Author's Note: A combination of the lateness of the hour, thunderously loud rock music and heavily Bells-enhanced coffee means that this concluding chapter will involve quite a lot of death and destruction, as well as references to BDSM in the context of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. The phrase Cho says in her family's native language was borrowed from one of Vampbarbie's 'Firefly' stories. You wouldn't believe me if I gave you a literal translation.
"Everybody down!" Rick yelled, grabbing his Uzi and firing through the nearest window. "Molly, Arthur, get the kids into the cellar! Everybody else, suppressing fire!"
"Just like the last time, isn't it?" Draco remarked, firing wildly out of the window with a pair of Tec-9 machine pistols (Author's Note: I know Rick thought they were something else in Chapter 1, but he didn't have his Jane's Recognition Guide on him). "All we need are Snape with a sniper rifle and Harry's parents chucking Molotovs and it'd be practically the same tactical situation!"
A three-round burst destroyed Arthur's brand new widescreen television. "Not quite!" Ginny laughed, spraying a rustling bush with gunfire.
"They got that trick from us!" Rick grumbled. "Is Harry okay?"
"Homicidally furious but still breathing!" he replied, shaking flattened bullets out from between his body armour and his shirt and opening fire. He'd taped his wand to the fore-end of his CZ23, a Czechoslovakian attempt at something to match the Uzi that had never really caught on. He hurled magical lightning from it every few seconds as an alternative to bullets. Must remember that trick, Rick concluded, dropping the now-empty Uzi and drawing the Desert Eagle. Wand in his left hand, pistol in his right, he cut loose with hexes and hollowpoints at the crowd of Death Eaters. Several went down, but there were just too many...
"This is Malfoy!" Draco yelled into the fireplace. "We have a massive Death Eater attack underway. There have to be close to a hundred of them out there! We need backup!"
"I'm out!" Hermione yelled, throwing aside her shotgun and drawing her sidearm. "We can't hold them for much longer!"
"Hear that? We'll be down to our wands pretty soon, and wands against machine guns don't work!" Draco shouted above the roar of gunfire.
"Grenade!" somebody yelled. They dived behind whatever furniture came to hand, wincing as the shrapnel destroyed fixtures and fittings. "That was my living room, you bastards!" Molly yelled, once she was certain that nobody had been injured badly.
A depressingly familiar voice bellowed at them through a perfectly ordinary loudhailer. "Throw out the guns and leave the building with your hands in the air and we'll only beat you up a little bit!"
"Sod off and die, ratface!" Harry suggested cheerfully. "You couldn't even be a successful spy; what makes you a worthy Dark Lord?"
"Oh, you haven't a clue, lad!" Pettigrew laughed. "Your father was supposed to win, and I was going to get Riddle's job!"
The Order of the Basilisk exchanged looks. "Talk about ten steps forward and nine steps back," Luna remarked bitterly.
"You were even more helpful than I realised until recently!" Pettigrew continued. "I didn't know about the Horcruxes then, and if you hadn't blown them up then he'd still be with us!"
"Did we do that?" hissed Cho.
"I did," Rick replied. "Snape and Flitwick took me back with them from the original timeline to plant explosives. Draco, do you remember the front company belonging to your father that got blown up?"
"Yeah, curry powder warehouse or something; warehouse manager was one of Voldemort's inner circle, working under cover." (Author's Note: This might explain his adherence to the 'abuse subordinates in front of entire warehouse when they make mistakes' school of leadership. No, I'm not bitter at all!) Light dawned. "The Horcruxes were in there?"
"Got it in one. I broke in the night before, planted the charges and rendezvoused with Snape outside Godric's Hollow. Just as well none of you noticed, but I was hiding behind that blue Allegro with the detonator. Yes, I know it sounds daft, but I swear it's true."
"That should have made the universe disappear up its own back passage, surely," Fran retorted.
"Maybe. All I know is that in the timeline I came from, you, Hermione and Lucy were murdered by Death Eaters. We'd lost too damned many people by then. Sirius, Dumbledore, Narcissa; she died because Draco was supposed to get himself killed just to piss off Lucius, but Snape did it for him to maintain his cover and save Blondie's arse. It was nothing but a decade-long nightmare, and I'm sorry I can still remember it."
At this point, things outside began to get interesting. Some fifty Special Tactical Response Aurors apparated with a cacophony that was exceeded only by the roar of gunfire as they laid into the Death Eaters. Pettigrew swore inventively and let fly Killing Curses and 9mm rounds with equal enthusiasm. The Order rallied. With the last of their ammunition, they laid down a fusillade of suppressing fire. Something huge and wolflike dived through a window, carrying a large sack in its jaws. "Nice one, Siri... What the-?" Remus Lupin returned to his human form. "That's not normal, is it? I thought that only happened once a month? And that Snape cured you?" Rick said slowly, thinking back to a certain Yule ball the year before they went back in time with Snape; Remus Lupin appearing beneath the full moon with his wife, apparently cured by none other than Severus Snape himself, though that hadn't been half as shocking as Snape eventually getting off with a graduating student... (See Kittenmommy's 'The Lady And The Snape', a sequel to her story in my Favourites. Apart from explaining that last sentence, it's a cracker of a story!)
"I know; we only found out a bit later. I'm still technically a werewolf, but I can change whenever I feel the urge and keep all my faculties. Better than a complete cure if you ask me! Now can somebody dig my clothes out of that bag? There's more ammunition in there for you as well."
They reloaded their depleted weapons and made ready to charge. But there was nobody left to charge at.
"They bugged out," Remus grumbled. "Typical. Get a trace running on those apparations!" he ordered somebody outside.
Molly had emerged from the cellar, face matching her hair. "Any of those bastards left alive?" she demanded.
"They all legged it. We're going after them as soon as they're traced. There is going to be hell to pay!" Ron said vehemently. "One of those buggers took a Kalashnikov to my Cannons posters!" They refrained from remarking upon Chudley LQC's playing skills because Ron was A: the team's head coach and B: holding a loaded and cocked AK-74.
"Got a fix!" one of the Aurors yelled. "And surprise surprise, it's Malfoy Manor!"
"Figures," Draco said coldly. "Let's move out, people!"
"Why's he giving all the sodding orders?" muttered Lavender.
"Because he's a Lieutenant and he was commissioned six months ahead of all of us," Harry replied. "Now let's go!"
At chez Malfoy, Peter was helping himself to some of Lucius's best brandy and trying to look on the bright side. There was no Lucius. There was no Bellatrix. There was no Lucius and Bellatrix to make Narcissa fume like only a Veela can, though Merlin knew she ought to have been relieved that he'd found someone to deal with some of his more unconventional preferences.
Unfortunately, Narcissa herself hadn't been at all glad to see them, to the point of obliging Gregory Goyle so whack her upside the head and leave her firmly restrained in the cellar where Lucius and Bellatrix spent their free time. Pettigrew tried hard to stop thinking about that; Bella in PVC was a sight he felt he could have done without. He swirled the brandy in the expensive balloon glass, savouring the aroma.
Three floors below him, the Order of the Basilisk were making their way through a small tunnel leading from the nearby main road. Just next to a bus stop, in fact. "Great-Grandfather had it put in for the staff, but I used to use it as well," Draco explained. "Took me ages to master the Disillusionment Charm, and broomstick travel and pissing rain don't mix, so I used the bus when I wanted to go to McDonald's or whatever."
"Naughty little pureblood," Rick said with a grin. "Any security down here?"
"Just the lock, but it's spellproof."
"Greville and Nuggan?"
"Offhand, I can't remember. I do however remember the old combination," Draco pointed out helpfully. "And if Father bothered to change it the door isn't all that thick anyhow."
He unlocked the inner door without difficulty, and Cho took point and swept the room. "Shen sheng de gao wan! Did it look like this in here when you used to use this passageway, Draco? Oh, go se... All of you stay out there for a few minutes, okay? And shut the door; nobody else needs to see this!"
"Mmmmph!" Narcissa agreed, straining against the ball gag and wrist and ankle restraints that bound her to some sort of examination table. Nobody, Cho felt, should be made to see their mother under such circumstances. Especially not with their spouse, cousins and best friends present. She managed to release Draco's unharmed but furious mother after considerable effort and several further Chinese oaths, and let the others in.
"Sorry guys; it would have been embarrassing otherwise."
"What would- Oh, 'kinnel!" Harry exclaimed. "I mean, I sort of figured that Malfoy Manor would have a dungeon of some sort, but I'd seen it as being a bit more... traditional? Functional? And without mirrors, dildos and strange leather objects?"
Draco buried his face in his hands. "No. Please, God, no. This isn't fair. Dad, you bastard. I really, really did not want anybody to see this aspect of- Oh, Merlin! Mum! Are you okay?"
"I'm fine; they just put me in that thing to keep me out of the way. So, this is the famous Order of the Basilisk, then?"
"Yes. I hope you'll forgive me if we leave proper introductions for the time being? We're a bit pressed for time." Safety catches were released and rounds chambered. (Believe it or not, leaving the cocking of weapons to the last minute isn't just done for effect in films; cocked guns have a habit of going off in transit if mishandled.) "Okay, people, let's go hand Ratface and friends their arses!"
"Anybody got a spare gun?" Narcissa chipped in. "I'd like very serious words with Peter!" Draco graciously handed over one of his, along with half his ammunition and a brief explanation of the cocking handle and magazine release. "Right, then. Can anybody think of a good battle cry?"
"How does 'Yeeeaaaarrrrgh!' grab you?" Fran suggested.
"Works for me."
Yelling this rather unimaginative battle cry and waving their assorted weapons, they charged out of the dungeon like the hounds of hell. At roughly the same moment, the two hundred Aurors surrounding the building decided to make their move. They had lost communication with the Order due to the powerful background magic level interfering with their radios, and had to hope for the best. They also didn't know that there was a much larger number of extremely well-armed and deeply pissed-off Death Eaters in the building than had been at the Burrow. This was, inevitably, going to be messy.
Peter heard the cacophony of hexes, Unforgivables and various calibres of gunfire and sighed. Pausing only to toss back the brandy he picked up his wand and Glock and headed downstairs to find out just what the hell was going on this time.
"Hey, Scabbers! Remember me?" Ron yelled, rounding a corner and letting fly. Peter dived for cover and hurled his best hex along with a fast double-tap. The brandy had not done his aim any favours, and the hex merely set fire to some curtains behind the oncoming Order members. The bullets shattered the associated window. A more or less solid wall of lead was rushing past the pillar he was hiding behind, and Peter began to wonder if being Ron Weasley's pet rat had been such a bad career after all. It would have involved a sight less pain and suffering, apart from that bloody great cat. He had raped Mrs Norris though...
The Aurors had succeeded in breaking down the main door, but the Death Eaters were fighting a determined rearguard action up the main staircase. Several had barricaded themselves into the banqueting hall but were being evicted with the assistance of tear gas. Additional Aurors were leaping through skylights from brooms, clearing the way with stun grenades. Several of these had caused fires to break out in the carpets, and since Lucius had steadfastly resisted the provision of fire extinguishers the whole place was in danger of going up. The house elves were as fiercely loyal to the Malfoy family as only house elves can be, but had mutually concluded that doing anything about running gun battles in a burning building lay outside the scope of their duties (not that they really had a procedure for this kind of thing) and made good their retreat to watch the show.
Peter wasn't aware of the details; he just knew that a dozen-odd very angry friends and associates of the Golden Trio were shooting at him. "Oh, sod this," he said to himself, and disapparated.
On the ground floor, Remus and Sirius were leading a squad of Aurors in a charge up the main stairs. "Baxter, Edwards, go with Captain Lupin and clear out those servant quarters," Sirius ordered. "Everybody else, follow me!" Before anybody could comply, a huge greyish werewolf appeared before them. It was not in the very best of moods.
"Greyback," Remus snarled. "Out of the way, you lot. The two of us have some unfinished business!" He leapt, transforming as he did so. Sirius groaned, watching in fascinated horror as they fell on each other. Remus had Greyback in a throat lock, and the other werewolf was returning to human form to get some purchase. Remus took a cue from his opponent, returned to his normal shape and kneed the other man sharply in the groin, then jumped up out of the way. Sirius took advantage of the moment to shoot Greyback in the chest with the bullet he'd slipped into the chamber of his sidearm, a hollowpoint full of silver nitrate; rumour had it that R&D came up with the idea after watching Underworld on DVD. Greyback expired messily.
"Thanks. Okay, where were we?"
On the ground floor, the Order were advancing against stiff resistance. "How are we doing for ammunition?" Rick called, firing a blinding hex down the corridor and following it up with a three-round burst from the Uzi.
"About half our clips!" Harry yelled back, doing the thing with the lightning again. There was a tremendous crash behind them as part of the first floor collapsed. he corridors were filling rapidly with smoke, and the heat was becoming dangerously intense. "I think it's about time we got the hell out of here!"
"Yeah, and then right after that we're calling the fire brigade!" Draco added. "This is my sodding inheritance burning to the ground!"
"You know, living with us and the Weasleys hasn't changed you all the way into a human being!" Fran remarked caustically.
"Spend a few years living under the same roof as Lucius 'It Is My Divine Right To Be An Arrogant Bastard' Malfoy and see how much sentimental value the place has!" Narcissa suggested.
"Fair one. Sorry, Draco!"
The Death Eaters were already getting out as fast as they could, so the Order (plus guest) decided to concentrate on running. "And in case anybody's wondering," Draco said in a caricature of the arrogant tone he'd shed around sixth year that suffered for shortage of breath, "I never considered my right to be an arrogant bastard divine, merely inherited."
"And in all fairness, his father could probably have produced the paperwork!" Narcissa added. Rick wondered if the others were as startled as himself to find that the woman who married Lucius Malfoy was actually an immensely likeable woman with a wicked sense of humour. How the hell did she fetch up hitched to the bastard? Some kind of arranged marriage thing, I suppose.
By the time they made it out of the building and came across two smoke-blackened but madly grinning ex-Marauders, the fire engines were already pulling up. "How bad was it?" Rick asked them.
"For the Death Eaters? Very!" Sirius replied. "We killed or captured nearly a hundred and fifty by out best guess. Haven't heard the final casualty figures yet but nobody on my team had a scratch. We've set the Heir of Voldemort back by about fifty years!"
"Shame Pettigrew got away, though. I had a nice bright future planned for him in a behavioural research lab Amanda's cousin works in," Remus added.
"The hell with him; it'll be a long time before he can show his face in the UK again," Draco snorted. "Everything alright at the Burrow?"
"Molly's having one of her little moments, but otherwise it's business as usual. Now, do you think we could have a little explanation for this Horcrux business...?"
Over the course of two hours, they got their explanation. Rick briefed them with every detail he could recall of the original timeline. "So the next thing I know, I come around in St Mungo's aching everywhere and two and a half different past lives," he concluded. "Personally, I'd rather ditch the old ones. It worked out the way Snape and Flitwick planned it. How are the Ministry likely to react?"
"They'll screw the lid down on it for he next thousand years," Sirius replied. "I'll see to that. Can we expect cooperation from the media?"
"I can promise it," Luna replied. "And I'll get Dad to have a little chat to Rita."
"Good. Now let's finish mopping up and find the nearest really good pub!"
Malfoy Manor was totally destroyed, to nobody's real sorrow. The land was sold for redevelopment, and eventually passed into the hands of Weasley Brothers, toy, game and practical joke makers. Narcissa and Draco split the proceeds and the insurance, and a surprisingly large donation reached the National House Elf Benevolent Fund that Hermione, Dobby and Winky set up to help enforce regulated working conditions for house-elves.
The Order of the Basilisk now numbers three commissioned Aurors, four league Quidditch players, two Hogwarts teacher and one incredibly rich magazine owner. They average five children each; prolonged exposure to the Weasleys has clearly rubbed off.
The Ministry of Magic did indeed clamp down heavily on any publicity of the odder aspects of the affair. Severus Snape was awarded a bar to the Order of Merlin he won for his lycanthropy cure. He continues to teach Potions at Hogwarts in his own inimitable way, while his wife Cynthia heads a potions research team for the Department of Mysteries. They are godparents to Remus and Amanda Lupin's daughter Juliet, who is the first natural-born werewolf to attend Hogwarts (The genetic effects upon Remus are such that to conceive successfully he was obliged to bite his own wife, after she threatened him with bodily injury if he didn't!), and while she will not be able to take Snape's cure until her adolescence she has responded well to conventional Wolfsbane treatment.
Professor Flitwick also received an Order of Merlin, First Class, and has since retired to the South of France.
Peter Pettigrew, predictably, did not go quietly into the night. He was successful in escaping to the United States, where he gained employment as a sales agent for a major Colombian narcotics cartel. After a pitched gun battle in which he is known to have killed two NYPD officers, he fled to Colombia before being intercepted by the Royal Marine boarding party aboard the destroyer HMS Dauntless off the Cayman Islands. The Brazilian-registered freighter he was travelling aboard was bound for the Mediterranean with nearly fifty metric tonnes of cocaine onboard. He is now serving three concurrent life sentences for multiple homicides and drug offences.
Luna never did find a Crumple-Horned Snorcack.