duty platoon reports they'll be out the door in two minutes."

"Let's hope the bloody wards last that long," Amelia sighed.

IIIIIIIIII

The wards shattered and Voldemort watched as his pawn cautiously followed his group to the house. One thing the little sot did right, the Dark Lord thought to himself, forcing the werewolves to go first. He'd have to remember to crucio the little bastard to see that he didn't do it again. Self preservation was not a trait he liked to see in his servants.

Things were going well, Voldemort observed, perhaps a bit too well. Was Bones even home? He'd expected the woman and her detail to have reacted by . . . the man's mouth went dry as his finely honed senses detected anti-apperation wards going up. "Trigger your portkeys," he ordered. A bit more than half of the two dozen he'd brought managed to escape, of those all but four including himself had left body parts behind. Ambush! The Dark Lord raged. Bones had been expecting him. Rage clouded Voldemort's eyes as the answer came to him. He had a traitor.

IIIIIIIIII

Amelia's grin threatened to split her face. Six bloody prisoners and six more in the ground with no losses to the good guys from the group at the edge of her wards and not a bloody escape from the blighters that had crossed in.

"Orders, boss?"

"Slap another set of wards on the manor and keep an eye on it. It's possible they'll try to burn it or something and we may as well see if we can grab another set of prisoners if they do. No heroics and not enough resources to stop a determined effort."

"Yes, boss. You want us to see if we can break the prisoners before morning?"

"Put them on ice. Have Tonks ask Potter if we can borrow his pet auditor in the morning."

"Got it, boss. Uh . . . shall I tell them that they're waiting for Potter's pet auditor?"

Amelia considered the matter. "Don't bother. Be sure to keep them separate. I don't want them to have be able to compare stories."

"Yes, boss."

Amelia's blood was singing as she returned to her section of the Granger residence, it was a good time to be alive.

IIIIIIIIII

Sprocket was waiting with half a dozen goblin technicians at the the entrance of the Common Room when Hermione stepped out that morning.

"Anguish is off on an errand," the goblin greeted his liege. "The other techs are with Ms. Lovegood, and the Deputy Headmistress would like a word when it is convenient. She instructed me to tell you that she will be in her office for the first half of the day and her quarters for the second."

"Any idea where Harry's hiding?"

"Believe he's making arrangements for an informal meeting with Gringotts to discuss trading in luxury items."

Hermione made her way to her Head of House's office and knocked smartly three times on the door to announce her presence.

"You wished to speak with me, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, come in, Ms. Granger." Minerva had a wide smile on her face. "I wanted to be the first to tell you some good news, they think they've figured out how Mr. Potter managed to break the third law of transfiguration."

"That's wonderful news, Professor!" Hermione cheered. "Have you told Harry?"

"He seemed to consider the matter as important as I thought he would," Minerva said wryly. "Which is why I wanted to be sure to tell you since we both know he wouldn't have thought to."

"Harry can be quite modest about that sort of thing," Hermione said primly.

"Quite," Minerva agreed. "Be sure your parents are also informed."

"I wouldn't dream of keeping something so important from them," Hermione replied, scandalized by the very notion.

"By parents I mean your father," Minerva sighed. "There are political aspects to this. Your father will be sure that Madame Bones and the Goblins know."

"Or I could write a letter to all of the above, Professor," Hermione pointed out.

"You could," Minerva agreed. "I suggested going through your father because I believe he'd have a much better appreciation of the political aspects and, as a result, be much better at knowing how to present the information in a way that most benefits Mr. Potter."

"Oh." Hermione's face went blank. "I see, thank you, Professor. I must admit that I hadn't considered that aspect of it."

"I wouldn't have expected you to, Ms. Granger, not after knowing you for all these years." The woman leaned back. "Business out of the way, do you have time for a bit of conversation?"

"Always, Professor."

IIIIIIIIII

Marcus woke slowly and immediately knew that things had gone very wrong. His shoulders slumped, he'd been captured. Better than it could have been, he supposed. He'd have to spend a bit of time in the Ministry's holding cells, perhaps a week or two in Azkaban before his master took over the country and made them as gods among men. It would be unpleasant, it was the least of his worries. Far worse was the fact that he'd failed his lord and would have to suffer his lord's displeasure.

A bit of moving about revealed that he was both blindfolded and chained to a chair. Likely in one of the interrogation rooms and left to stew a bit to try and worry him a bit. Internally, Marcus sneered. He knew the weak fools at the Ministry lacked the guts to do anything to him. A sudden thought brought a smile to his face, with any luck the others would all break and spill what they knew. That way his lord's ire would be focused on the weak minded fools and perhaps he'd reward his only faithful servant, the one who didn't break.

There was the faint sound of someone screaming in the background, must have been loud to get through the soundproofing around the room. Marcus grinned in amusement, he wondered if it was a recording of some sort or if they had a junior Auror outside screaming at the top of their lungs. He'd have to ask after they took the place, might be a good opening before he showed some unfortunate former Auror how to do a real interrogation.

The door opened, drawing him from his thoughts, and closed. He put a look of confident condescension on his face as the footsteps got closer and closer.

"Marcus Flint," a voice whispered into his ear. "We have one of your cousins working for us. Happily for her but unfortunately for you, you are between her and a rather large inheritance." He heard a chair scrap across the floor, presumably as it was being pulled out from under a table. "You were caught attempting to assassinate the Head of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement. For that, you are going to die. You will tell me everything you know, you will not lie, and you will not attempt to hide things. Do that and things not need be any more unpleasant than they have to be before your execution. Do you understand?"

"Exactly who do you think you're fooling with that tough Auror act? We both know the dark lord is going to own this country in a month. Save yourself some pain, let me loose and join the winning side. Do it now and I'll put in a good word for you."

"Forgive me, I forgot to introduce myself."

The blindfold was torn off and Flint blinked several times, attempting to adjust to the sudden brightness. The figure across from him didn't look right through half blinded eyes. There were no red robes, the skin tone looked odd, almost as if . . . no. Fear warred with horror as his eyes cleared enough to have some idea of who, rather what he was dealing with.

"My name is Auditor Anguish. I work for Harry Potter," the creature introduced itself with a toothy grin. "You are going to tell me everything before I allow you to die. Your only choice is how unpleasant the your time between now and then will be. Do not bother begging for mercy, I have none." She paused for a handful of heartbeats. "Shall we begin?"

AN: Omake Below

Omake by Orian D'Cate: On Golems

"So; Golems." Harry frowned and rubbed his head. "Don't really recall much about those from our textbooks."

"That's because they weren't in them, Harry," explained Hermione. "We only ever got the one lesson on them, in Ancient Runes."

Harry grimaced. "Which I don't take."

"Which you don't take."

"So, can you give me the abridged lecture then? Please?"

"Of course!" Hermione chirped. "Basically, a golem is any enchanted object that is able to act at least partially of it's own accord. Think of a Muggle robot, like the Terminator; albeit one not quite as intelligent or capable."

"More like 'Danger, Will Robinson', then?"

"Precisely. Now, while the first golems were constructed of stone or clay, over time we've managed to create them out of numerous other materials such as iron or copper. Our own preliminary studies seem to indicate copper would be the preferred option for our own purposes."

"'Our'?"

"Mine, Luna's, and Sprocket's."

"Ah. Dare I ask why?"

"Grounding."

Harry blinked, then shook his head. "Alright, putting that one aside for later...why come to me? This seems like something the Greengrasses and Davises would want to know about first."

"Because I wanted to get your opinion on purchasing and restoring a Cornish copper mine before I tabled the subject openly."

"Looking at a particular mine?"

"As a matter of fact, yes! Daddy sent along a rather interesting brochure."

Harry took the crisply colored packet and began browsing through it. "Hmm...formerly owned by a Muggle family...open since the 1780s...very interesting. Mind if I take awhile to go over this thoroughly?"

"Take all the time you need, Harry. And feel free to suggest alternative names for the mine should we choose to purchase it."

"Alternative names?"

Hermione made a face of mild distaste. "Let's just say the name 'Wheal Leizure' isn't exactly held in high regard by its surrounding environs. A name change might help smooth the transition."

"Gotcha. Should be done in an hour or two."

"Thanks Harry!"

"No problem, Hermione."