Author's Note: Hi. Yeah, here's chapter seventeen. There's nothing really to say except that I own Aidan, Sam, Jennifer, the Madeira's and the situation. The rest is left to the artful and immortal mind of J.K. Rowling.
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Aidan half thought that he was just letting Leigh's words sink in before he spoke, but the truth was that he couldn't speak. He sat, staring wide-eyed at Leigh who looked sullenly back. This couldn't be true! He had met Sebastian Madeira face-to-face and he had thought that he was one of the classiest men he had ever met (besides his father, of course!).
"What?" he finally sputtered after about five minutes. Leigh hung her head and stared at the marble floor.
"He wouldn't let me come back," she whispered. "He's been a Death Eater since before I was born. He hates Dumbledore and now that You-Know-Who is back he's really losing it. I lied to you, and I'm sorry, but he seemed to be changing, you know?" Aidan crossed the room and sat down next to her.
"Yeah, I actually do know." Leigh stared at him looking for an answer, but Aidan couldn't talk about that right now. He had to help Leigh. "It's a long story, I'll tell you later. Right now we have to talk about you, because my dilemma is over."
"Alright. Well, about a week ago, my father picked up the paper and it had the headline about Azkaban. The Dark Mark has been burning on his arm for a while now and I knew something like this was going to happen. I could sense the evil in the house. I didn't say anything to you because it would just upset you and I didn't need that on top of everything else. But when the article appeared in the Daily Prophet he went ballistic. He was so overjoyed that he locked me in my room and ordered Blinky, our house elf to feed me only one meal a day. He wrote to Dumbledore to tell him that I was grievously ill and that I wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts for a long time. Since this was an emergency, I used Aphrodite to write to you and I transfigured a fireplace into the wall. I had been saving some Floo Powder for something like this."
Aidan embraced her tightly. After his abused life, he could definitely relate, but his life was getting better and Leigh's was getting worse and he had to do something to help her. "Why don't you stay here?"
"Are you joking?! If my father finds my bedroom empty he'll have his Death Eaters storm the castle and hurt everybody! I can't let that happen!" She did have a point.
"Well, what should I do?" Aidan asked, searchingly.
"Owl your parents. Tell them everything and have your dad look into this with the Ministry. If the Auror's could just do something about him then I could come back or at least stay somewhere else."
"What about your mother?" Leigh gave a hollow laugh.
"My mother hero-worships my father. She thinks he's some kind of god or something. I think she may be under the Imperius Curse though."
"Okay, I'll owl them. We're going to do all we can to get you back and into a good family." That's what Dumbledore did with me, he thought silently. "What about Dumbledore?" he asked suddenly.
"Not yet, don't tell him yet. Once you owl your parents and get a response, go to him."
"Okay," Aidan said. When he saw the look on Leigh's face he almost broke down, but he kept his calm and said, "We're going to get through this, trust me. We'll get you out of there."
"Oh, Aidan!" she cried flinging herself onto Aidan. "I trust you. I'll be okay." Then she kissed him and walked to the fireplace again. "Be there for me." She took a fistful of Floo Powder and threw it into the fire which roared emerald green. "Madeira House!" and in a flash of green light she was gone.
It was all Aidan could do from crying like a small child. He grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders' Map and left as quickly as he had come. Even though, the trek to Gryffindor Tower was longer than it had ever been. He could think of nothing else but Leigh in a small room in her home, neglected and abused, all because of stupid Voldemort and the people who followed him.
Aidan wasted no time. He grabbed some parchment, a quill and ink from his bedside table and retreated, yet again into the common room.
Dear Dad.
It's not in the best spirits that I have to write to you, tonight. It's about one-thirty and I just had a meeting with Leigh. She didn't come back to Hogwarts this term and she's in trouble. She got here by Floo and she needs help. Her father is a Death Eater.
Dad, you really need to get some information on him. Sebastian Madeira is his name. He's been neglecting Leigh and feeding her only once, maybe less a day. He's a raving lunatic and you need to get some Aurors in there or something, but you have to help her. She's really important to me right now.
She's not looking too good either. If you can, have her stay with you once you've got her dad. I'm sorry I have to dump this on you right now, but it's only just been dumped on me, and I'm just trying to help her. Please do what you can. Tell Mum I love her and I'm fine!
Love,
Aidan
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"Well, Sam, you've got to do something!" Jennifer cried. Sam had shown her the letter after he had read it at least twenty times and did a little research. Sebastian Madeira did have a history as a Death Eater as Sam had already found out, but he was also in Voldemort's inner circle, right along with Lucius Malfoy and the Lestranges. He had never officially renounced his evil ways, but he did seem to come out of a sort of trance.
"Of course I know I have to do something! I'm not bloody stupid. We have to do a lot of planning to get this right. I have a meeting with Marc Rosier, the head Auror, tomorrow afternoon. We're going to get the most Death Eaters as we can before they get out of control. The ones at least that haven't met with You-Know-Who yet."
"Okay, darling, but that won't solve everything! What will happen once they've got him? Will they come after you?"
"Jennifer! They're coming after everybody. I don't even know who to trust anymore. We have to play this as safe as possible."
"Oh, dear! This is awful!" Sam strode across the kitchen to where is wife was sitting. He took her into a strong hug and held her for a while.
"It will be alright, dear. It will be alright," he whispered soothingly, but deep down inside he knew that he didn't know.
Sam's meeting with Marc Rosier was scheduled for one o'clock, which meant that he didn't get in until two-thirty. When the receptionist called him he jumped up immediately, gathered his cloak and pointed hat, and walked briskly into the office.
Marc Rosier was a still-fairly-young man, though from the look on his face, you would think he was fifty. His tiny eyes were surrounded by bags that suggested lack of sleep and his brown hair was flecked with gray. When Sam knocked the man looked up and gestured with his hand to come in.
Sam sat at a chair opposite the Auror's desk and said, "Hello, Mr. Rosier. I wanted to talk to you about an apparent Death Eater."
"Isn't everyone a Death Eater these days?" Rosier drawled.
"Mr. Rosier, this is important. Are you an Auror or not?"
"This job is killing me," he said, his head in his hands.
"Be that as it may, you still have this job and I need your help. Have you heard of Sebastian Madeira?"
"Yes, Mr. O'Reilly, Madeira is one of the most well-known Death Eaters in Britain. What do you want me to do about it?"
Sam was starting to get really irritated with the man. He was supposed to be the Head Auror in the whole Ministry of Magic! "Mr. Rosier, if you aren't going to help me or any one else who traipses into your office," he said standing up. "I suggest that you find another job because this is no time to give up. Now either, you help me, you quit, or I join the Auror Academy to take your place, because if you won't help other people, or the whole wizarding community for that matter, I will!" He finished breathlessly. Rosier looked up at him, his tiny eyes enlarged to the size of regular eyes.
"Mr. O'Reilly, I'm very sorry," he mumbled as he scurried over to the filing cabinet to his left. "Madeira, you said? Madeira, Madeira, let's see here." He ruffled in the cabinet for a moment before extracting a thick file. "Here we go, Madeira," he said as he handed the file to Sam. Sam took it but laid it on the desk in front of him.
"Mr. Rosier, I've done my research. The reason I'm here is because of his daughter, Leigh. Leigh is my son's girlfriend and she has been abused by Madeira. From what my son says, he has only been feeding her once a day. I wouldn't be surprised if he has been using the Cruciatus Curse on her. If she returns to Hogwarts by Floo Powder, Madeira will probably inform You-Know-Who and they'll storm the castle. We need to get Leigh out of there and capture Madeira."
Rosier looked up at Sam as though he was out of his mind. "Are you crazy!? Where would we put Madeira once he's captured? There is no more Azkaban, remember?"
"I have it all figured out," Sam said. "We need to set up a new prison, under the control of the Aurors. If we send the some of the veterans and some of the new trainees it will be pretty well protected. That way we would have enough Aurors for battle. I've even checked out where we could have the prison. There's a castle in Edinburgh that hasn't been used for over one-hundred years. We could make it Unplottable, like Hogwarts."
Rosier looked at him, apparently impressed. He opened his mouth, as though to speak, but closed it again and called his receptionist into his office. "Betty, please call Mr. Olefsky. I need him here as soon as possible."
Sam looked at him bemusedly. "Who's Mr. Olefsky?" he asked.
"Victor Olefsky is the head of Defence and Military Operations, and I think he could use you," Rosier said. Sam stared at him, dumbfounded.
"Me? I have a job in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, what do they need me in the defence department for?"
"You have some great ideas, Mr. O'Reilly. If I'm not much mistaken, they could use a man like you." No more than thirty seconds passed when a tall balding man wearing a military-like uniform and holding a cane Apparated into the room. He strode over to Rosier's desk and extended his hand.
"Mr. Rosier. It's good to see you," he said pompously. "What can I do for you?"
Rosier's eyes brightened as he looked at Sam. "Mr. Olefsky, I have found you a new Planner. May I introduce Mr. Sam O'Reilly?" He raised his hand toward Sam and Olefsky turned around. After a brief handshake, the men settled down into chairs to begin the talk.
"Excuse, Mr. Rosier, but what is a Planner?" Sam asked, feeling a bit stupid.
"A Planner, Mr. O'Reilly, is someone who plans attacks, strategises and protects the secrets of the Magical Military. You've already shown that you can do your research."
"I see," Olefsky chimed in. "What exactly brought you to this presumption, Mr. Rosier?"
"Mr. O'Reilly has the perfect plan for a new prison. It's absolutely foolproof. Even better than Azkaban! Tell him, Sam."
Sam leapt into his explanation again and by the time he was finished, Mr. Olefsky's eyes were as big as dinner plates. "Very well, my boy! Very well! You're hired. I will show you your office now, in fact. Just had a fellow retire, out we get, let's go." As Olefsky was attempting to sweep Sam out of the room, Sam held back.
"About Madeira, Mr. Rosier?"
"Ah, yes. That is a problem. When we get this new prison set up, we will do what we can. I'll have my men start planning this right away."
Sam beamed. "Thank you, Mr. Rosier, for everything," and he marched out of the door.
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Harry had to admit, his "Inherited Magic Lessons" weren't that bad. In fact, he found that he was quite good at it. He had already mastered some of the easier spells and he had been practicing on a dummy similar to the one Dumbledore had done his demonstration on. Some of the simpler ones were ev arb, the Leg Bounding Curse, which planted the attackers feet to the ground, suo ega rouc, the Fire Curse, which burnt the attackers wand hand severely, and sky ri, the Conscientious Curse, which knocked the attacker out. The last curse involved certain sacrifices on Dumbledore's part, and Harry was very uncomfortable performing it on him. All of the curses were wandless.
One particular evening, Harry was up in Dumbledore's office practicing when and owl swooped in an open window and perched itself next to Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix. The owl was carrying an envelope of thick parchment and the Ministry crest. Dumbledore immediately lightened the owl's load and it soared again out of the window.
The old man read the letter and with each line his sparkling eyes grew wider and wider. Harry curiously tried to read over his shoulder but, as though sensing Harry's travelling eyes, Dumbledore moved away. It must have been important because Dumbledore scribbled a letter back immediately and made Fawkes send the response.
"What was that about?" Harry inquired.
"Oh, nothing, Harry. Ministry business, nothing you need to worry about," Dumbledore replied idly.
"Okay," Harry said, not wanting to push it. It was probably something about Voldemort and Harry really didn't want to be bothered with him anymore, though he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid the subject—or the person himself—forever.
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Voldemort had met with the giants and the dementors and he was now planning his attacks. He had already had countless Muggles and those wizards who have isolated themselves from the world killed. All he had ever needed was an alliance with the dementors to complete his quest for world annihilation. It would be like the Muggle Nazi movement in the forties, except he was more powerful than any Hitler would be. Yes, this was the moment.
Voldemort had built his fortress in an Unplottable forest in Germany and his most devoted followers who were not on a mission lived there with him. Voldemort would torture them for fun and as they were also under the Imperius Curse, they would be forced to "enjoy" it.
"Wormtail!"
"Ye-Yes, M-Master?" Wormtail whimpered.
"Get me my outlines. I want to study my attack of Hogwarts to make it perfect."
"Yes, Mas-Master." The short, bald man limped over to a particularly mouldy-looking bookcase and picked out a large sketch book. "There you are, Master."
"Thank you, Wormtail. What do you think? Do you think that we should attack from the North or the East?"
"Why don't we circle the castle, Master? That way they can't escape."
"Excellent, Wormtail. You show some potential."
"Thank you Master." Voldemort retraced his lines and called a meeting of his troops. They were to receive their new positions.
"Troops, loyal evil-doers, I have your new assignments for our attack of Hogwarts Castle!" There was a tumultuous applause and Voldemort continued. "When we have control of the castle we will relocate that as our Headquarters. Madeira! Do you have the girl?"
"Yes, Master," said a curly-haired, middle aged man. His eyes were shining maliciously as he stepped forward.
"Excellent. The perfect bait for that foolish Muggle that Dumbledore believes can help destroy the Dark Side. The boy will be dead in two months." The crowd of Death Eaters broke into applause once more.
Somewhere in the depths of the fortress was a frail fifteen-year-old girl, bound against her will in a dingy cell. The applause echoed through the dank hallways and the thing she wanted most was to throw up, but there was nothing to throw up. She hadn't eaten in a week and her ribs stuck out in odd places. Leigh Madeira tried to scream, but all that came out was a dry sob, for Voldemort was all-powerful again.