Chap. 38: Voldemort, the ministry, Nagini, Mulciber, and a hunting trip.
Voldemort was sitting by a fire on that Saturday, December 3rd, and had been waited on hand and foot by an older wizard that he had placed under the Imperious curse in their wizarding district of Berlin. His location, now, was in the outskirts of northern Berlin on a street named Zabel-Krüger-Damm, and in an older 1930s house covered in ivy.
Besides his badly healed ribs, he had caught a rather bad case of wizard's flu while at the flop house, and it was taking some time to get over; a little over two weeks, in fact. It had almost turned into pneumonia, fever, and all. This was on top of the episodes he was having from the "curse," where he felt like he was burning. On top of that, he had, in fact, picked up the scabies at the flop house and had an awful time of killing it out, as it had spread over him by scratching himself through the night with his infected hand. He had to use a mange-ridding unguent for a week over that, and that was not fun to do around his crotch.
None of this had cost him, of course, as the elder wizard footed the bills, fed him, and medicated him while being enslaved by the curse. The wizard worked in a shop through the day, to take in money, and during the afternoon, he waited on Voldemort like a house elf.
However, due to this, he was not able to recruit anyone like he had wanted, so, in reality, the entire trip had been a lost cause, except for what he saw in Grindelwald's mind. Supposedly, Dumbledore had the wand that Grindelwald had used, but what if Potter had arrived there first?
Now that he was feeling better, he was waiting on the elderly wizard to arrive home that afternoon.
"Hans?" Voldemort questioned when the door opened.
"Ja?" Hans said after stepping into the parlor.
"Avada Kedavra" Voldemort intoned, and Hans fell to the floor like a poppet whose strings had been cut.
Voldemort, then, robbed the man of all his coins, wand, and any potions in the house, left out of the back entrance, and apparated away.
Next, Voldemort made his way to Antwerp, and at the docks, he found an old rusty piece of steel rod that he turned into another illegal portkey, and triggered it, taking him back to Wiltshire and just west of Amesbury, and close to Berwick St. James at Malfoy Manor.
When Harry arrived at the reception area for the minister's office on the morning of December 4th, a working Sunday, Mrs. Vane told Harry to proceed on into the conference room. When he stepped inside, he was greeted by Minister Scrimgeour, Head Auror Robards, and the Head Hit Wizard, Gunnar Howard.
"Harry," Scrimgeour said as he was reading a report, "take a seat."
When Rufus finished, he looked around at the three and stated. "He's back. He was back in Wiltshire yesterday afternoon. Now, we have to put the rest of our plans into motion, as I'd imagine he's quite upset or will be by this evening."
"Are the Giants still in the hollow behind Porlock and in the Hawkcombe Woods?" Harry asked.
Robards gave a serious nod as Howard said, "Yes, we're still watching them from a distance."
"They'll have to be taken out before he can let them loose on society again," Robards said.
"How in the bloody hell," Harry inquired, "did they move them that far west without being noticed?"
"Believe it or not," Scrimgeour said, "they traveled to there through the dead of the night across the country, with the Death Eaters on brooms. The Giants swam across the channel in the same manner to the south end of Hythe Beach from Escalles, France."
"What of Rabastan?" Harry questioned.
"He slipped out in the dead of the night after Bellatrix died," Robards growled out. "We think he's in France.
"He buried Bellatrix in a hole in the family cemetery, and we found two muddy rucksacks there, with clothes inside that would have belonged to Rodolphus and Bellatrix. I would bet that Rabastan had a sack as well, and he took what money was in the other two and fled. The reason we know is that we found a galleon that he dropped."
"The French or ICW Aurors will take him out like they did the Carrows," Howard reasoned.
"Probably," Rufus said. "However, we have to stop another giant attack. What if they targeted something like the muggle's GCHQ Bude complex? That would upset the Yank's CIA as well. Worse, what if he had them go to Porton Down and cause havoc, which isn't that far from Malfoy Manor? That could potentially kill thousands."
"We have a plan, Minister," Robards said. "We will go there early in the morning while they're resting, and keep them busy on the ground as Harry takes them out from the air. Alastor Moody will be with me, and we will try to either apprehend Macnair, Jugson, and Mulciber or kill them outright. Howard will be across the Bristol Channel in case any giants flee and try to swim across into Wales."
"How far across the channel is it there?" Harry wondered.
"Only about twelve miles," Howard replied, "where it was about thirty that they swam when they came from the mainland."
Finally, Harry looked at everyone around the table. "When do we do this?"
"Tonight," Rufus said, "and I'd dress warmly for it. Just remember, Potter; take out the Gurg, first!"
"Which one will he be?"
"The biggest one," Robards dryly replied.
"So," Voldemort spat as he stalked along the dining table at Malfoy Manor, "Pyrites, you're telling me that almost everyone I freed has been apprehended, again?"
"Yes, My Lord," Pyrites said as he stared at the table.
"And..., where are they?"
"I have no idea where the ministry has taken them," Pyrites admitted in his foppish voice, "as what few of us are left kept an eye on Azkaban, and they're not there. Now, with Rabastan gone, well, we can't cover what needs to be covered, plus, we're broke."
"Where is Rabastan?" Voldemort questioned with a hiss while ignoring the part about their movement being flat broke.
"I think that he may be in France since his family is from there, My Lord."
"What of Potter," Voldemort asked, "is there any news on him?"
"He's been acting odd, My Lord," Pyrites said with a bowed head.
"Odd? How, Pyrites?"
"He has been seen by our unmarked in all the wizarding quarters," Pyrites explained, "carrying differing long wand boxes, even one into Gringotts, where he rented a high-security vault for it. Everyone in the teller's hall heard him, My Lord."
"What did he do at the other places?"
"He arrived carrying a long wand box each time, and would slip it into a deep robe's pocket before entering several shops before leaving the area."
"How many boxes?" Voldemort hissed out.
"Seven, My Lord."
"Did ANYONE," Voldemort shouted, "see him leave a box with one of the shops?"
"No, My Lord," Pyrites said with a grimace, "he wasn't followed inside. All I found out was that he wasn't seen with the box after leaving the shops."
"Where were these establishments?"
Here, Pyrites cleared his throat and still stared at the table. "Diagon Alley and Carkitt Market, Manchester, Birmingham, Liverpool, Glasgow, Edinburgh, and Belfast My Lord. All in a week's time."
"GAHHHHH!" Voldemort screamed as he stomped his way to the head of the table, and took a seat. "Oh, Nagini, where have I gone so wrong?"
Nagini slowly slid her way past Pyrites, who noticed that she had a large bulge from being fed a live ewe last night and began coiling herself up close to her master as her head reared in the air, and her forked tongue flickered out.
"Who fed her?" Voldemort asked.
"I did, My Lord," Pyrites lied. He was sick of Snape always obtaining the credit, and what could one little lie hurt?
Next, Pyrites found himself jumping from his seat and taking cover, as Nagini's bulge seemed to suddenly explode outward, causing her to thrash about on the antique oak floor in a very violent manner while hissing in pain.
"NAGINI!" Voldemort screamed as he watched his confidant, familiar, and horcrux slowly die in twisting agony. When its large head hit the floor with a thud, and when its slit pupils became vacant, a black mist was released from the snake, which screamed before it dissipated.
Pyrites did his best to run in his most foppish way, with the tails of his morning coat fluttering out behind him, he really did, but he was struck in the back by Voldemort's killing curse just as he reached the steps leading to the entry hall, which he slid down, tread after tread, and face first, to the bottom with his top hat flying through the air to land beside him.
Just after the curse, Voldemort felt as if he was on fire, again, and he fell to the floor by Nagini in a fetal position and screamed. The Lord of Death was punishing him, Voldemort just knew it.
Mulciber, who had his hood up, stepped out of Cobb & Webb's carrying a cardboard box of shrunken tins of food to take back to the giant's camp, which had been stolen from a muggle grocer "for the cause." However, just as the door closed, a black fog blocked out everything; it was Peruvian Darkness Powder, and Mulciber found a garrote quickly placed around his neck, causing him to drop the box, where the cans bounced everywhere with clinks and clangs along the narrow cobblestone street. He also felt someone place an anti-apparation ward up as well when he reached for his neck.
Mulciber couldn't breathe as he struggled, so he went for his wand, which was quickly removed from his right hand by bending it back against his thumb, and snapping it by someone in the blackness in front of him.
Finally, as the garrote tightened, Mulciber gave out a little "Gack," as his vision darkened, and his legs failed him. Within another few seconds, Mulciber was no more.
"He's dead?" Came a voice from the black fog.
"Very," said Mercy, who slipped a portkey around Mulciber's neck, and sent him to the Auror's and Hit Wizard's apparation and portkey room with a note claiming his reward. "Let's get outta here."
The note that he had sent with Mulciber, said:
.
.
Here he is. Delivered as promised.
Bring my reward to the Hogshead. I'll be there.
Mercy
.
.
When Mulciber's body fell from a portal in the portkey and apparation room, it triggered an alarm, where Dawlish and Proudfoot entered.
"What the bloody hell?" Dawlish exclaimed.
Proudfoot looked down at Mulciber, who had blue lips and a ligature mark around his neck with a grim smirk. The mercs, by the looks of it, took care of their problem for them, as a death warrant had been signed some time ago, and a reward was placed on the wizard's head.
Three portkey portals opened that night just outside and to the west of Minehead at Woodcombe, where several Aurors, Hitwizards, Obliviators, and their team leaders appeared, along with Harry. They were all carrying brooms.
"Ready, Potter?" Mad-Eye asked as he slapped Harry on the back with a grin.
"Not really," Harry said, "but this has to be done. I don't like the idea of having to kill them."
"Wouldn't of had to," Moody growled out, "if this Gurg hadn't killed the old one, and sided with You-Know-Who, eh?"
"No, I guess not," Harry said, who pulled out a rolled-up plastic shopping bag like one obtained from a grocer.
"Whattya got, Harry?"
Harry reached into the bag and pulled out a small and thin package about three by five inches in size, and maybe a quarter of an inch thick that was wrapped in a clear plastic wrapper.
"Cheap ponchos," Harry dryly said, as he started passing them out, where everyone began opening them and unfolding them. They reminded them of a cheap brown plastic thigh-length cloak, with a hood.
"Ponchos?" Mad-Eye questioned.
"When their heads blow," Harry said, "it'll rain down blood and gore everywhere. That will protect your uniforms." Harry had also looked up at the dark and cloudy sky while saying this. "Besides, we might see some sleet before long, as well."
"Put them on, everyone," Robards ordered, "mount your brooms and follow me. It's about a four-and-one-half mile flight west-southwest, so, mount up, and let's go!"
Everyone mounted their brooms, and took off, flying just over the treetops. When Moody looked to his left, from his modified broom, Harry gave him a huge smirk and did a barrel roll.
"Cheeky little shite!"
After they made their way to Porlock, they flew south to Hawkcombe, and then up a deep hollow where they found the camp. Immediately, curses started raining down on Macnair and Jugson, who were sitting at a smaller fire away from the giant's huge one. That was when Harry saw the Gurg stand up, and roar, where he aimed his Firebolt at the beast, along with his Mayhaw wand.
At a lightning pace, Harry approached the Gurg at eye level about twenty feet off the ground, where another very strong Bombarda Maxima left his wand, which struck the Gurg between the eyes, as Harry was already shooting straight up to distance himself from it.
The Gurg's head exploded in a red mist, along with a shower of flesh, bone fragments, and grey matter. It's body fell forward, like a huge fell oak, and landed directly on the huge campfire with a crash, sending sparks high into the air, which also sent a burning log twisting through the air at Macnair and Jugson, making them duck.
The fight was now on.
A/N" Sorry about yesterday and being late today. I had to get ready for an appointment with my physician to take an injection in my knee. Three more weeks of that, once a week.