The Mirror of Battle

"In motion be like water…, at rest like a mirror. Resound like the echo. Be subtle, as though non-existent." (Lao Tse: Tao-Te-King)

Lucius Malfoy stretched his long legs under the old heavy wood table and leaned back in his chair. To his side an open fire crackled beneath a high, carved mantle. He carefully lifted a pint glass filled to the top with amber liquid to his lips and took a tentative sip.

His features briefly contorted in distaste.

"Muggle beer," he murmured and shook his head at his companion.

Thin red scratches crisscrossed his face and gained him surreptitious glances from some of the other patrons at Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese pub in London.

At this time on a late November afternoon the pub was busy with Fleet Street journalists, lawyers and barristers from the Old Bailey and a few tourists with guide books who read about the great fire of London that had destroyed the previous tavern in 1666.

"By Azrael, I wish Severus would hurry up, and we'll get this over with," the blond wizard sighed and took another drink of his beer.

Opposite him sat a tall, re-haired woman in a grey tailored suede leather blouse and black denims. Her face and neck showed similar injuries to his and she kept a close watch on a round cardboard box she had placed on the table in front of her.

"He'll come," she reassured him. "The owl just needs some time to get to Hogwarts."

She stretched and looked around.

"We should order something to eat while we wait. That sandwich on the plane was a joke, and this place is famous for its steak and kidney pudding," she coaxed him

Lucius shot her a glance out of pale grey eyes.

"Merlin's balls, you have nerves! We may well be facing the Dark Lord in a few hours, and here you are thinking about steak and kidney pudding!"

Eleanor shrugged her shoulders.

"Even more reason to get a decent meal under your belt. You'll need your strength; plus a pint of IPA on an empty stomach is not going to do you any good when it comes to dueling skills. Let me go and order something."

The wizard watched her get up and walk over to the bar where she was soon talking to a white-shirted muggle wearing a long black apron. He rolled his head back on his shoulders and closed his eyes. Every one of his bones was aching with exhaustion.

After the retrieval of the mirror they had had no problem in leaving the old Sartorius residence through the underground passageway. The strange imp-like creatures that had attacked them had still been immobilized. He hoped the spell would hold until the whole lot of them died of starvation.

No one had challenged them as they made their way back to the muggle guest house where he insisted Eleanor spent a good half hour soaking in a steaming hot bath before he had allowed her back into bed. She had been blue in the face and shivering violently in her sopping wet clothes. Eventually his wife had persuaded him to join her and his lips curved in amusement at the memory. For two people the bath tub had been rather cramped and had made for very intimate contact.

They had both decided that while the injuries they had sustained at the hands of the heinzelmännchen were conspicuous they would not risk empathicura to get rid of them. They had already pushed their luck with his immobilization spell. Tired and drained they had eventually managed to get a few hours sleep.

In the morning they had faced their long trip back: taxi, train, plane; and then, at the muggle airport in London Eleanor had convinced him to accept Severus' offer of help.

"He has proved where his loyalties lie," she had told him. "If he was on Voldemort's side, the Dark Lord would have found you when we got the mirror. He would have had his Death Eaters apparate and take the weapon from us. Instead Severus' shielding salve protected you."

So they had sent a Wizarding Owl Mail owl with an anonymous message to Hogwarts and taken muggle transportation into central London to avoid detection by Death Eaters, who would undoubtedly watch Malfoy Manor.

The rustle of clothes startled him out of his reverie and as he opened his eyes Eleanor was sliding back onto the dark wood bench behind the table.

"Two puddings coming up," she promised him, and then he saw her eyes go wide in surprise.

He craned his neck and followed her glance. An elderly man had just entered the bar, accompanied by a woman dressed in green and brown plaid. His appearance was striking enough to attract surprised attention from the muggle patrons. A white beard covered his chest and reached down to his belt. White long hair hung around his shoulders, and despite the fact that he wore a rather smartly-cut brown coat and a deerstalker hat, he had absolutely nothing of a muggle about him.

Behind him followed a group of people who seemed only marginally less conspicuous. There was a red-haired, buxom woman in a baggy, knitted dress and overcoat made from wool that was dyed in all colors of the rainbow. She had her arm laid around the waist of a red-haired man in a shabby grey cloak and formless felt hat. Both scowled at the sight of the blond wizard sitting at the table ahead of them. There was also a young woman with bubblegum pink hair, who grinned at him lopsidedly, and a horribly disfigured man with a peg-leg, a scarred face and an eye-patch, and finally Severus Snape himself in a long black coat he had buttoned up to his chin. The potions master looked rather grim.

Lucius sat up straight, glaring at the visitors, his lips curling in distaste and anger. Severus had actually dragged half the bloody Order of the Phoenix along with him to London. Before he could say something, the woman with pink hair had stepped over to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down without an invitation. She tilted her head and looked him over.

"Oh, first marriage spat, uncle?" she teased him. "You look pretty scratched up. Handfasted yourself to quite a spirited witch, eh? And muggle clothes… tsk, tsk… Developed a taste for slumming it?"

"Tonks," he hissed. "How dare you?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Couldn't care less, uncle," she said dismissively. "But I heard my cousin is in trouble. Thought I could help."

"Mr. Malfoy," interrupted the white-haired man. "May we sit down? I believe we have important matters to discuss."

Lucius' jaws worked, but finally he answered.

"Professor Dumbledore. I cannot say I am pleased to see you, and I am sure the dislike is mutual, but as you are all already here, we may as well talk."

He cast a quick look over at Eleanor and saw her exhale in relief. She scooted over on the bench to make space for the red-haired couple and quietly hid the mirror box next to her under her coat.

Muggles cast curious glances at them, but unconsciously created a space for the group as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley slipped onto the bench, Snape pulled up chairs for Professors Dumbledore and McGonagal and Auror Moody briefly lifted his eye patch to revel a huge pale blue eye for a few seconds and then found himself a chair as well.

Tonks got up again and laid a hand along Snape's arm, who was still standing.

"Let's get some drinks and food, Severus," she suggested.

The witch and the wizard walked over to the bar.

Dumbledore leaned forward and steepled his hands before him.

"Severus has told me what happened at your handfasting the day before yesterday: Voldemort has kidnapped Draco and is forcing you to give him the Mirror of Battle."

The headmaster caught Moody's eye for a moment and then glanced over to Eleanor.

"I see," he said. "You have retrieved the mirror, and you have brought it with you."

The red-haired witch laid her hand protectively over her coat.

"How do you know?" she asked.

Dumbledore gave her a gentle smile.

"Remind me to tell you about Alastor's remarkable abilities one of these days," he said.

"Well," she said defensively. "We haven't brought the mirror to hand it over to Voldemort. He will kill Draco and us anyway, whether he gets Wermuth's creation or not. We have got the mirror to fight him."

The headmaster nodded.

"Ah, yes, fighting. After all, it is called the Mirror of Battle, is it not? So let me ask you: what is more important to you: to defeat Voldemort, or to rescue Draco?"

Lucius interrupted them, his voice low and harsh.

"There is no 'either – or'. There is no choice! We will get my son back and we will fight and be avenged upon the Dark Lord. He attacked us, he had me tortured and poisoned, he nearly got my wife raped and killed, he tried to murder my son and now holds him prisoner. He has made our lives a living hell since my arrest. He will be made to pay.

If you want to help us: if you want to throw this ragtag of mudbloods and muggle-lovers or your wonder-weapon of the boy-who-lived at him, that's your privilege, but we will do this with you or without you. And we don't need your help. We certainly don't need you to interfere."

He leaned forward with a sneer.

"After all, you've always had others do your bidding, haven't you? You are using your own students to fight your battles, your 'Dumbledore's Army' led by that Potter boy, who has been your pawn for years. Why not let the Malfoys do your dirty work for once? What's the loss? None of you would shed one tear if we got ourselves killed. Am I right?"

At that moment Snape and Tonks returned with glasses of beer for everyone. Tonks lifted an exaggerated eyebrow.

"Och, this is tense," she grinned. "You can almost cut the air with an athame. Did we miss something?"

Lucius fell back into his seat.

"Tell us what you want and leave us alone," he said tiredly. "We don't have time for this."

Dumbledore took a deep draught of his beer and wiped the foam off his beard with the back of his hand.

"Lucius, your son is in danger. Shouldn't that be all that matters? I am here, because one of my students got abducted while under the care of one of my teachers. I will do anything in my power to get him back unharmed."

He smiled.

"I will even work with you. Even the Weasleys will work with you, despite what you did to their daughter Ginny – As long as our focus is the same: rescuing Draco. So I'll ask you again, both of you. What is your goal: rescue or revenge?"

Lucius answer fell just short of a snarl.

"I want my son back alive, old man."

The headmaster rubbed his hands.

"Splendid!" he announced happily. "Severus, I believe you have some insights on the matter, have you not?"

The potions master shook his limp black hair out of his face and curled his lips in a brief display of displeasure.

"We've had a gathering last night. The Dark Lord thought he had picked up some spellwork out of Cologne in Germany, but believed he had been mistaken when he could not activate Lucius' mark. He was extremely angry. I saw Draco during that time. He is in bad shape, but he is still alive."

The blond wizard sat upright with a jolt.

"You saw him! What do you mean he is in bad shape?"

Snape sighed.

"He hadn't been given any food or drink it seemed and he looked like he was suffering from the aftereffects of the cruciatus. You know: involuntary muscle spasms and cramps. Something must have also injured his arm, because it was roughly bound up in some bandages. I couldn't find out more because the Dark Lord had two renegade Dementors guard him, and none of us were allowed near him."

"Holy Hecate," breathed Molly Weasly. "And he's just a boy. The poor, poor kid. That is just terrible."

Lucius shot her a contemptuous glance out of icy grey eyes.

"He's not just a boy, he's a Malfoy, Mrs. Weasley," he said coldly, then he turned back to Snape.

"Which arm?"

The teacher blinked.

"His left – oh!"

He broke off.

The blond wizard hit the flat of his hand on the table hard enough to make the pint glasses jump.

"He's marked him. He's marked him so he will always know where he is. Damn him!"

Dumbledore's gentle voice interrupted him.

"Where did you meet? Where are they holding Draco, Severus?"

Just then a waiter came with their dishes and the conversation paused. When everyone had their plate in front of them, the old wizard looked at Snape again and lifted a questioning eyebrow.

The potions master inspected the wood-grain of the table. He seemed reluctant to answer. Finally he met the headmaster's eyes.

"I – I do not know, Albus. The Dark Lord called us, and he steered the apparitions through his magic. I did not recognize the place. It was an old house by the looks of it, wizarding, not muggle, but deserted, and it must have stood empty for quite some time. It definitely was not the old Riddle house in Little Hangleton."

"Well, it wouldn't," growled Auror Moody. "He's too shrewd for that. Despite his powers and his Death Eaters we would have rounded him up there and fought him. He must have found himself a new hiding place. And I bet it's unplottable and warded like you wouldn't believe."

Lucius leaned back and exhaled in frustration.

"That's just brilliant," he snarled. "Severus, this was the one thing I had hoped you'd be good for. That's while we owled you. How in Merlin's name can we fight him when we do not know where he is?"

He watched Eleanor rub her hands over her face. She looked as devastated at Snape's confession as he felt. The Weasley woman actually laid her arm around her and patted her on the shoulder.

"There, there, dear. I am sure Albus will think of something."

Dumbledore sat silent for a few moments with the rest of the group watching him in expectation. To his embarrassment even Lucius found that he was holding his breath.

"We can't find him and fight him,' the old wizard finally said. "But we can get you two picked up by him, and we can certainly find you."

"What!" Lucius face had acquired an intense crimson color that even hid his scratch marks. "Are you insane? We've been living like fucking muggles for the last two days and almost got ourselves killed by some demented German imps trying to remain undetected by the Dark Lord! And now you suggest we should give up the one small advantage that we have and hand ourselves over to him voluntarily.

From what Draco has been telling me over the last few years I suspected you were crazy, but now I am sure that you have completely lost your marbles. Why don't we hand over the mirror as well, while we are at it!"

"Shhhh!" admonished him Arthur Weasly. "We are among muggles. Keep it down, will you?"

The elder Malfoy snorted at him, but Dumbledore smiled elatedly as if Lucius had somehow turned into a star pupil of Hogwarts over night.

"But of course," he said. "Naturally you have to take the mirror with you. Otherwise Voldemort would know we are out to deceive him and would kill you and your son right away."

Now even the other Order members looked slightly uncomfortable.

"That is an unexpected move, certainly, but also very risky. If You-know-who gets the mirror under his control before we can get to them, we can kiss the world as we know it goodbye," said Moody gruffly.

"Well, then we must make haste, mustn't we," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "Arthur, Molly and Tonks, would you be so kind and alert the others including the aurors? I believe Mundungus is in Diagon Alley negotiating with the proprietor of the Magical Menagerie about a shipment of kneazles that doesn't belong to him. Remus should be home and hopefully off his aconite potion by now. The full moon has been over for two days now. Let's all meet in my office at Hogwarts in exactly half an hour."

The Weasleys and the young auror got up and left the pub.

Lucius turned to Dumbledore, still glowering. "I do not think I heard myself agree to your idiotic…"

A sharp glace hit him out of blue eyes.

"You want Draco back, don't you?" said the headmaster quietly. "You told me that was more important than to fight. Then I suggest you do agree. Voldemort has nothing but contempt for true loyalty and love. He does not value them and he does not understand them.

If you allow yourselves to be found by him, appearing willing to trade the mirror for the life of your son he will believe that he has won, because your love for Draco made you weak. He will despise you for it, but he will not anticipate a trap. The last thing he will suspect is that we have formed an alliance for the sake of the boy. All you have to do is stall and buy us a little time."

Dumbledore paused, but this time the blond wizard did not speak.

"Eleanor," continued the headmaster after a while. "The mirror: you have looked at it?"

She took a deep breath.

"Yes, Albus," she said slowly. "I have never come across anything remotely like it. Its power is – frightening."

"Have you touched it with your bare hands?"

"It wanted me to, it tried to control me, make me declare its purpose, but Lucius stopped me. I am sure had I touched it, Voldemort would have been aware of it."

"Under no circumstances touch it or use it," warned the old wizard. "Don't let Voldemort have it, either. He will want you to relinquish ownership of it to him – the only way Wermuth's blood-of-kin spell can be broken. But you can't let him have it. Delay him any way you can."

Eleanor nodded feeling hardly surprised that Dumbledore knew so much about the magical mirror. The headmaster looked down as he stuck his hand in his coat pocket and then pulled out a large purple handkerchief, a silvery device that looked a bit like a small sextant and finally a large paper bag that moved conspicuously as he put in on the table.

"Here," he invited them and stuffed the other objects back into his pocket. "Have some chocolate frogs, all of you."

"What would I want with some children's sweets in the name of Merlin?" asked Lucius, looking clearly annoyed.

Snape's slender fingers pulled apart the paper and expertly closed around one of the frogs.

"Dementors, I believe," he said curtly and popped the confection unto his mouth.

"Really Albus," said Professor McGonagal reproachfully. "What if one escapes, among all these muggles…"

She stretched her hand out over the paper bag.

"Immobilis," she murmured and as the movements stopped she passed the bag first to Moody and then to the two Malfoys.

"Minerva, where's your sense of fun?" complained Dumbledore, but when everyone had taken their dose of chocolate he tilted his head and looked at Lucius and Eleanor once more.

"I believe it's time to go," he said. "Let's find a place were we are unobserved and where you can disapparate. If I recall correctly the Cheshire Cheese has a cellar bar for special events."

They pushed back their chairs and followed the old wizard through a maze of rooms, down an old wooden staircase and through a door with a sign that read "Bar closed for dinner event 8:00 PM. Independent Investment Bank" into a crypt-like basement.

Dumbledore rooted in his pockets once more and pulled out what appeared to be a small thin gold chain with two round tags hanging off it. He passed one of the tags to Lucius, who inspected it curiously before he stuck it into his trouser pocket.

"A locus device," he finally said. "I see you have come prepared for this plan."

Dumbledore ran his hand over his beard.

"Naturally."

He put the other end of the chain that held the second tag back into his coat and the gold chain stretched until it became so attenuated that it seemed almost invisible.

"Time to announce yourselves," he said.

Lucius stood so he faced Eleanor. She looked scared and determined at the same time, holding the box with the mirror tucked firmly under her arm. For a moment he regarded her. She had no need to accompany him, yet she hadn't even for one moment given the impression that she would not want to stand by him.

"Are you sure?" he asked her quietly and rolled back his left sleeve to expose his bare forearm.

She managed a small smile.

"Just be grateful I've never met the Dark Lord before," she attempted to tease him. "Or I might try to revise my opinion…"

He lowered his head and when he looked at her again, she read gratefulness in his keen grey eyes. Then he pinched the skin over his mark causing Snape's salve to crack and peel. He rubbed at the flakes until the skull and serpent design was fully visible.

Taking a step forward he laced his fingers of his right had through hers.

"How about a spot of magic," he said lightly. "Perhaps something to fix our souvenirs from Cologne?"

Her smile broadened.

"Let's die looking good?" she quipped and touched her left hand to his face. "Oh Lucius, you sense of style will never fail you. I will see you on the other side, my love. – Empathicura!"

He had barely heard her words and sensed the effects of her spell when the mark on his arm flared up in painful intensity, his surroundings blurred and he felt himself rushed away.