Chapter 11. Saturday, November 30, 1996

The Dark Lord's plan to capture Harry was actually quite clever. As the muggle Isaac Newton put it, 'For every action, there is an equal and opposite re-action'. Accordingly, for every strength and virtue a human being has, there is a corresponding weakness which can be exploited. The Dark Lord had come to the conclusion that the best way to attack Harry would be to exploit those very same traits which Dumbledore had spent the past five years so carefully cultivating in the boy. Harry had already demonstrated his weakness in that regard, several times. Most notably when he came charging rashly in to the Department of Mysteries when he believed that Sirius Black was in danger, never thinking that it could be a trap.

Those who do not learn from history are condemned to repeat it. Another old Muggle adage. And Harry Potter, like the great majority of English wizards, had shown in his short life a stubborn refusal to learn from History, even from his own mistakes. Voldemort had been rather delighted six months before to hear from a justifiably peeved Severus Snape that Harry Potter blamed the incidents at the Department of Mysteries not on his own rashness and stupidity, but on Snape himself. It indicated on the part of the so-called 'Chosen one' a refusal not only to learn from his own mistakes, but an unpleasant tendency to believe beautiful lies rather than an ugly truth.

The fact that the Dark Lord himself was much farther gone than Harry Potter when it came to a refusal to deal with objective reality was, of course, not something that occured to him.

But Voldemort's personal flaws were irrelevent at the moment. In the end, of course, he would pay Hell's own price for them. Despite the contentions of countless tyrants throughout the ages, of which the Dark Lord was only the latest in a very long and sordid line, reality cannot be altered by royal edict, brute force, or a democratic vote. Nor was it even to be altered by magic. Regardless of the opinions of Voldemort and many wizards on the topic, magic was in no way an 'unnatural' or 'supernatural' force, simply because most human beings were unable to use it, any more than ultraviolet light was 'un-natural' because most living creatures were unable to see it. Any force which exists in the universe is, by definition, natural, regardless of how many entities were unable to perceive and understand it. The only 'un-natural' force would be one which did not exist.

However, despite Voldemort's numerous flaws, Harry Potter was equally flawed, albeit in a different fashion. Voldemort's particular set of weaknesses in no way prevented him from exploiting those that Harry possessed. The most significant one of which was that Harry, as Hermoine had once wisely noted 'had a saving people thing'. When he saw that someone he cared for was in danger, his automatic reflex was to go charging bravely and foolishly in, without spending so much as a second thinking the situation through, to determine such things as whether the situation was actually as it appeared, or whether or not it might not be wise to get some help from older and more powerful wizards to deal with the problem. Such a course of action did not appeal to him. Not only did he have a 'saving people thing', but despite his numerous protests to the contrary, he did want glory for himself. He had displayed both personal traits consistently ever since he had entered Hogwarts at 11 years of age, and despite the fact that he had matured five years physically since then, he had matured not one whit mentally. Dumbledore attributed this to his innocence, and it indeed was that. Unfortunately in a dispassionate universe, innocence does not often count for much compared to strength and cunning when it comes to survival.

It was exploiting Harry Potter's innocence and predeliction for saving people that Voldemort was counting on. He had sent one of his Death Eaters out to purchase polyjuice potion from Borgin and Burkes. The Death Eater had not been able to obtain as much as the Dark Lord commanded him to. It seemed that there was another wizard buying large quantities of polyjuice potion over the past few months. The Dark Lord did not care about this excuse. Nor, foolishly, did he care about whom this other wizard might be, or what he might want so much polyjuice potion for. He was interested only in those things that increased his personal power. He crucio'ed the unfortunate Death Eater for several seconds on general principles, and then contented himself with the few quarts that the lackey had been able to get. It was enough for the plan he had in mind.

He put his plan into motion on the next weekend, when the older students from Hogwarts went to Hogsmeade Village. The Dark Lord had many students loyal to him in Hogwarts, even in Gryffindor house, and from these had managed to obtain several hairs and skin flakes belonging to Harry Potter's two best friends, Ron and Hermione. It wasn't difficult at all, unlike the task he had set for Draco. They simply had to cast a simply 'accio' spell at the beds those two slept in, when no-one else was present. The human body constantly shed hairs and bits of skin every hour of the day, and given that human beings spent 1/3 of their time sleeping, there were plenty of them to be found in bed linens, other than those freshly changed.

The Dark Lord regarded the two parchment envelopes that the hairs and dusty-appearing bits of skin flakes were in. It was far less than an ounce of material taken from each of Harry's friends, yet it felt oddly heavy in his hand. From such tiny things, the destiny of the entire world could easily be shaped, if things went as he intended.

He summoned several of his Death eaters before him. They all had their appointed tasks, which he had reviewed with them several times, until he was certain they understood what was required of them. Two of them were to use the polyjuice potion to disguise themselves as First Year Hogwart's students. They would arrange a distraction, to seperate Ron and Hermoine from the witless Harry Potter. Then, once the real Ron and Hermoine were off on a wild goose chase, two others, disguised as Ron and Hermoine would act as bait, luring the young Gryffindor fool into a trap.

Taking their vials of polyjuice potion, they and several other Death Eaters apparated to the outskirts of Hogsmeade Village. They took a sip from their vials, waited for a few moments through the painful transformation, then headed onto the main street where the shops were, checking their watches. Timing was important in this, it would not do for one of them to make his move in this game before the previous move had been finished.

Scarcely fifteen minutes later, Ronald Weasley was seized by the ear by his brother, George, as he was trying to finish up the last of his butterbeer. It was a gloomy day to visit Hogsmeade, with thick black clouds overhead, and it was actually cheerier in the candle-lit tavern than it was outside. Or at least it had been cheerier before his brother had come bursting in to so cruelly assualt him.

"Hey!" he protested, as the remains of his drink spilled onto his own lap.

"Hey yourself." George growled. "What's the big idea, paying that firstie to do that, Ron?"

"Paying who to do what? What are you talking about, George?"

"This firstie just came into my shop and set off a whole crate of fireworks by tossing an exploding crystal into it!" George was livid, thinking of the damages and lost profits to his Joke Shop. "The place is a damned mess. He said you gave him the Crystal and paid him a Galleon to do it, mate. So what's the big idea, brother? You jealous of the money me and Fred are making or something?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, George!" Ron protested. "I didn't pay anyone to do anything to your shop. I've just been enjoying a butterbeer with Harry and Hermione here."

"Yah, likely story." George twisted his ear, making Harry giggle under his breath as he watched it. He could tell that George was not really all that angry. The Weasleys had a broad sense of humor, and this was no more destructive than some of the pranks Fred and George had pulled at Hogwarts last year. "You come along with me, mate. You're going to help clean up the shop, and then we'll talk about how you're going to pay for the damaged goods."

"Better go with him, Ron." Hermione said, hiding a smile behind her own butterbeer. "I think he's serious."

"Yah, some friend you are."

Half pulled by his ear, Ron went stumbling after George. By the time they got to the joke shop, the supposed first year who had caused all the trouble had rendered Fred unconscious with a spell no first year ever could have known, and run off. It had not been a real first year student, of course, but the first of Lord Voldemort's polyjuiced Death Eaters. Ron and George spent several minutes trying to revive Fred, and then went to fetch a mediwizard. By the time they thought to go and tell Harry what had happened, it would be far too late.

Meanwhile Harry and Hermione were laughing it up over fresh mugs of Butterbeer.

"Poor Ron." said Harry. "With his measley allowance, he's going to be years, paying for the wrecked stuff in that shop."

"Ah, I don't think Fred and George will be that hard on him." Hermione said. "They'll probably just make him clean it up and hand over his allowance for a few weeks, then call it even. The publicity they'll get from the hubbub will mean more than enough new sales to make up for whatever was wrecked.

Just then one of the fireworks from the shop came floating by the window. It was made of white and pink sparkles, and took the shape of a woman in a muggle bikini, who waved and winked at them as the firework floated lazily past. Hermoine nearly choked on her butterbeer as she looked at it, and Harry's eyes opened wide.

"Looks like Fred and George are expanding their product line." He said after a moment. "I wonder who they're selling that sort of thing to?"

"Probably idiots in Slytherin." Hermione sniffed. "Rich idiots like Malfoy who can't attract a real girlfriend."

Harry was about to add a further derogatory comment about Malfoy when another first year student came rushing into the shop. She ran up to Hermione, huffing and puffing. The head girl recognized her as being one of the new Gryffindor students.

"Hermione, I've been looking all over for you." The small girl panted.

Not realizing that this was not a mere girl, but a disguised Death Eater, Hermione looked at her, quite concerned. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"It's Janie Bowman. She's in big trouble. Madame Rosmerta caught her trying to steal a bottle of firewhiskey by trying to hide it under her robes. Madame Rosmerta's really mad! She says she's going to call the aurors and have Janie put in Azkaban. I went to get you right away, since you're head girl. Maybe you can talk to Madame Rosmerta. Is she really going to put Janie in Azkaban?"

"For stealing a bottle of cheap wine? I don't think so. But she's going to be in big trouble with Professor McGonnagal" She got up. "I'm sorry Harry, but I better go take care of this. I have my duties, as Head Girl. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Yeah, go ahead." Harry waved her off. Of course neither of them realized that not only was the tiny first year before them a transformed Death Eater, but so was the supposed thief. As for Madame Rosmerta, she had been firmly under the Imperio spell for several months, and would keep Hermione busy long enough for the next part of Voldemorts plan to work.

Harry sat by himself for a few moments, sipping on his butterbeer. The stuff was not nearly as enjoyable without his two best friends to converse with. He took his chocolate frog card of Dumbledore out of his pocket, and looked at it for a moment. It always made him feel better when he was lonely, to have this little peice of the Headmaster with him. After a bit he put the card back in his breast pocket, got up, swallowed what was left in one large gulp, and sauntered out of the tavern to go and see what else was going on in town. Perhap's he'd head for Fred and George's joke shop, to see how thoroughly they had tonguelashed Ron. Pretty clever of him, actually, to pay someone else to pull a prank on his brothers. It was almost Slytherin-like, but Ron was no Slytherin, of course.

As Harry passed by a littered alley, he heard a muffled scream come out of it's depths. It was just loud enough for him, and no-one else farther down the street to hear.

"What's that?" The alley was rather dark, shadowed by the buildings that were close on either side, and the gloomy clouds above. He drew his wand and pointed it. "Lumos!"

Down at the end of the alley, revealed by the magical light, he saw something terrible. Ron and Hermoine were struggling in the arms of two black-robed Death Eaters. Harry was stunned for a moment, then shouted, "NO!"

Hermione bit the hand of the Death Eater who had hold of her, freeing her mouth for an instant. "Harry, run, it's a trap!" She cried.

Not realizing that the real Ron and Hermione were quite safe, although engaged in sorting out a pair of wild goose chases, Harry charged down the Alley. As Voldemort had correctly reasoned, the false Hermione's urging him to run and save himself had the precise opposite effect on Harry. Once more, he acted without thinking. Had he paused for even a moment to think, he would have noticed minor details, such as the fact that when Hermoine had shouted at him, she had a slightly different accent in her voice than she normally did, or that certain of the cobblestones that paved the ground in the alley were new, lacking the filthy patina that years of exposure to weather, footsteps, and garbage had given the rest. Harry pelted down the alley, intent on saving what he believed were his friends, from the two death eaters holding them. There were only two of them, he thought. It wasn't Lord Voldemort himself. He could surely handle this.

As his foot landed on one of the numerous carefully placed cobblestones that had replaced the originals, Harry felt a familiar tugging at his navel. He could no longer run forwards, and as he saw Hermione's frightened expression suddenly twist into a sadistic grin of triumph, he realised that it was, indeed, a trap. And he had run right into it. He had barely time to look down and regard the cobblestone that was actually a portkey before it vanished, whisking him away to Merlin only knew what sort of horrible location.

The Death eaters grinned at eachother. "It worked." The one who looked like Ron said with a cruel sneer.

"Of course it did." said the one who resembled Hermione. "I did not doubt the Dark Lord for a second. Soon enough, he will have dealt with that fool, Potter, and then we will rule the entire wizarding world. But quickly, let's clean this up and be off before the incompetents Dumbledore assigned to guard Potter come looking for him."

They quickly dispelled the enchantments on the cobblestone portkeys, and apparated away. As the Death Eater had predicted, a few moments later, two aurors came running into the alley. They had been told to watch Harry from a distance, so he would not know he was being guarded and feel confined. Dumbledore wanted the poor boy to have as normal a life as he could, despite the destiny he had. But like many other decisions Dumbledore had made, this one was now proving to be a mistake. A person guarded from a distance, without their knowledge, will often escape the protection they are unaware exists. Which Harry had done many times. The aurors had argued with Dumbledore, but he had refused to alter his decision. After all, nothing bad had come of the few time Harry had left the aurors sight.

At least until now. The thirty seconds it had taken for the aurors to reach the alley Harry had so foolishly gone running down had been fifteen seconds too long. By the time they reached it, it was completely empty. Except for a single hole where the cobblestone portkey that had vanished with Harry had been, and few suspiciously clean bits of paving, which without their previous enchantment as portkeys would reveal nothing, there was no sign at all that anyone had ever been there.

The aurors gazed at eachother in horror. How on earth were they going to explain this to Dumbledore? And what could he possibly do about it, when they did? What could anyone in the world possibly do about it?

As if in answer to their despair, a cloud overhead rumbled, and the rain that had been threatening all day came pouring down.