I suppose a portkey would have been smarter than the owl. I may improvise that in as a substitute later on.
We'll see. As of now I'm winging this story about one hundred and twenty percent.
Also, I'm sorry about the error with Black and Tonks. I sort of forgot they were cousins. (blush)
Give me strength to find the road that's lost in me;
and give me time to heal and build myself a dream;
and give me eyes to see the world surrounding me,
and give me strength to be only me.
Sirius' fingers choked the handle of his wand. Impenetrable darkness mocked his eyesight, refusing to reveal anything. The only sensation he was aware of was the restricting of his own throat and chest. Beads of sweat dripped menacingly into his straining eyes, causing him to blink back the betraying sting while hindering his eyesight even further. His breathing was havocked, yet it went unnoticed only because his teammates inhaled and exhaled in a similarly strained matter. The air was cold and damp, causing lungs to scream silently, joining in with the already well harmonized chorus of the most primitive of the senses.
Give me strength to find the road that's lost in me;
"Are we waiting for a signal?" Sirius asked in a voice very unlike himself. There was a long pause before anyone dared to answer. They knew the man's patience were wearing thin, as were their own, but it was nevertheless a key virtue they were all going to need to apply if any of them wanted to make it through this night alive.
"We're waiting for Millie's team to take up the lead."
Sirius grit his teeth, casting his gaze out into the ever darkening corridor. They did not dare illuminate their wands for fear of exposure, but at the same time it wouldn't make much sense if they all foolishly pitched themselves down an open shaft or a flight of stairs.
"What are they waiting for?"
An exasperated sigh came from their team leader, Allen.
"I don't know, I'm not a mind reader Mr. Black."
Sirius sighed in exasperation. "You're telling me we didn't bring one?"
Remus shot his friend a menacing glare, warning him to be silent. Sirius complied with the tacit demand, though not happily. His nerves were near shot. They were so close to Harry, but they weren't doing anything about it! When were they going to move?
As if someone had heard his heartfelt prayers, Allen raised a hand.
"We're taking the first flight down," he reported to the team behind him. It consisted of eight wizards, himself, Sirius, and Remus among them. With them also was Tonks, Diggle, and three from Millie's team. One, Linford Deitweiler, a tall male red head who might have been a long lost Weasley, a short blonde female known to them only as Margo, and then Marcus Holmes, a medium sized black man who had a clean shaven head, a charming smile, and a glitter in his eyes to match. "Stick to the left and we should find a clear path to the lowest floor where they're keeping the prisoners."
"What are we doing after that?" Remus asked, seeming disappointed that they were acting strictly as rescue and reconnaissance.
"Getting them out of here."
There was a few seconds pause in which each in turn took this information into account. They had the easy part. Search and rescue. Get the people out of here before the Dark Forces realized what was going on. Then, the moment was swiftly interrupted by their troupe leader's voice. "Let's go."
'Hang on Harry,' Sirius spoke within the depths of his screaming head. 'I'm coming.'
"They're not coming," said the same melodramatic voice time and time again. It was like clockwork. Every few minutes, that three word statement was all the man had to say. All day, everyday, and well into the night. "They're not coming."
"Would you shut up?" Harry growled, glaring angrily at the thinning character. The only thing in a worse state than his body was his mind. Voldemort has taken special efforts to damage the minds of a vast number of his prisoners. Harry had been spared, though for reasons he wasn't sure were much better.
Looking up at nothing, he wondered suddenly if the crazy wizard he shared his cell with was right. How could they be coming? Sirius and Remus has assuredly gotten his message. The telepathic connection had ended abruptly, yes, but they'd received the more vital information.
But could they get here? Or even worse, would they get here and be too late.
Harry sighed, hitting his head on the cell wall in frustration. So many questions, and not one single answer.
"They're not coming."
"Do we know exactly where we're going?" came a huffy voice from the back of the formation. All eyes turned on Diggle with a severe sense of loathing. This was only the fifth time he'd asked the same damn question.
"No, we're wandering about aimlessly," snapped Margo. "We thought we might make better time that way."
"Where are the others?" Remus asked, not wanting this quarrel to escalate. The last thing they needed was to get captured because a few of their teammates felt a little argumentative.
Allen breathed a sigh and invoked a very handy locating spell. An illuminated square appeared just above his elevated want tip, showing the schematics of the keep with brilliant vibrancy. All over, bright orange dots showed the exact placement of their fellow counterparts in the mission. Moody and Millie's operations were moving toward the middle floor where surveillance had shown a large number of Death Eaters gathering for a ritual.
A second team, ordered by Moody before entering the Keep, was just showing up on the outskirts of the castle. Some were remaining within flying distance in case of a necessary emergency escape, but others were advancing inside through random openings that had been found around the castle area. Teams of one and two were slipping past cracks that the inhabitants of this castle didn't even know existed. To the untrained eye, this battle was already won.
But none on this team were fools, and not one eye was not in tune with the procedures and dangers involved. They knew even now that there was a great deal of risk involved. The night was still far, far from over.
"Right," Sirius said, nodding his head, happy with the confirmation of their placement, and that of the others. "Let's keep moving."
"Hold," Millie demanded. Her voice, even in a whisper, cut the stillness of the night as sharply as any knife would slice through a loaf of bread. All things stopped when she spoke, for no one would take the chance to disrespect this woman. Her word was law, and her law was not to be broken. All orders came from her, and no one was to go back on them lest Millie said otherwise.
Moody was the only one who didn't think this way, and he carelessly showed it in his actions.
As Millie repeated her order, Moody moved on. He didn't mean it as a disrespect, not that he would have cared anyway, but for reasons that could not be explained. Moody felt that something was wrong.
Rituals made noise. Not rough and noticeable, but there was usually chanting to be heard. Low, guttural choruses from the mindless followers of the dark priest who was bringing forth the malevolency typically followed as well. But here there was nothing, and Moody could sense in the pit of his stomach that something was definitely wrong.
"Alastor! Damn it! Get back here!"
Moody continued to ignore her. He pushed onward, urging his team to follow. They did so, but not happily. Yet, as Moody, inched forward and tapped the entry door, he realized too fast and too late the mistake they had made. Surveillance had been correct, but in their haste they had jumped to conclusions and depended on assumptions instead of facts.
There were Death Eaters in the courtyard, but they weren't performing a ritual.
They were waiting for the Order.
Fin a la chapter nineteen. Sorry it has to end here...but I'm kinda tired. (jumps into bed and dreams of her school burning to the ground)
Lyrics: "Give me Strength" by Over the Rhine