(A/N: Sorry for the screwup, everyone. This sitehas a new story upload interface that I'm not used to yet. I haven't been able to add the chapter title to the actual chapter - it's two seperate steps.)
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1
12 – Classes, Week Twelve, Second Year
Monday, November 15, 1999:
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 07:12
"Minister, were you in Diagon Alley this past weekend?"
Cornelius Fudge looked up from the report he was reading, "Hmm? No, Edward, I wasn't. Why do you ask?"
"A rather radical document has been circulating, a petition, and it doesn't look good," Edward admitted.
"Pish-tosh, Edward! What can a petition do to us? How many werewolves have you managed to bag?"
"Thirty-seven, so far. We really ought to consider feeding them, you know," Hansen said.
"Why?" Umbridge asked. "Hunger just makes them weaker and easier to handle. Besides, we plan to kill them off next Tuesday, why bother?"
"Still, the guards don't know that, do they?" Percy asked. "If for no other reasons than to keep up appearances with them, perhaps we ought to provide the same rations we give to the Azkaban inmates." He glanced over at Umbridge, asking, "How are you coming with emptying out Azkaban?"
"If they're already insane, we've simply been chaining them on the tenth level and letting them drown," she smiled happily. "Unfortunately, there are only a dozen cells there, and so it's not going as smoothly as I would have liked. The warden is also complaining about the corpses taking up space in his graveyard, he'd rather portkey them back to their families." Umbridge frowned, "He's too soft, Cornelius, he's not fully on board. I want to replace him with one of us, someone like Edward or Weasley here."
"He's been with us a long time," Fudge mused. "Weasley, go out there, take a good thorough look about. Be back at the beginning of next month, if you feel the need to dismiss any of the staff, feel free. Oh, and Dolores, I think we'd best throw a bit of food to our captive werewolves. Weasley's right; must keep up appearances."
"Right-o, of course, the food doesn't have to be edible, now does it?" Dolores asked with a smirk.
Monday, November 15, 1999:
Hogwarts, DADA classroom: 17:00
The bell rang for the end of class, Professor Harry calling out, "I want at least two pages on household spells and their defensive uses for next week."
Mattie paused, asking, "Professor? Do you know if Mr. Lupin's gotten his new robes?"
Harry sighed, "No, he insists the ones he has are fine, he doesn't need new ones."
Mattie snorted, "Well, I won't have him with me at that press conference in patched robes. He has new robes, fashionable new robes, mind you, or he's off the platform. You did give him my letter?"
"I did, and for what it's worth, both Ginny and I agree with you. He must be presentable if he wants to make his case for werewolf rights, and looking like someone's dotty uncle won't do it," Harry snorted, "He's getting a 'I am not a charity case' attitude."
"Great, another one," Mattie muttered, "Fine, then tell him it's a loan from me, and he can work it off by tutoring me in, um… something." Mattie said. "Wizarding history and culture, maybe. However, he's got to pass Ginny's inspection or the deal's off."
"No arguments from me," Harry said.
Monday, November 15, 1999:
Hogwarts, staff quarters, Potter flat: 19:48
Harry looked up as his wife opened the door to their flat, throwing her icy, wet scarf and outer robes over a chair. Dobby materialized with a 'pop', taking the wet clothing and the boots she pulled off. Standing, she folded herself into his embrace, murmuring, "I could stay like this forever."
"So could I," he agreed. He nuzzled her hair, then said, "Some hot tea, and proper food. Percy sent a letter; it's on the table waiting for you. I sent Hermes back to Penny."
"Oh, let me see!" she said, heading for the table. He caught her, "Food and tea, and a nice hot bath first. I don't want you coming down with the sniffles," turning her about, he ordered, "March, young lady!"
"Only if you join me," she pouted. "I need someone to scrub my back…"
"My, my, my," Ginny said, waving the decrypted document in the air to dry the ink. "Fudge plans a public execution of the three youngest werewolves just after the rise of the full moon next week, to 'demonstrate the threat they pose to the wizarding population'. The fact that they'll be chained in cages in Diagon Alley apparently doesn't worry him. The others will simply be shipped off to Azkaban the next day or so, charged and convicted of being a 'public menace'. They will, of course, be too weak after their change to offer much resistance."
Harry rested his head on hers, "Anything else, love?"
"Yes, he attaches a list of captured wolves, and their cell locations." She passed him a sheet of parchment, looking up at him, "How are you going to get them out; and I want to come!"
"You know you can't after what Poppy told us," he said, glancing at her belly. "Besides, you're our spymaster, if Fudge was to capture you, the whole network would be blown." He sighed, "Wayne and the other students want to rush off and rescue their friends, and I really can't blame them."
"It's understandable, and from what little information Severus has let slip, she could be useful," Ginny mused, "If only she weren't so bloody young!" An impish look came in her eye; she looked up at her husband, "Fancy a holiday in the States? I'd love to see what kind of town produces someone like Mattie Wayne."
Tuesday, November 16, 1999:
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 07:24
The Headmaster had just set his teacup down, and had his fork halfway to his mouth, when Abby Michaels stood up from the Hufflepuff table, and called, "Headmaster, what are you doing to rescue Amy and Jeremy?"
Albus paused, saying, "Plans are in the works, Miss Michaels. Do not worry."
"They're our friends!" someone shouted from Ravenclaw. "They could be dead by now!"
Harry Potter cleared his throat, carefully saying, "According to our reports, there have been several dozen kidnapped by the Ministry, including Amy and Jeremy. We cannot in good conscious rescue two and leave the rest to feel the displeasure of the Fudge ministry. In addition, the full moon is next Tuesday, the 23rd. We do not have adequate supplies of wolfsbane potion for all of them, or a secure place to house them. We must therefore, reluctantly wait until after next Tuesday."
"There is also the transport problem to resolve," Minerva said. "With the floo network shut down, we must create several dozen portkeys. We cannot assume they can apparate, and as the upper years know, distance matters in creating a portkey. Creating one from here to North America takes far more of a wizard's magical energy than from here to Aberdeen or London. Now multiply that by fifty or so."
Tuesday, November 16, 1999:
Hogwarts, Room of Requirement (DA meeting): 19:36
Harry Potter kept an eye on his wife across the room as he intercepted the Cortez twins. "Um, can I ask the two of you something, strictly unofficially?"
"Sure, professor, what?" one of the twins asked.
"Ginny is thinking of taking a holiday in the States," and their faces split into grins, "Specifically, Gotham City."
The twins' paled, one of them saying carefully, "With all due respect to you and your wife, sir, are you insane?"
"We like Mattie, she's a fun person, and her family is great, but I wouldn't go back to that town without the 82nd Airborne!" the other twin said quietly as she kept an eye on Mattie.
Her sister nodded, "Sir, did you remember that little thing Mattie's aunt Lois wrote around Christmas?" Harry nodded, "She was understating things a bit, sir. How good are you and your wife at self defense? Without magic, without a wand?"
"We could be better," Harry admitted.
"We're New Yorkers. That's a tough town, we each have a green belt in Tai-Kwon-Do," one of the twins said. "It's nothing close to Gotham. During that parking garage attack, we had trouble subduing one gang member who wasn't much older than we were."
"Mattie, on the other hand, took out four in a few seconds without a hair out of place. Her aunt Sheila took out nine without any problems in the same amount of time, also without breaking a sweat," her sister added.
"Talk Ginny out of the idea," they advised. "If she's determined to go, let the Waynes know you're coming. Mattie has six black belts, she needs it for that town." She grinned, saying, "See if you can talk her into Disney World or Key West instead."
The twins giggled, "A witch and a wizard going to the Magic Kingdom sounds about right."
Thursday, November 18, 1999:
London, DMLE holding cells: 07:24
"'Ere you go, you filthy buggers. Eat hearty, it's go'tae have to last ye!" the guard said as he tossed a scrap of bread and a small tin of water at Amy.
"How… how about a warming spell?" she asked through chattering teeth.
"A spell? And have you escape and rip me bleedin' throat out?"
"The thought had crossed my mind," Jeremy said.
"You're still too cocky, nuffink for you, lad," the guard said, proceeding down the dimly lit corridor. Behind him, Amy was trying to get the tin open. Chained with her wrists near her ankles, she could hear something sloshing inside, but the cap was on too tight for even her enhanced werewolf strength.
"What's the bread like?" Jeremy asked.
"I can't reach it, but it looks… moldy and there are… eww, things moving in it!" she shuddered, adding, "I can't get the lid off this tin. I'll try tossing it to you." She worked forward, her neck chain forcing her to lean backward. Unfortunately, the tin bounced off Jeremy's cell door, landing in the middle of the narrow corridor.
Friday, November 19, 1999:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Ballycastle press conference: 16:24
"…That concludes the opening remarks," Mattie said. "Are there any questions?" Flashbulbs popped as reporters shouted, and Mattie added with a grin, "That was a rhetorical question." She pointed, "Yes, your name and paper, please?"
"Ali Pessain, Quidditch Daily News. You're the youngest team owner in history, how does that make you feel?"
"Nervous, I hope I don't screw up too much," the reporters laughed, and Mattie continued with a grin, "We've got great fans, and a good financial and legal team. We've got great players and coaches, and a good partnership with Hogwarts, who were gracious enough to let us rent their stadium."
"You're still in school, does that create problems?"
"You are?"
"Mark Miller, Daily Prophet."
"It's created a few minor problems, Mr. Miller, but we try to work around them. For instance, right now I'm skiving off a class with Professor Flitwick." She grinned as people laughed. "I've got a good excuse; the Headmaster's sitting right behind me. Seriously, I try to handle Ballycastle business after class, at which time the Headmaster transforms into Mr. Dumbledore," she shrugged, "Keeps things neater. Next question…"
The doors banged open, Minister Fudge puffing his way to the head table. Mattie grinned slightly, as the politician took center stage, smiling at the press. She said, "How nice to have you stop by, Minister Fudge, taking time out of your busy day. What can we do for you?"
"I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd stop by…"
Mattie clapped her hands and smiled, the smile not reaching her eyes, "All the way from London for our inaugural game against the Magpies! I didn't know you were such a Quidditch fan, especially with the floo network still not working." She tisked, "That can't be good for the economy, especially this close to Christmas. Have you found out what's wrong with the network, Minister?"
Fudge was glancing about, and ignored the question, something the press took note of. He said, "You've got dangerous creatures here!"
Mattie looked confused, "Who, the press?" They chuckled, and she continued, "You feed them and they're fine for a while, Minister. You're perfectly safe."
"No, THEM! Sitting back there!"
"Who, Minister, my roommate Sprink? She's not dangerous unless we get into a Quidditch argument," Mattie sighed, adding to the press, "Unfortunately, she's a Magpies fan. Still, I thought she'd enjoy this, early Christmas present to see a game from the top box."
"No, the two werewolves!" Fudge blustered.
"Where? I don't see any dangerous creatures, Minister," Mattie said. "I see my roommate Sprink (who looked like everyone's younger sister), and her uncle Remus. Nope, no dangerous creatures here."
The press murmured a bit, watching the drama playing out. Fudge stalked back, and grabbed Remus by the back of his neck, saying, "This is a dangerous werewolf, and…"
Mattie had her wand out, "I will thank you, Minister, to release my friend and employee." Fudge blinked, and she raised her wand, "Minister, what is your intention?"
"I'm going to have these two arrested and…"
"Arrested? On what charges? Where is the warrant, Minister?" Mattie raised her wand, adding, "I'm waiting, Minister, for you to release Mr. Lupin and to answer the questions. What are the charges against Mr. Lupin and Miss Tonks?"
"They're dangerous werewolves!"
"Their medical condition means they give up their civil rights?" Mattie aimed her wand, adding, "In case you've forgotten, Minister, I'm an American, and we get upset about governments trampling on people's rights. We've fought two wars with England over that, in 1776 and 1812. Now, Minister, you can either produce an arrest warrant with criminal charges from the Queen's Bench, or you can release your grip on Mr. Lupin. Which will it be?"
Saturday, November 20, 1999:
Hogwarts, Werewolf cells: 13:36
"And just WHAT is going on here?" Professor Snape asked.
"Our rescue effort, sir," Karen Bundy replied calmly. "Since the Headmaster seems reluctant, we thought we'd take matters into our own hands."
"And how do you expect to find them?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"I've visited the Ministry several times, Professor." Abby Michaels said. "We're making portkeys to the Atrium, and from there we'll use Morton's eyes to find our mates."
"What do you intend to do with them once you have them?" Severus asked. "Take them on a sightseeing trolley?"
"Two parts to that," Frank MacDonald said cheerfully. "First part is a one-way portkey to the cell here. The second is a sleepy gas, as this cell isn't big enough for fifty or so active werewolves." He frowned, adding, "It would be better if we knew exactly how many wolves there were."
"Thirty-seven as of Monday's reports," Professor Harry said. He glanced at his colleagues, "Have you tested the gas, and what about the guards?"
"The sleepy gas is where I come in," Sprink said. "Remus an' I tested it Wednesday afternoon, with Karen and Mattie as a control group."
"They yawned, transformed, and curled up to sleep nice as you please," Mattie said. "I had to use ice water to get her up Thursday morning, though. We were late for Herbology." She frowned, concentrating on the golden galleon on the chain, and whispered, "'Portus Hogwarts Carcerous'."
"Th' gas has a strong anesthetic and sopoforic component to it," Frank explained as Arthur transformed a gold galleon into a chain, passing it to Andrew Kirke, who attached it to another galleon. "Any non-werewolf that breathes it wants to sleep, but a bubble-head charm takes care o' that. Th' wolves don't feel the usual pain when they transform, and it's a fast-actin' sopoforic. They're asleep within twenty or thirty seconds."
"Most interesting, Mr. MacDonald. Ten points to Slytherin," Professor Snape said, "I would like to study this potion. Come with me, Miss Tonks, if you will accompany us?"
"Certainly, sir, but I'll decline the points. This is for everyone, not just Slytherin," Frank said as he stood up, Sprink trailing behind them.
"Have you tested your portkeys, and why is Miss Wayne making them?" Minerva asked. "That spell is in the restricted section, how did you get access?"
"Ask me no questions, Professor, and I'll tell you no lies," Abby misquoted with a grin. "Wayne's making them because she's a powerful witch, and we've tested it from Hagrid's pumpkin patch to this room here." She plucked one out of the box, and offered it to Minerva. "Feel free to test if you want, Professor."
Professor Harry said, "Budge over, Wayne, let me help." He sat next to her, tailor-fashion, as Minerva ran her wand over the portkey-medallion. He asked, "What about the guards?"
"I'm prepared for the guards," Mattie said. "It would help to know how many there are, though, on each shift."
"Six during the day, four at night," Harry said. "How do you plan to take them out?"
"No magic, that can be traced by the Ministry;" Mattie said with a grin. "I have my ways. Martial arts isn't just kicks, punches and throws," Mattie said. "It's also learning the body's strengths and weaknesses. A nerve touch renders the subject unconscious." She shrugged, adding, "Third-degree Formosan karate technique."
"One moment, Miss Tonks," the Potion Master said as he unlocked the door to his private laboratory. "I have moon dust in here; I do not know how you will react to it."
She paused, as Frank peeked around the door. "Where did you get that, sir?"
"Never you mind," Severus said as he opened his safe. "I have several kilograms of it." He glared at the seventh-year, "Do not press the issue."
"What would it do, Professor? Cure me?" Sprink called from outside the door.
"Or render you permanently feral," the Potion Master replied. "At this point, I do not know which. That is the reason for the testing which was interrupted last month. It can possibly be resumed after the holidays, with a larger group this time. I will request the Headmaster enlarge those cells." He locked the safe, calling, "You may enter, Miss Tonks. Mr. MacDonald, show me your potion notes."