We arrived at the Ministry a few minutes later, and I wasn't entirely surprised to observe that most of the others were already there. Hermione and Fran were clutching their twelve-gauges, and looked ready to kill somebody. The individual responsible for nearly killing Lucy, for a start.
Draco was glowering even more; Ginny had been at the station to see Percy's eldest off, and narrowly avoided being killed. I smiled slightly at the sight of him saluting Sirius, which would have given my uncle Lucius a full-blown heart attack. It goes without saying that neither of them have spoken in several years, after Draco caused Lucius to get hit over the head with one of Vernon Dursley's crutches and then went on to get off with the youngest Weasley, help kill the Dark Lord and join the Aurors. After that little incident he'd finished up staying with us, and I tended to think of him as more of a brother than a cousin.
"Good to see you again, Sirius," Harry said, shaking hands with his godfather. "Shame it isn't under better circumstances."
"Yes," Sirius replied. "I have to report that you are being called up as of now, along with all other reservists." I wasn't surprised. We were all inactive reserve Aurors, with an average rank of second lieutenant. Harry was a captain, whilst most of the others were at least sergeant. I was lieutenant first class, as were Ron and Cho. "I'm assigning you all to a special unit, under the command of Albus Dumbledore, to locate and apprehend the individual or group responsible for these attacks." He paused. "Now all I have to do is sell Albus on the idea."
"But why ME, of all people?" Dumbledore demanded. "You know I was never in favour of the stunt they pulled back in 1986!"
"Exactly," Sirius replied. "There's half a chance you can keep them from doing anything so monumentally stupid again, which is more than can be said for me or Arthur."
"I wish I shared your confidence, Sirius. Anyway, you have always endorsed their actions wholeheartedly."
"Only because it worked. That was the most foolhardy thing I ever saw Severus do in his life, and I once saw him mixing Firedew in a glass beaker." Firedew is a kind of magical napalm that generates enough heat to melt a concrete block, and has a tendency to ignite unpredictably. They'd laughed about it later. "The only reason I didn't personally hex him until he couldn't walk was that it brought Lily and James back and nobody died except the bad guys."
Dumbledore sighed. "All right, all right, you win. I'll try and keep them all out of trouble if I possibly can." //And a fat chance I have,// he thought to himself. //I couldn't keep Draco or Richard out of trouble when they were teenagers; what chance do I have now?// Neither's talent for mayhem had abated, though it was kept under tight rein during working hours, and the same largely went for the rest of the order. The results of a large big-game hunting exhibition in the Dark Forest three years ago were a good testimony to this. On the other hand, Dumbledore HAD found Arthur Weasley's old Ford Anglia useful for popping back home during term time...
The ten men and women filed in, stood to attention and saluted. They looked remarkably military and precise for the tearaways he remembered them as, with the possible exception of Granger, who had invariably been the rarely-heeded voice of reason whenever anything really insane was afoot.
"Sir," said Draco respectfully. "We've been ordered to report to you."
Feeling slightly foolish, Dumbledore returned the salute. "At ease. As you can imagine, we are keen to put a stop to these recent goings on, and hopefully you will be able to help."
"Yes, sir. We can say for definite that these attacks are linked in some way," Draco said thoughtfully, running a hand through his hair, "because there is NO WAY they can be coincidental."
"True. My sources report that one of the vehicles used has been seen near the Malfoy residence, and it seems prudent to investigate this thoroughly." He caught a trace of alarm in Draco's expression. "I'm sorry, Draco. It is almost beyond doubt that your father will be involved in some way. It is also entirely possible that he will attack any one of you if he sees you."
"Christ, I hope so." I blinked, looking at Draco in amazement. There was something in his eyes that made me want to run for my life. "Just let the bastard give me an excuse!"
Three hours later I was hanging upside down beneath my broom, getting a marvellous lower body workout whilst trying to jemmy a window open, and wondering why the hell I'd ever agreed to this.
//'You suggested getting in through an upstairs window, you get it open!' Hell, thanks a lot, sis. One of these days...!// I wrenched the window open and tumbled through, thankfully landing on a carpet into which I sank at least three inches. Under other circumstances this might have seemed funny.
I double-clicked my radio's Send button, but got only a low-volume buzz of static from the huge background magic levels. No surprise around here, I concluded grimly. My torch wasn't working either, so I muttered 'Lumos' to myself. With the aid of some electrician's tape, I affixed my wand to one side of my pistol's barrel, and began to take in my surroundings. I was in a small and very dusty bedroom, with a number of posters of various rock bands. Metallica, Korn, Marylin Manson... This had to be Draco's old room, and I'll bet he didn't let his Slytherin pals in here much! I doubt Lucius would have thought much of this sort of thing either, though I wouldn't be remotely surprised if Manson had a Dark Mark.
Very cautiously, I pushed open the door. Pitch darkness greeted me, only slightly countered by my impromptu substitute for the mini Mag-Lite in my pocket. I cursed silently, and moved towards Malfor Sr's study. I could recall most of the internal layout from odd summers spent here with my grandfather before he died and Lucius inherited the family seat, and Draco had brought us up to speed. He was covering the ground floor whilst Fran did the outbuildings, with the others waiting nearby in case of trouble.
I tried the study door, and found it unlocked. I opened it VERY cautiously, gun upraised. It didn't have a silencer, but I'd be stuffed if I had to fire a shot anyway. I peered around the door, and froze.
He was at his desk, writing something. He slowly turned around, his expression one of annoyance, and then stared in utter amazement at the exceptionally large semi-automatic I was pointing at him.
"Oh," he said thoughtfully. "Is it worth asking what you want?"
"I'll give you precisely five minutes to convince me that you didn't have a hand in the King's Cross bomb and all those attacks on some friends of mine. If you succeed -and I emphasise IF- then I will leave. If you don't, I'll be obliged to handcuff you and remove you to the Ministry for questioning."
"Ah, I see. Well," Lucius said slowly, "I only read about that in the Daily Prophet ystrday. I didn't approve of it, I might add. Let the Muggles use such crude methods among themselves."
"That's a bad word in my family," I observed coolly.
"Ah, yes. Alexis never liked me using that word about your mother, either." I was caught a little off guard, as I hadn't expected him to recognise me. Uncle Lucius and I had met all of twice in the last quarter century, after all.
"Are you finished? You still have..." I glanced at the clock on the wall, "three minutes left, and I'm not convinced AT ALL."
"Oh, I'm finished, all right..." That was about it so far as conversation goes, because at this juncture somebody hit me right behind the ear with something impressively heavy.
Draco was glowering even more; Ginny had been at the station to see Percy's eldest off, and narrowly avoided being killed. I smiled slightly at the sight of him saluting Sirius, which would have given my uncle Lucius a full-blown heart attack. It goes without saying that neither of them have spoken in several years, after Draco caused Lucius to get hit over the head with one of Vernon Dursley's crutches and then went on to get off with the youngest Weasley, help kill the Dark Lord and join the Aurors. After that little incident he'd finished up staying with us, and I tended to think of him as more of a brother than a cousin.
"Good to see you again, Sirius," Harry said, shaking hands with his godfather. "Shame it isn't under better circumstances."
"Yes," Sirius replied. "I have to report that you are being called up as of now, along with all other reservists." I wasn't surprised. We were all inactive reserve Aurors, with an average rank of second lieutenant. Harry was a captain, whilst most of the others were at least sergeant. I was lieutenant first class, as were Ron and Cho. "I'm assigning you all to a special unit, under the command of Albus Dumbledore, to locate and apprehend the individual or group responsible for these attacks." He paused. "Now all I have to do is sell Albus on the idea."
"But why ME, of all people?" Dumbledore demanded. "You know I was never in favour of the stunt they pulled back in 1986!"
"Exactly," Sirius replied. "There's half a chance you can keep them from doing anything so monumentally stupid again, which is more than can be said for me or Arthur."
"I wish I shared your confidence, Sirius. Anyway, you have always endorsed their actions wholeheartedly."
"Only because it worked. That was the most foolhardy thing I ever saw Severus do in his life, and I once saw him mixing Firedew in a glass beaker." Firedew is a kind of magical napalm that generates enough heat to melt a concrete block, and has a tendency to ignite unpredictably. They'd laughed about it later. "The only reason I didn't personally hex him until he couldn't walk was that it brought Lily and James back and nobody died except the bad guys."
Dumbledore sighed. "All right, all right, you win. I'll try and keep them all out of trouble if I possibly can." //And a fat chance I have,// he thought to himself. //I couldn't keep Draco or Richard out of trouble when they were teenagers; what chance do I have now?// Neither's talent for mayhem had abated, though it was kept under tight rein during working hours, and the same largely went for the rest of the order. The results of a large big-game hunting exhibition in the Dark Forest three years ago were a good testimony to this. On the other hand, Dumbledore HAD found Arthur Weasley's old Ford Anglia useful for popping back home during term time...
The ten men and women filed in, stood to attention and saluted. They looked remarkably military and precise for the tearaways he remembered them as, with the possible exception of Granger, who had invariably been the rarely-heeded voice of reason whenever anything really insane was afoot.
"Sir," said Draco respectfully. "We've been ordered to report to you."
Feeling slightly foolish, Dumbledore returned the salute. "At ease. As you can imagine, we are keen to put a stop to these recent goings on, and hopefully you will be able to help."
"Yes, sir. We can say for definite that these attacks are linked in some way," Draco said thoughtfully, running a hand through his hair, "because there is NO WAY they can be coincidental."
"True. My sources report that one of the vehicles used has been seen near the Malfoy residence, and it seems prudent to investigate this thoroughly." He caught a trace of alarm in Draco's expression. "I'm sorry, Draco. It is almost beyond doubt that your father will be involved in some way. It is also entirely possible that he will attack any one of you if he sees you."
"Christ, I hope so." I blinked, looking at Draco in amazement. There was something in his eyes that made me want to run for my life. "Just let the bastard give me an excuse!"
Three hours later I was hanging upside down beneath my broom, getting a marvellous lower body workout whilst trying to jemmy a window open, and wondering why the hell I'd ever agreed to this.
//'You suggested getting in through an upstairs window, you get it open!' Hell, thanks a lot, sis. One of these days...!// I wrenched the window open and tumbled through, thankfully landing on a carpet into which I sank at least three inches. Under other circumstances this might have seemed funny.
I double-clicked my radio's Send button, but got only a low-volume buzz of static from the huge background magic levels. No surprise around here, I concluded grimly. My torch wasn't working either, so I muttered 'Lumos' to myself. With the aid of some electrician's tape, I affixed my wand to one side of my pistol's barrel, and began to take in my surroundings. I was in a small and very dusty bedroom, with a number of posters of various rock bands. Metallica, Korn, Marylin Manson... This had to be Draco's old room, and I'll bet he didn't let his Slytherin pals in here much! I doubt Lucius would have thought much of this sort of thing either, though I wouldn't be remotely surprised if Manson had a Dark Mark.
Very cautiously, I pushed open the door. Pitch darkness greeted me, only slightly countered by my impromptu substitute for the mini Mag-Lite in my pocket. I cursed silently, and moved towards Malfor Sr's study. I could recall most of the internal layout from odd summers spent here with my grandfather before he died and Lucius inherited the family seat, and Draco had brought us up to speed. He was covering the ground floor whilst Fran did the outbuildings, with the others waiting nearby in case of trouble.
I tried the study door, and found it unlocked. I opened it VERY cautiously, gun upraised. It didn't have a silencer, but I'd be stuffed if I had to fire a shot anyway. I peered around the door, and froze.
He was at his desk, writing something. He slowly turned around, his expression one of annoyance, and then stared in utter amazement at the exceptionally large semi-automatic I was pointing at him.
"Oh," he said thoughtfully. "Is it worth asking what you want?"
"I'll give you precisely five minutes to convince me that you didn't have a hand in the King's Cross bomb and all those attacks on some friends of mine. If you succeed -and I emphasise IF- then I will leave. If you don't, I'll be obliged to handcuff you and remove you to the Ministry for questioning."
"Ah, I see. Well," Lucius said slowly, "I only read about that in the Daily Prophet ystrday. I didn't approve of it, I might add. Let the Muggles use such crude methods among themselves."
"That's a bad word in my family," I observed coolly.
"Ah, yes. Alexis never liked me using that word about your mother, either." I was caught a little off guard, as I hadn't expected him to recognise me. Uncle Lucius and I had met all of twice in the last quarter century, after all.
"Are you finished? You still have..." I glanced at the clock on the wall, "three minutes left, and I'm not convinced AT ALL."
"Oh, I'm finished, all right..." That was about it so far as conversation goes, because at this juncture somebody hit me right behind the ear with something impressively heavy.