(Drusilla, I hope you're feeling better and I send an especial thank you for the marvelous compliment!) blush
For some reason, this chapter was difficult. Edited to repair continuity flaw
As ever, standard disclaimers apply.
Albus was in the midst of an evening's quiet contemplation of the day's events (or perhaps lack of them) when Alastor Moody's gruff voice in the fireplace shattered the comfortable silence. "Alastor? What has you so excited? Has something happened?"
"We need to talk Albus. Dung and I... Headquarters is probably best and you'll need to gather a few folks."
Dumbledore's eyebrows migrated up his forehead. "Mundungus? Is he with you? Is this about Severus?"
"Yes to all of those."
At the time, the Headmaster had not asked for further explanation. Now, with a goodly number of the Order hastily assembled, he was anxious to hear everything the two men had to say and everyone he'd contacted had arrived. And then some. He was well aware of the three pairs of Extendable Ears (Hermoine had been taken home as her parents were, after all, expecting her and no one agreed with the teens that she should stay) waiting on every word. "Alastor?" he prodded gingerly but firmly.
But it was Fletcher who spoke up. "I didn't have much choice, really. They blackmailed me, nothing all that bad compared to, say, Death Eaters, but you know I'm into a few things... that could be misinterpreted--" he ignored Molly Weasley's indignant snort "--by folks in the Ministry..." He paused to take a long breath.
"Get on with it," Kingsley Shaklebolt rumbled exasperatedly. "We're not Hit Wizards, we don't care about your petty crime at the moment."
"You may not but others would--" He grimaced. "They could make it very bad for me. They wanted Snape. These Aurors. They said they'd get rid of the files if I helped them. So I did." He slumped in his seat, defeated though not particularly remorseful; it was only Snape after all, not the Order, he'd betrayed.
"I know these Aurors, Albus," Moody took over. "As do you Kingsley."
"Raoul? Merritt?" Understanding lit the Auror's dark face, remembering Alastor and Raoul at Florean's.
"Yeah. Well, the important thing is that they've handed Snape over to Muggles." Moody ended his over terse report in a grimmer than usual voice.
"Muggles!" One witch gasped. "Why?"
"Merritt and a particular Muggle share a connection. Merritt's first partner, Eric Sellinger had a Muggle sister. I know her, she's a very determined lady." He paused and grimaced at Albus' patiently waiting gaze. "She is knowledgeable about Wizards and she works for an official Muggle intelligence service called Mi6."
Upstairs Harry's eyes went wide but Ginny and Ron only looked confused at his expression of shock. All three teens kept silent and strained to hear the rest.
"She's... something like an Auror?" Mrs Weasley was struggling to understand things.
"No, Margaret Alice is an expert on the human psyche and physiology."
"Eh?" Mundungus was lost. (Ron and Ginny were as mystified as the thief but as they weren't included in the meeting figured Hermoine could explain it later. They planned on reporting the whole thing to her anyway.)
"She studies how people think and respond to situations both mentally and physically," Tonks explained.
"She believes that Snape killed her brother and she wants revenge."
"Did he?" Another wizard asked.
"Probably," Moody sneered. He hadn't actually seen it. "Those of you who remember Grindelwald will also remember the Muggle War. This group is the Secret Intelligence Service, Mi6, that was so active then."
"Wouldn't she simply kill him outright?" the same wizard proposed hopefully.
"Honestly, if I thought that, I never would have brought any of this up," Moody growled holding Dumbledore's sad gaze with his cold one. "No, some of you will recall that Muggle group got much too close to finding out about us. Merlin only knows what the Muggle Prime Minister tells them. Isolation is the only answer for us, too bad the fools don't realize it." He was beginning to rant.
"Where would they be holding Severus, Alastor?" Dumbledore's voice was quiet, considered. He was not going to let this interview stray off into nonessential paths.
"I don't know."
"What could these people possibly do that would hurt us?" the witch who'd made the earlier query now asked. "What can he tell them that they would even believe?" She was a bit too young to have been involved in the conflicts of the 1940s so, like many others, was rather confused as to why Moody and Dumbledore (and one or two others) were so concerned.
"Because, my dear, if they already believe he is a wizard, they will want to find some way to control his magic for themselves." Alastor explained sharply, speaking as if she were too dim witted to truly comprehend the situation.
But she did then and so did everyone else. There was a collective gasp from around the table (and two from upstairs).
"That's what they were doing originally, but it backfired because as a Pureblood he reacted unexpectedly to the muggle potions they were using to try to control him! So they dumped him into one of their horrible places like so much trash!" The whole thing fell neatly into place for Molly Weasley. Her eyes widened as the words fell from her lips. "I never would have believed it!"
Dumbledore and Moody could only nod in agreement. Fletcher looked ill. No one had to say it. No one could not realize then that the missing wizard had to be found. They diverged, however, on their opinions as to what actions should then be taken.
"It is most imperative that we find out where Severus is being held. I know each of you will do what you can. But I cannot stress enough that care must be taken not to involve any more Muggles, not to reveal to anyone what we are about. Not even the Ministry." He passed his gaze around the table. "If there is nothing else, we are adjourned. But Alastor, Mundungus I would ask you to remain."
While everyone else got up to leave, those two men blanched and Molly said pointedly to Arthur, "Why don't we check on the children dear?"
The room cleared quickly, Tonks shooting an uncertain but sympathetic glance to Mad-Eye while Molly's glare was nothing short of a silent glare somehow incongruently loud enough to make the two men towards whom it was directed wince in pain. Meanwhile, the 'children' in question scrambled to put away the Extendable Ears and look as innocent as possible. Ron and Harry had set up a game of wizards chess before the meeting and by the time Mr and Mrs Weasley had got upstairs seemed perfectly engrossed it , while Ginny was curled up with a book nearby.
Back in the kitchen, three men waited until the eldest was certain there was no one to hear their conversation. "Mundungus, I am greatly disappointed," he said with such gentleness that the other two men cringed in overwhelming dismay that they might be responsible for this.
"Look, Headmaster, it wasn't as if I volunteered. They had a file, you know my usual ... business isn't quite.. erm..."
"Yes, I know. I understand your reason, child, but I am unsure that I can forgive you just yet." He sighed. "Fear often makes us do things we regret." He stared hard at the thief. "But I fear you do not regret your actions in so far as they concern Severus."
"I'll be honest, Dumbledore. I don't like the man. No one does, you know. You believe he's our spy. I can't tell either way. But I am sorry I hurt you."
The old man nodded. "I understand. Please leave, Mundungus."
The thief paled. "Are you throwing me out of the Order?"
"No. No, I am not. You are also important to our fight and to us. But I shall have to limit my trust for a while. Do you understand?"
"Yeah. I suppose I do. Erm..."
"Please consider your actions more carefully, Mundungus. You should have come to me when you were first threatened. You should have known to do that."
Mundungus' head hung as he felt both shame and the shock that he had indeed made a right mess of things and had, perhaps, been a fool to boot. "Thank you, sir. Good night," he said at last and dragged himself out of headquarters.
Moody had sat unmoved and impassive the whole time. he knew his old friend was not going to be as kindly towards him. "No, Albus," he made the first move. "I am not sorry for my actions except that I was stupid. You say he's a spy. Well, if he is, he's a damned ineffective one. But spy or not, he's a traitor to everyone and deserves nothing less than a long,. brutal stay at Azkaban!" He did not reiterate his favorite 'once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater' refrain however.
"You had no right, Alastor! No right at all. What exactly was your part in this treachery! No one can possibly blackmail you!" The ancient Headmaster's eyes raged as fiercely as his words.
"Do you think so little of me, Albus? Actually, I didn't do anything." He was almost smug. "I saw Dung and Snape leave the house and followed them to that lot at thirty-four. I saw four Aurors approach and stun them. I wasn't sure what they had planned for Dung so I revealed myself and told them to leave him." He paused and sighed. This truth might well destroy his friendship with the old wizard. "I let them drag Snape off. I figured there'd be a little torture and then the Death Eater would have a short trial and end up in Azkaban. Justice served."
He expected an explosion; a tirade of angry words. He got neither. Albus Dumbledore slumped in his chair and let his face drop into his hands. Both men remained motionless until Dumbledore roused himself and looked up. His face was wet with tears that tracked into his beard. "You are too harsh, Alastor. Too set in your opinions and too sure of yourself. You are not Severus Snape's judge, not his jury. My word, my voucher was not enough for you. It is I who makes the decisions for the Order, Alastor Moody, not you! If you cannot accept that then you are welcome to separate yourself from the Order!" His voice, which had started out soft and pained but steady slowly crescendoed til his tone revealed both hurt and anger.
"Is that what you wish Albus? That we end both friendship and allegiance here and now?"
Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. He became calm but cold. "No, Alastor. That is not what I want. I am... angry. Perhaps... Perhaps it is best if we speak of this another time. But I ask you to consider that your betrayal, for that is what it was, of Severus is also a betrayal of our friendship."
--
The tiny room was bright with a luminance that pounded through his closed eyes. Even so, he would have been asleep had not nearly every drop of his head generated a painful shock that reverberated through his body and forced him awake. Although once in a while, instead, he was punished with a dousing of frigid water that rained down from the ceiling.
He was shivering, he was in agony, he was exhausted, he was confused.
She called him a murderer and he now believed her. He wished she'd simply kill him and get it over with. But perhaps he was also a torturer and so deserved whatever she did to him. But he couldn't remember. All he recalled was Molly and Remus. A thick grey fog enshrouded the rest and he wondered if perhaps it was better that way.
Undirected, his tongue flicked out to lick at the drop of water that meandered down his cheek. It was oddly salty.