AN: Confused? So am I. Know who is being deceived? Want to tell me? Because I think the Dark Prince is doing a grand job of confusing me. And do you trust me? Do you really believe there are 13 chapters?
anonymous: Thanks for being the only reviewer for Chapter 6. But as for Sirius torture... Well, in this story he just happens to be the answer, not so much for torturing.
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The Rules of Engagement
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The place was unassuming. Few knew the name, and fewer still knew the location on the map. A great effort had been put forth so those who needed to know would find out. He had made sure of that. Or rather he had made sure the right people had the right information. He was not suppose to play games any longer. However, the time for games ended long before this event.
The Dark Lord and the Dark Prince were the first to arrive. The first to arrive, but the last to appear.
The Dark Prince watched, standing beside his Lord, as the suspicious Aurors arrived first. They came loudly and abruptly. Announcing their presence as though there was nothing to fear. A total of three. The rest of their contingency had been killed in the raid on Azkaban.
The Dark Prince watched as Fudge and Bones appeared. Aurors should have joined, but the wards he had set carefully limited the number of people that could arrive.
The two factions from the Ministry stared in confusion.
The Dark Prince and the Dark Lord felt the arrival of Harry Potter, hiding under his Invisibility Cloak. The Dark Prince had been careful to only allow Potter through, not his friends.
They were waiting for Dumbledore now. Who did not disappoint. And appeared in the company of Remus Lupin. The previous arrivals stood startled. Though in actuality the final number was carefully calculated.
Rule number one of engagement: plan your enemy's strategy for him; if not, have better than educated guesses.
An even two dozen Death Eaters surrounded the key figures in their little scheme. The word "trap" echoed though the empty minds. Only Dumbledore seemed to have been expecting this.
Standing before them were two men in pure white masks, one short, fat, and quite arrogant; the other had no outstanding characteristics, except that he stood heads taller than his companion. Between their trained wands slumped a slightly battered figure. One who had been on the wrong end of the wand one too many times.
Rule number two of engagement: out number and have the enemy at the point of disadvantage.
The Dark Prince left the shadows first. As was the case during the raid on the Ministry, he need not say a word. But this time, they knew he was real.
"Come now, Harry Potter, are you not going to say hello to your godfather?" the Dark Prince said. "And how does a boy who is not suppose to use magic find his way to a place he is not suppose to know the location of?"
The cloak fell, revealing boy and broom. Sirius Black appeared shocked, which was nothing to the Ministry officials. In the preoccupation, the Dark Lord appeared. Once again upsetting any balance.
"Now that we are all here, I believe it is time to end things." Lord Voldemort turned to the three out of place Aurors. "Let us begin with you three, shall we. And I wouldn't try anything Dumbledore," he mentioned to the old wizard, not deigning to glance in that direction, "not even you could stop everyone before your precious Gryffindors perished."
Dumbledore's hand was stayed. Black was given greater attention.
"I suppose the three of you are wondering why you are here," The Dark Lord began casually. "Frankly you are of no consequence, but I thought you might like to know that it is through your underhanded efforts that allowed this night to take place. Without your illegal interrogation of Sirius Black, and your subsequent erasion of those memories, I would be without the information needed to lure him in. You came for those papers, I believe. And that was our bargain, was it not? You wanted the papers, we wanted the Minister. As I always keep a bargain, you shall have them." Voldemort gestured for a nearby Death Eater to bestow a large package before the still uncomprehending Aurors.
The morons had not said anything that the Dark Prince had heard. And would soon not say a word more. It was hard to tell who looked like Twidle-dee, Twidle-dumb, or Twidle-dumber as they looked for help from the Minister. Fudge himself was doing an excellent job of imitating a fish out of water.
"Now that that's settled, I bid you farewell. Gentlemen."
Three masked Death Eaters broke from the circle and stood in front of the Aurors. At the same instant, they said "Aveda Kedavra." They went down to a small chorus of surprise and anger.
Rule number three of engagement: remove the strongest among the weakest first.
Dumbledore accused first, "That served no purpose, Tom."
"Did it not? I think otherwise. Three less to oppose me. Though I don't really know why they wanted to put Sirius Black as my right hand man. I really prefer the left." The Dark Lord took that opportunity to introduce his Dark Prince.
"You bastard! Sirius was right about you all along!"
"Remus!"
"That's right, Dumbledore, call to heel your pet werewolf."
"If I may, my Lord." The Prince bowed into the ensuing verbal blows.
"Of course, my Prince. It was you who organized this little get together. It would be a shame for you not to give your own explanations."
"That's just sick." The new voice wafted harshly from the only man tied as prisoner.
"Play nice, Black, or your old friend might find reason for his wand to slip," Voldemort chuckled lightly. "Wormtail, perhaps a reminder is in store." The squat man removed his mask with a silver hand, formerly well hidden under his robes. The face of Wormtail betrayed nervousness, all the while sporting superior smugness.
"Since we are all revealing our secrets," the Prince stated regaining the stage. "I feel obligated to correct our dear werewolf. He is, unfortunately, laboring under the pretenses that he is speaking with Severus Snape. I am sorry to disappoint, but Severus is no longer with us. Nor has he been for a long time. It is a wonder you did not listen to the Headmaster. You do so in every other case. Severus was merely a tool to be used. And to be discarded when that use is over. I, however, remain."
"Severus holds more influence than you realize."
"Have you forgotten the declaration that I am my Lord's? I gave you Severus. And that man is no more."
"As stimulating as this conversation is," the Dark Lord interrupted. "And I wouldn't go for my wand just yet, Potter. Not unless you intend to surrender it over to me." That wand never saw the light of the moon. "Now where was I? Ah yes. Your wand, Dumbledore, or his life." Voldemort nodded to his Prince and presently there were three deadly wands aimed at the prisoner.
"Now see here!"
"Fudge," distain. "One more word from you and I shall have to display your rotting corpse to the public instead of killing you in front of them. Either way, I doubt your public will miss you too much." The Minister could not snap his mouth shut fast enough. Must have thought there was still hope, judging by his looks towards Dumbledore.
"Now which is it, Dumbledore. Your wands or his life?"
"You will just kill him anyway." The Headmaster's words sparked interesting reactions from his followers. Strangled noises issued from Black's throat, but that may have been from Wormtail's rough treatment. A loud squawk of protest from the convict's godson. And the near impossible feat of having ones eyes pop out of one's head from the animagus's friend.
"Yes well, judging by the normal Gryffindor tendency, one would believe you would be more than willing for the extended period in which to plan any heroics. All in the hopes you are able to free yourselves, of course."
Dumbledore reached into his robes, Lupin mimicked the movement. Oddly, so did the blasted Boy-Who-Lived.
"Don't do it!" Black had the typical reaction. Wanting to die to keep his friends armed for a fight they would loose anyway.
Once the wands were drawn, it was apparent none were offered for the taking. At least not for the easy removal of the surrendered. All of the Death Eaters steadied their own weapon, already prepared for a conflict.
"Now really, Dumbledore. Do you think that wise? Everyone of you has at least two behind you ready to cast the Killing Curse at a mere word."
Rule number four of engagement: keep you advantage for as long as possible.
"Then you had best be able to say the word quickly, Tom. Before you are prevented from doing so."
Calculation from both sides. The Dark Prince edge nearer to the target. Few paid him any mind. Too busy wondering who would curse who first. That really should have been an easy decision.
He was ready for the next move. "Well, Black. Your beloved Headmaster doesn't seem to think you are worthy of his attention. Not that I find that surprising at all. Headmaster, my Lord asked for your wands, so I suggest you comply. Or are you really in the mood to know exactly what will happen?"
"I was unaware you were allowed to make those decisions." Mocking? Odd. Dumbledore was not normally the type to mock. Some things were not questioned.
"You under estimate his power of observation." Lord Voldemort spoke with a carelessness few would recognize as concern for his own well being. The Dark Prince, however was aware, and was wary. Dumbledore was not going to be persuaded. Things were going to get tricky.
"One last chance for the completely Gryffindor way out, Headmaster. The wands, or his life."
"Some days I wonder if I was really in Gryffindor." The Headmaster must be expecting something. Perhaps from his spy.
He did not grace the statement with a response. Turning slowly, one wary eye on Dumbledore, he took aim. "Aveda Kedavra."
Rule number five of engagement: prove you mean every word you say; it will be one lesson they won't soon forget.
It seemed no one had anything to say.
Well, except for Lucius. He could see the man fidget in his position next to the Dark Lord. Lord Voldemort's visage was a carefully controlled mask, hiding slight confusion. A glance at the kill revealed a Wormtail frozen in terror and the taller man crouched, ready to duel. The Gryffindors had yet to close their mouths.
He gave the man until the count of two and he had just passed the one and a half mark.
"That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do!"
"Was it? Judging from your actions, it was quite intelligent." And the Dark Lord said nothing. He would not compromise his trust in his Prince openly before the enemy. "You mean you would have just stood there, demanding more and more loudly for their wands, only to have them refuse each time because you did not have the nerve to show them you were serious. Your level of stupidity reaches new heights everyday." Malfoy's wand was now trained on the Prince. "Be sure you don't miss. You won't survive the consequences."
"Aveda Kedavra!"
The distance was to small to dodge. And nothing could block that spell.
The pristine white mask with the hematite bars gained a hairline fracture as the man supporting it fell with a soft thud on impact.
Not a word.
Not a sound.
Not a movement.
"STUPEFY!" The voice of a boy who has lost everything begins the chaos.
The curse was aimed for Voldemort, but Lucius was in the way.
Death Eaters went down only due to their own shock at seeing their idol topple.
Peter Pettigrew fell to Remus Lupin. A distance of many yards.
Others fall to Dumbledore's wand. He was aiming for Voldemort.
Fudge and Bones decimated from behind. Those Death Eaters not brave enough to kill head on.
Bodies fall. Spells flash. Noise distracts. Lights blinds. Wounds bleed. Shouts not heard. Lives lost.
The mask recovered. Taken by the Master and the corpse left behind.
No one knows when the Dark Lord vanished from the field. But when it was noticed, the Death Eaters fled. Left were the dead.
Stillness.
"Harry?" Search for the boy first. "Harry, where are you?" Remus called. No answer. "Harry!"
"He's over by Sirius." Headmaster Dumbledore. "Make sure he is all right." Only the Hogwarts's contingent remained standing. Only the Gryffindors. Which ever god protected fools and drunkards must lump that House in with the fools.
The Potter boy was kneeling at his godfather's side. To late to be of use. "Sirius." Lost. The things we care about the most are always lost first.
"Oh, Harry." Remorse. Grief. All pale before the sight of loss. Wrapped protectively by one who knows, tears flooded freely, seeking escape never allowed. No words spoken, all intuitive. All for one man who should never had been the cause.
"It doesn't matter now, does it?" Harsh words, hastily spoken. Angry words, without thought. Words only the heartbroken could achieve. Bitter words, knowing no solace.
"We still have him." The one thing that could solved the dilemma lay sprawled side by side with the stigmata of despair. "It is never to late."
"But who will believe it." No comfort.
"We have that body." Revenge. With such a strong desire. Woe be to those who stand in the path of destruction.
"Madame Bones is not dead yet." Invasion of a foreign element. Stoic. Grief needing release. Grief denied release. "And we should be expecting company soon." Pause. Swallow. Retain control. Can not afford to give into what threatens. Sorrow seeps through tightly shut eyelids. Confidence must be maintained. But confidence is lacking. Cannot look. Cannot see. Will not, until baser matters are dealt with accordingly.
"Gone."
"What?"
"Severus. His body is not here." Grief torn by loyalty.
Tears. Tears at the broken.
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AN: swallows I don't know. Honestly. Everything up to the crack in the mask was planned. After that, I just don't know. feels very shaken
Six more chapters to go until all is revealed. Deception is a wonderful tool.
anonymous: Thanks for being the only reviewer for Chapter 6. But as for Sirius torture... Well, in this story he just happens to be the answer, not so much for torturing.
__________________________________________
The Rules of Engagement
__________________________________________
The place was unassuming. Few knew the name, and fewer still knew the location on the map. A great effort had been put forth so those who needed to know would find out. He had made sure of that. Or rather he had made sure the right people had the right information. He was not suppose to play games any longer. However, the time for games ended long before this event.
The Dark Lord and the Dark Prince were the first to arrive. The first to arrive, but the last to appear.
The Dark Prince watched, standing beside his Lord, as the suspicious Aurors arrived first. They came loudly and abruptly. Announcing their presence as though there was nothing to fear. A total of three. The rest of their contingency had been killed in the raid on Azkaban.
The Dark Prince watched as Fudge and Bones appeared. Aurors should have joined, but the wards he had set carefully limited the number of people that could arrive.
The two factions from the Ministry stared in confusion.
The Dark Prince and the Dark Lord felt the arrival of Harry Potter, hiding under his Invisibility Cloak. The Dark Prince had been careful to only allow Potter through, not his friends.
They were waiting for Dumbledore now. Who did not disappoint. And appeared in the company of Remus Lupin. The previous arrivals stood startled. Though in actuality the final number was carefully calculated.
Rule number one of engagement: plan your enemy's strategy for him; if not, have better than educated guesses.
An even two dozen Death Eaters surrounded the key figures in their little scheme. The word "trap" echoed though the empty minds. Only Dumbledore seemed to have been expecting this.
Standing before them were two men in pure white masks, one short, fat, and quite arrogant; the other had no outstanding characteristics, except that he stood heads taller than his companion. Between their trained wands slumped a slightly battered figure. One who had been on the wrong end of the wand one too many times.
Rule number two of engagement: out number and have the enemy at the point of disadvantage.
The Dark Prince left the shadows first. As was the case during the raid on the Ministry, he need not say a word. But this time, they knew he was real.
"Come now, Harry Potter, are you not going to say hello to your godfather?" the Dark Prince said. "And how does a boy who is not suppose to use magic find his way to a place he is not suppose to know the location of?"
The cloak fell, revealing boy and broom. Sirius Black appeared shocked, which was nothing to the Ministry officials. In the preoccupation, the Dark Lord appeared. Once again upsetting any balance.
"Now that we are all here, I believe it is time to end things." Lord Voldemort turned to the three out of place Aurors. "Let us begin with you three, shall we. And I wouldn't try anything Dumbledore," he mentioned to the old wizard, not deigning to glance in that direction, "not even you could stop everyone before your precious Gryffindors perished."
Dumbledore's hand was stayed. Black was given greater attention.
"I suppose the three of you are wondering why you are here," The Dark Lord began casually. "Frankly you are of no consequence, but I thought you might like to know that it is through your underhanded efforts that allowed this night to take place. Without your illegal interrogation of Sirius Black, and your subsequent erasion of those memories, I would be without the information needed to lure him in. You came for those papers, I believe. And that was our bargain, was it not? You wanted the papers, we wanted the Minister. As I always keep a bargain, you shall have them." Voldemort gestured for a nearby Death Eater to bestow a large package before the still uncomprehending Aurors.
The morons had not said anything that the Dark Prince had heard. And would soon not say a word more. It was hard to tell who looked like Twidle-dee, Twidle-dumb, or Twidle-dumber as they looked for help from the Minister. Fudge himself was doing an excellent job of imitating a fish out of water.
"Now that that's settled, I bid you farewell. Gentlemen."
Three masked Death Eaters broke from the circle and stood in front of the Aurors. At the same instant, they said "Aveda Kedavra." They went down to a small chorus of surprise and anger.
Rule number three of engagement: remove the strongest among the weakest first.
Dumbledore accused first, "That served no purpose, Tom."
"Did it not? I think otherwise. Three less to oppose me. Though I don't really know why they wanted to put Sirius Black as my right hand man. I really prefer the left." The Dark Lord took that opportunity to introduce his Dark Prince.
"You bastard! Sirius was right about you all along!"
"Remus!"
"That's right, Dumbledore, call to heel your pet werewolf."
"If I may, my Lord." The Prince bowed into the ensuing verbal blows.
"Of course, my Prince. It was you who organized this little get together. It would be a shame for you not to give your own explanations."
"That's just sick." The new voice wafted harshly from the only man tied as prisoner.
"Play nice, Black, or your old friend might find reason for his wand to slip," Voldemort chuckled lightly. "Wormtail, perhaps a reminder is in store." The squat man removed his mask with a silver hand, formerly well hidden under his robes. The face of Wormtail betrayed nervousness, all the while sporting superior smugness.
"Since we are all revealing our secrets," the Prince stated regaining the stage. "I feel obligated to correct our dear werewolf. He is, unfortunately, laboring under the pretenses that he is speaking with Severus Snape. I am sorry to disappoint, but Severus is no longer with us. Nor has he been for a long time. It is a wonder you did not listen to the Headmaster. You do so in every other case. Severus was merely a tool to be used. And to be discarded when that use is over. I, however, remain."
"Severus holds more influence than you realize."
"Have you forgotten the declaration that I am my Lord's? I gave you Severus. And that man is no more."
"As stimulating as this conversation is," the Dark Lord interrupted. "And I wouldn't go for my wand just yet, Potter. Not unless you intend to surrender it over to me." That wand never saw the light of the moon. "Now where was I? Ah yes. Your wand, Dumbledore, or his life." Voldemort nodded to his Prince and presently there were three deadly wands aimed at the prisoner.
"Now see here!"
"Fudge," distain. "One more word from you and I shall have to display your rotting corpse to the public instead of killing you in front of them. Either way, I doubt your public will miss you too much." The Minister could not snap his mouth shut fast enough. Must have thought there was still hope, judging by his looks towards Dumbledore.
"Now which is it, Dumbledore. Your wands or his life?"
"You will just kill him anyway." The Headmaster's words sparked interesting reactions from his followers. Strangled noises issued from Black's throat, but that may have been from Wormtail's rough treatment. A loud squawk of protest from the convict's godson. And the near impossible feat of having ones eyes pop out of one's head from the animagus's friend.
"Yes well, judging by the normal Gryffindor tendency, one would believe you would be more than willing for the extended period in which to plan any heroics. All in the hopes you are able to free yourselves, of course."
Dumbledore reached into his robes, Lupin mimicked the movement. Oddly, so did the blasted Boy-Who-Lived.
"Don't do it!" Black had the typical reaction. Wanting to die to keep his friends armed for a fight they would loose anyway.
Once the wands were drawn, it was apparent none were offered for the taking. At least not for the easy removal of the surrendered. All of the Death Eaters steadied their own weapon, already prepared for a conflict.
"Now really, Dumbledore. Do you think that wise? Everyone of you has at least two behind you ready to cast the Killing Curse at a mere word."
Rule number four of engagement: keep you advantage for as long as possible.
"Then you had best be able to say the word quickly, Tom. Before you are prevented from doing so."
Calculation from both sides. The Dark Prince edge nearer to the target. Few paid him any mind. Too busy wondering who would curse who first. That really should have been an easy decision.
He was ready for the next move. "Well, Black. Your beloved Headmaster doesn't seem to think you are worthy of his attention. Not that I find that surprising at all. Headmaster, my Lord asked for your wands, so I suggest you comply. Or are you really in the mood to know exactly what will happen?"
"I was unaware you were allowed to make those decisions." Mocking? Odd. Dumbledore was not normally the type to mock. Some things were not questioned.
"You under estimate his power of observation." Lord Voldemort spoke with a carelessness few would recognize as concern for his own well being. The Dark Prince, however was aware, and was wary. Dumbledore was not going to be persuaded. Things were going to get tricky.
"One last chance for the completely Gryffindor way out, Headmaster. The wands, or his life."
"Some days I wonder if I was really in Gryffindor." The Headmaster must be expecting something. Perhaps from his spy.
He did not grace the statement with a response. Turning slowly, one wary eye on Dumbledore, he took aim. "Aveda Kedavra."
Rule number five of engagement: prove you mean every word you say; it will be one lesson they won't soon forget.
It seemed no one had anything to say.
Well, except for Lucius. He could see the man fidget in his position next to the Dark Lord. Lord Voldemort's visage was a carefully controlled mask, hiding slight confusion. A glance at the kill revealed a Wormtail frozen in terror and the taller man crouched, ready to duel. The Gryffindors had yet to close their mouths.
He gave the man until the count of two and he had just passed the one and a half mark.
"That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do!"
"Was it? Judging from your actions, it was quite intelligent." And the Dark Lord said nothing. He would not compromise his trust in his Prince openly before the enemy. "You mean you would have just stood there, demanding more and more loudly for their wands, only to have them refuse each time because you did not have the nerve to show them you were serious. Your level of stupidity reaches new heights everyday." Malfoy's wand was now trained on the Prince. "Be sure you don't miss. You won't survive the consequences."
"Aveda Kedavra!"
The distance was to small to dodge. And nothing could block that spell.
The pristine white mask with the hematite bars gained a hairline fracture as the man supporting it fell with a soft thud on impact.
Not a word.
Not a sound.
Not a movement.
"STUPEFY!" The voice of a boy who has lost everything begins the chaos.
The curse was aimed for Voldemort, but Lucius was in the way.
Death Eaters went down only due to their own shock at seeing their idol topple.
Peter Pettigrew fell to Remus Lupin. A distance of many yards.
Others fall to Dumbledore's wand. He was aiming for Voldemort.
Fudge and Bones decimated from behind. Those Death Eaters not brave enough to kill head on.
Bodies fall. Spells flash. Noise distracts. Lights blinds. Wounds bleed. Shouts not heard. Lives lost.
The mask recovered. Taken by the Master and the corpse left behind.
No one knows when the Dark Lord vanished from the field. But when it was noticed, the Death Eaters fled. Left were the dead.
Stillness.
"Harry?" Search for the boy first. "Harry, where are you?" Remus called. No answer. "Harry!"
"He's over by Sirius." Headmaster Dumbledore. "Make sure he is all right." Only the Hogwarts's contingent remained standing. Only the Gryffindors. Which ever god protected fools and drunkards must lump that House in with the fools.
The Potter boy was kneeling at his godfather's side. To late to be of use. "Sirius." Lost. The things we care about the most are always lost first.
"Oh, Harry." Remorse. Grief. All pale before the sight of loss. Wrapped protectively by one who knows, tears flooded freely, seeking escape never allowed. No words spoken, all intuitive. All for one man who should never had been the cause.
"It doesn't matter now, does it?" Harsh words, hastily spoken. Angry words, without thought. Words only the heartbroken could achieve. Bitter words, knowing no solace.
"We still have him." The one thing that could solved the dilemma lay sprawled side by side with the stigmata of despair. "It is never to late."
"But who will believe it." No comfort.
"We have that body." Revenge. With such a strong desire. Woe be to those who stand in the path of destruction.
"Madame Bones is not dead yet." Invasion of a foreign element. Stoic. Grief needing release. Grief denied release. "And we should be expecting company soon." Pause. Swallow. Retain control. Can not afford to give into what threatens. Sorrow seeps through tightly shut eyelids. Confidence must be maintained. But confidence is lacking. Cannot look. Cannot see. Will not, until baser matters are dealt with accordingly.
"Gone."
"What?"
"Severus. His body is not here." Grief torn by loyalty.
Tears. Tears at the broken.
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AN: swallows I don't know. Honestly. Everything up to the crack in the mask was planned. After that, I just don't know. feels very shaken
Six more chapters to go until all is revealed. Deception is a wonderful tool.