Disclaimer: Harry Potter never understands anything by himself, and it is tiresome for JK Rowling to be always and forever explaining things to them.

A/N: I am not a doctor, and information about Ebola Hemorrhagic Fever presented in this story may not be accurate, both because of my own ignorance, and that of the characters.

Sorry this took so long, I was almost ready to post it last week, but I was in the middle of proofreading when I discovered a serious continuity error, and it took me a while to decide how I wanted to fix it, and then I was unusually busy this week. But the next chapter is making good time.


Chapter 25: The Imperius Conundrum

EBOLA TRANSMISSION CONFIRMED IN FRANCE!—Le Figaro (Translated)

Health officials have confirmed that two cases of Ebola Hemorrhagic Fever detected in Paris last week were in fact contracted locally. This is the first person-to-person transmission reported in France, and the first such confirmed cases outside of Africa.

Although there has been some spillover of Ebola into surrounding countries from the Rwanda-Burundi-Zaire hot zone, all previous cases of Ebola outside of Africa have been acquired during travel to the hot zone either by relief workers or tourists. Ebola cases have also been confirmed in Belgium, Germany, Britain, and Italy, but this is the first evidence of endemic transmission of the disease in Europe. Most worryingly, one of the cases was not found in a healthcare worker, suggesting the disease is being transmitted in the general public. Health officials are currently working to trace the movements of the patients and look for any more cases.

The spreading of Ebola into other parts of the globe has been a growing worry worldwide as the East African outbreak has drawn on. However, officials have urged citizens to remain calm. Minister of Health Jacques Barrot had this to say:

"Ebola is believed to be spread primarily through blood, vomit, and feces. Only in severe cases can it be transmitted through other bodily fluids, and it can survive for only a few hours on dry surfaces. Thus, the vast majority of transmission occurs through family members and caregivers, especially in areas with good sanitation. Ordinary hygiene practises such as washing of hands and isolation of the sick, along with the help of health care practitioners, will be sufficient to prevent further spread of the disease."

While fatality rates in past Ebola outbreaks have been as high as 90%, experts say that with good medical care, if the disease is detected early, the fatality rate falls to 25%, and may decrease further as better care regimens are developed. Early symptoms of Ebola include fatigue, muscle aches, and a high fever followed by vomiting and diarrhoea


"Do we know if there are other ways for Ebola to be transmitted in the magical world?" Hermione asked after she read the article. "I mean to say, I don't know what they would be, but it's a magical disease, isn't it?"

"These days, I'm not so sure about that," Remus said. "It's a magically created disease, but from what I've read, muggle doctors are doing a pretty good job of understanding it without magic."

"The Ministry kept wizards returning from the East African War in strict quarantine for three weeks," Sirius pointed out.

"But they did loosen the restrictions since then," said Remus. "They've been pretty well in step with the muggle governments as far as I can tell. I'm not worried about us being here in Paris because of that."

The other witches and wizards of Paris didn't seem to share that opinion very much. Despite the assurances of both the French Minister of Health and the Ministry of Magic, the streets were quiet in the magical quarter when the Grangers went out shopping, and many of those who did come out wore gloves or scarves over their faces, which looked less out of place in the magical world in summer.

"I might still be a little more cautious than the Ministry of Magic says," Emma pointed out. "No offence, but we haven't always known them to be the most reliable. And the muggle government is better, but they pretty much said they don't fully understand it yet."

Harry shrugged. "People are kind of avoiding us anyway, so it doesn't make much difference," he said.

Sirius tried to strike a menacing pose that was too exaggerated to be serious. "Nah, that's just because we look so intimidating," he grinned.

The Grangers were always guarded when they went out, even in France, usually in a close-knit group with Sirius, Remus, and/or Tonks. They could admit Ebola was a secondary worry for them since they had far more concrete reasons for not wanting to get too mixed up with other people. There hadn't been much overt action, but there were rumours in France—rumours like the kind that accompanied the beginning of the war in Britain—mysterious disappearances, mutterings against non-humans, and more.

"Granted, there is a strong interest in keeping any serious disease out of Beauxbatons," Remus pointed out. "I know the paper says it doesn't spread easily, but hundreds of teenages living in close quarters, sharing bathrooms, inevitably some of them with poor hygiene, not to mention more hanky-panky among the upper years than we'd care to admit—"

"Did you just say 'hanky-panky,' Moony?" Sirius chided him.

Remus crossed his arms, refusing to rise.

"How difficult do you think it will be to keep Beauxbatons clear?" Emma asked him.

He shrugged: "A lot depends on how far it spreads among the public. If it's only a couple of cases, it should be fine. The trouble is that it can take up to three weeks for symptoms to show. We're relying on this 'contact tracing' method to find all the cases three weeks before school starts, just in case."

"But they need three weeks from now to be sure they've found them all. That's cutting it awfully close."

"It is, but I'm not that worried. I've been keeping an eye out, and it's rare that things like this spreads far outside the hot zone. I'm a lot more worried about the effect it'll have on the war."

Harry spun towards him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean because of the outbreak, the muggles are agitating for tighter border controls—so are wizards for that matter, but tighter borders on either side will make it harder for people to escape from Britain."

"But the Schengen Agreement—" Hermione started.

"Is under a lot of strain right now, Hermione," her father interrupted. "I've been watching the muggle news. People are scared, and when people get scared, they start to close off. Add attacks on muggles by Death Eaters, which they're working extra hard to frame as muggle terrorists, and I'm worried the European Union is going to struggle to hold together."

"Come on," Sirius said, "let's not worry about this now. Relax and enjoy the day."

They did try. And they had things to do. The Grangers had been out shopping a lot lately, buying all the incidentals they needed for their Paris apartment, and now, they had to anticipate the supplies Harry and Hermione would need since it was agreed that the refugee Hogwarts students would be attending Beauxbatons. They would still have to wait for the book list, but the Beauxbatons robes and different standards for things like potions kits could be taken care of now.

It was going well, too, until they came out of the apothecary. They'd just started on their way when there was a commotion on the other side of the narrow street.

"Deprimo!"

For a fraction of a second, the shout didn't consciously register to Harry, but his instincts kicked in all the same. Before he even knew why, he spun to his left and threw out his hand, producing a strong Contego shield charm wandlessly. His eyes widened as a spell that could have put a hole through his chest exploded against it. Contego could only take one hit anyway, but the blast nearly knocked him off his feet. Only his feline sense of balance saved him from that.

Most of the witches and wizards around Harry were still drawing their wands when he threw off a lightning-fast Depulso in the direction the attack had come from, followed by an Expelliarmus, while simultaneously putting up another Contego shield with his left hand.

But his attacker apparently hadn't been expecting an attack to come that fast. There was a loud crash as a wizard flew backwards through a shop window. Screams filled the air, and everyone nearby stopped to stare at the fight, many of them holding up wands defensively.

"Everybody stay put!" Sirius yelled to the crowd before charging after the wizard. "Harry, get to safety. Any Aurors here? Des Aureurs? I need help with the perp."

Harry was still trying to process what had just happened. "Bloody hell, did he just try to kill me?" he said.

"Harry, we have to get out of here," his dad ordered.

"Was he a Death Eater?"

"Later, Harry!" Mum yelled, and she grabbed him by his left arm and pulled him away.


"Who was he?" Harry asked that evening.

"Not a Death Eater," Sirius said.

"How do you know? We didn't detect the ones at Hogwarts."

Sirius sighed: "Because he's muggle-born."

"What?"

"Imperius Curse. Cast on him in Britain before he escaped…or was set loose."

"God, the Imperius Curse," Harry said. "I know everyone says how bad it was in the last war, but I didn't think…"

"I know. It was awful back then. You didn't know who to trust. Anyone could turn on you. Your best friend could be compromised if you couldn't account for all of his movements. That's why we say to always travel in groups. Sometimes, it's even more important for that than for avoiding direct attacks. The one who attacked you didn't even remember being cursed."

"And I'm guessing no one noticed until then. Like he was a sleeper agent."

"Almost, and yeah, that's the other problem," Tonks said. She had been working with the French Aurors to wrap up the case and report back to Fudge. "An Imperius command can be something like, 'Keep acting normal, until you see Harry Potter, and then kill him.' It's damned hard to root out something like that."

Sirius added, "We even considered the possibility that the spy in the Order was Imperiused, but we were pretty sure we ruled everyone out."

"But how?" Hermione asked. "If it can make people into sleeper agents, how can you find them at all?"

"Because it doesn't, not exactly," Tonks said. "The weak point of the Imperius Curse is that it's either active all the time, or you fight it off and break it. You can't just implant a command that reappears later, like with hypnosis. If you're being compelled to act normal, it's harder to fight it, but it also means you can slip up in a weird enough situation." She flashed a wicked grin. "I liked to use Frog Spawn Soap in Auror training. If people don't freak out the way they should to frogs in the shower, you need to haul 'em in for deep testing."

Harry and Hermione stared at her.

"The real problem is, we're still not sure if it was just bad luck that you ran into him, or if he was targeted somehow."

"Does it matter?" Harry asked.

"It could." Sirius said. "It could mean the difference between one targeted attack and there being other sleeper agents or whatever you want to call them randomly lurking about."

Tonks nodded: "He didn't remember being pointed at a specific spot, but he was in an area where he knew you'd probably be several times this summer. He could have been lying in wait without realising it.

"Either way…" Hermione mused. "Can we check everyone coming out of Britain for the Imperius Curse?"

She shook her head: "Not easily. It can be done, but it takes a lot of time and wandpower. And it's one more reason for France to police its borders closer, which isn't so good for us. It'll make it harder for Voldemort's enemies to escape to here, and it doesn't do anything about the ones who are already here."

"Bollocks," Harry muttered. "Hey, Voldemort would know all this stuff, wouldn't he?"

"Sure. He's smart enough," Remus said. "He's probably been planning how to use Imperiused agents for months. Why?"

"I…I don't know, but I have a bad feeling about it. I'm sure we haven't seen the worst of what he can do with them."


ABANDON FUDGE!—Leaflet Drop, Place Cachée, Paris

The Dark Lord of London declares the so-called "Ministry in Exile" of Cornelius Fudge to be an illegal and traitorous organisation dedicated to the overthrow of the legitimate Ministry in London and a danger to wizardkind everywhere.

Cornelius Fudge is nothing more than a puppet for Albus Dumbledore and relied exclusively on Dumbledore's advice during his term.

Albus Dumbledore is a known associate of Gellert Grindelwald and a self-confessed muggle-lover who once worked to revoke the Statute of Secrecy. He claims to have rejected these views, but enforcement of the Statute was dramatically more lenient under his rule as Chief Warlock. Ministry records prove that Dumbledore was party to the following violations of the Statute of Secrecy

The leaflet proceeded to list about a dozen breaches of the Statute, including three relating to Harry Potter's family and friends. It was in fine print and padded to look like a substantial list, but at the bottom was a warning in large print again:

ALL WITCHES AND WIZARDS FOUND TO BE AIDING THE ILLEGAL MINISTRY OF FUDGE AND DUMBLEDORE WILL BE PUNISHED SEVERELY!


There was a certain irony in the fact that being in what many would consider an unsafe situation—standing exposed in a large crowd at a major public event—may have saved the Granger Family.

Of course, the reason was that the crowd was in the muggle world.

Hermione had cautiously brought up the idea of going out to watch the Bastille Day celebrations, and Harry picked up the idea at once, over their parents' objections. After consulting with Sirius, Remus, and Tonks, they agreed that since it would be in the muggle world, and the Death Eaters were actively trying to uphold the Statute of Secrecy, it was actually a pretty safe place to be for a wizard.

The fireworks show was pretty good, and they didn't have any trouble there as tourists. Sirius and Victoria were with them tonight, and they enjoyed it too. All in all, it was a pretty good night until the very end. The show was over, but the people were still dispersing when Harry's instincts twinged. He pricked up his ears—almost literally—and turned around, surveying the crowd.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

"I don't know," he said, his voice taking on a quiet intensity. "I think something's up, though."

He drew his wand, holding it low and inconspicuously. Hermione and Sirius followed.

"I don't see anything," Victoria whispered.

"No, he's right—" Sirius said.

Harry just had time to notice two figures rushing through the crowd before someone yelled out, "Le voilà! Potter!"

Suddenly, there were a doze robed figures racing towards them, pushing the tourists out of the way as they all converged on the Grangers' location. Possibilities flashed through Harry's mind. They couldn't all Apparate away at once. They weren't expecting an attack this large in France. They'd have to try to make a gap and run for it.

His family must have been thinking the same things because they circled and began throwing out Stunning Hexes and Impediment Jinxes. But the expected volley of dark curses didn't come. Instead, the "attackers" shouted out, "Arrêtez! Aureurs!" And they were only using Shield Charms and casting Confundus Charms over the surrounding muggles. Harry stopped casting. Moments later, they were surrounded by French Aurors. He and Hermione lowered their wands, but Sirius and Victoria didn't.

"Alright, why are you here, and how did you know where we were?" Sirius growled, which was a good point, Harry thought. There was nothing to stop the Death Eaters from doing the same thing if they could get here.

"I told them, Sirius." One of the Aurors stepped forward, and they were surprised when her face changed to a familiar heart shape, and the hair turned a bright tricolour.

"We 'ad to ensure zat Monsieur Potter was safe," one of the French Aurors explained.

"Well, what are you doing running in here after him out in public?" Sirius demanded. "That's a good way to attract attention."

"There wasn't time, Sirius," Tonks said. "They were being more aggressive than we expected, and we didn't know if anyone would come after him."

"In a muggle crowd?" he said. "When no one knew where we were?"

"Don't you remember, Sirius? Voldemort has a Seer on call. We haven't been thinking about what that means for security."

Harry and Hermione paled. "Bloody hell," they said in unison.

Sirius lowered his wand. "Why now, though? What's going on?"

"Zere 'ave been attacks tonight," the French Auror replied. "Several of zem around ze country."

"Oh! How bad is it?" Emma asked.

"Bad enough that we were worried you wouldn't be safe out here," Tonks said. "Only a few people were hurt, one dead, but Voldemort's clearly got more agents in France than we thought. And at least one of the attacks would've needed inside information to pull off. Stuff that would be damn near impossible to get even with the Imperius Curse. The French Aurors were worried they used divination to do it, and if they could do that, they might be able to find Harry."

"What did they do that needed inside information?" Sirius asked.

"Not 'ere," another of the French Aurors stopped them. "Not in public."

"He's right. We should get back behind wards," Tonks agreed. "Let's get out of sight."

Most of the Aurors spread out again, but Tonks and one other stayed close. They hurried through the crowd, subtly nudging muggles out of their way with their wands. They soon made their way to a dark alley, and they Apparated away, taking the Grangers by side-along.


Harry was not happy, and they'd barely even mentioned the actual attacks yet.

"I can't just hide the whole time," he complained.

"We need to keep you safe first," his dad told him. "The Aurors are right. It's dangerous to be out in public. Considering there's a Seer working against us—if I understand right, there's a chance he could find you even if you're incognito—even if it's only one time in twenty."

"That's pretty much right, Dan," Dora said. "Talking with Madam Fan, it's tricky to get something that specific, but there are ways they could predict where Harry's going to be, even if you don't tell anyone."

"So I'm just supposed to stay here the whole time?" Harry said.

"Harry," his mum warned him.

"Mum, I'll look weak if I do that. I'm going to go out and do something dangerous, but we can't just ignore image."

"You can if the heat gets too strong, Harry," Sirius said grimly. "Your birth parents went into hiding when we new Voldemort was specifically going after them. Now, they did go out from time to time, but they kept quiet about it. They were nearly ghosts to the general public. Now, what we did tonight, I don't think it was that bad. We had someone we trusted who could tell where to find you—"

"Isn't that a weak link?" Harry said. "No offence, Dora."

"It is, but if it's just for an evening, it's not a big risk—and less if Voldemort's using divination and not interrogation to find you. The main thing is that we should have had enough people there to Apparate all of you away at once, and maybe an alternate escape route, too."

At that, Hermione spoke up: "Is there any chance we can start Apparition lessons early? I'll be seventeen in two months."

Dora looked thoughtful. "Hm, well, you definitely yes, Hermione. You're close enough to of age. I'll have to ask Madam Bones about Harry, but she'll probably agree. Other than that, Sirius is right, Harry. You need to be better prepared to make a quick getaway. And, I'd add, we have Seers of our own. You should talk to them, too."

Harry gave her a hard stare: "Seriously?"

"What? One of them is a friend, isn't she? And they can help."

"Fine," he grumbled. "I mean, sure, I can talk to them. But I don't want to be like—who was it? President Reagan?—consulting an astrologer for everything I do."

Dora rolled her eyes: "You don't have to. This isn't about whether the stars are aligned for your next Quidditch match or whatever. Think of it like spies. They're trying to find you, and you have to outsmart them."

"Dora…" Dan spoke up, "what were the attacks?"

She sighed: "Okay, I've got permission to tell you this, but don't spread it around. There are two French wizards who have come down with Ebola. There've been rumours, but I don't think it's public yet. They're being treated in secret in a muggle hospital because the local muggles actually have more experience with it, but the muggle public don't know about it either. Anyway, the Death Eaters got into the hospital and broke the containment. We still have the patients, so probably nothing will come of it, but it sends a message, and that message will probably be all over their next leaflet drop.

"That's the scariest one because it couldn't have been easy for them to find the hospital, but there were several others. Number two, there was an attack at the Citadelle de Calais. That's the only really strategic site they've hit so far—besides trying to kill you, Harry. Take out the Citadelle, and you break all the Portkey routing to the British Isles, and a lot of it to Scandinavia and even Canada. Then there was a token attack on the Ministry—just a curse-and-run. And a couple of private residences. Your friends the Delacours were hit."

Harry snapped back to attention. "Fleur? Gabrielle?"

"They're all fine, Harry. Their wards held until help could arrive."

"Can we see them?" He asked. "We've barely talked to them in the past year, and I want to make sure they're alright." He stopped as a thought struck him. "They didn't go after them because of me, did they?"

Dora winced a little. "I don't think it was that, Harry. You can see for yourself."


The Delacours' house was not extravagant, but it was a good-sized villa, with sprawling grounds. It was on the outskirts of Baton Vert where they could get more land than in town. Harry could understand why a mixed Veela family would want some distance between them and the village. The house and some of the trees had sustained some fire damage in the attack, but that wasn't what drew the eye. The fire has been put out, but the graffiti remained. It was written across the whole front of the house in some sort of luminous, magic resistant paint that glowed Killing Curse-green.

ZOOPHILE

"Oh, that's real nice," Harry said. He sought out Fleur and found her standing in front of the house, wearing a coat over top of a nightie. She must either still be living at home or had been visiting. "Fleur?" he said softly.

She spun toward him and hissed, but calmed down when she saw him. Seeing her face in the green light, she didn't look like she'd been crying. She just looked angry. Gabrielle, on the other hand, was holding tight to her sister and sobbing into her coat.

"'Arry," she said.

"I'm glad you're alright," he told her in French. "How bad was it?"

Fleur glanced back at the writing on the house. "It was frightening at first," she said, "but they were not trying very hard to hurt us. We weren't a major target, I think, and we could fight back. Even the structural damage to the house wasn't much, but they sent their message."

"How—?" Gabrielle choked out and looked up at them."How did they get all the way to Baton Vert? I thought they were up north."

"Once they were in the country, it would not be that hard to travel around, Gabrielle. Will you go back to Mother, please. I need to talk to 'Arry and the Aurors."

Gabrielle clearly didn't want to leave Fleur's side, but once they escorted her back to the rest of their family, she reluctantly let go. As she did, she looked up at Harry and forced a small smile. "Thank you for coming, 'Arry," she said.

"No problem, Gabrielle," he said.

Fleur sighed as she left and stared after her.

"So, what's wrong?" Harry ventured.

"I'm a little worried how they knew which house was ours," she said.

He looked around the neighbourhood. "It wasn't a secret, was it?"

"No, but it also wasn't something you could find out in a night. They would have had to prepare."

"It wouldn't be the first time. One of the other targets tonight was a secret. I can't say more than that. And maybe when that Imperius wizard attacked me in the Place Cachée."

"Hm. Perhaps. But Veela prefer to keep a low profile in wizard communities. And then there is Gabrielle."

"Is something wrong with her?"

"No, no, it is only that she is nearly at the age where the more depraved Death Eaters might take an interest in her."

"What? But she's only ten!" Harry near-yelled it in English before catching himself. Half the crowd stopped and stared at him. It probably wouldn't be hard to guess what they were talking about. "Excuse-moi."

"She is also part-Veela, 'Arry," Fleur informed him, "and you underestimate the depravity of dark wizards."

Harry looked back to the ugly, glowing graffiti and snorted: "Hypocrites. You're right about that. As if they'd refuse a Veela if they could get one."

At that point, Madame Delacour, Dora, and one of the French Aurors joined their conversation. "You are right, Monsieur Potter, but not as a wife, and definitely not as a mother."

"Yeah, it's the same way they're trotting out 'stealing family magic' in the new laws," Dora said. "Marrying a Veela is the real crime to them—or at least to their rhetoric. I get the same kind of crap a lot as a Metamorph."

Fleur looked up in surprise. "Oh, you are Métamorphoseur?"

"Sure. Couldn't you tell from the pink hair?" Dora grinned. "I could do Veela silver." Suddenly, her spiky pink hair lengthened past her shoulders and turned a shimmering silver that you never saw on full humans. "Can't quite get the glow right, though." She extended her hand. "I don't think we got the chance to talk during the Tournament. Auror Tonks. No first name if you know what's good for you."

"It's Nym—OW!" Harry said as she trod on her foot.

Fleur laughed and shook her hand. "Charmée. But she is right, 'Arry," she explained. "You can see it in zeir message. Maybe it was, 'ow do you say it? A Freudian slip? But if it were ze other zing, ze word should be 'bestialiste.'"

"I didn't need to know that," Harry groaned.

"Is zere a reason zey attacked on Bastille Day, Auror Tonks?" Madame Delacour asked. "Magical France barely even celebrates it, and it is not like zey were going after ze muggles."

Tonks shook her head: "It was probably a cover. With fireworks going off all over, the Death Eaters were freer to move openly and torch some places that straddle the two worlds. With them being extra careful about the Statute of Secrecy, this'll probably be the worst attacks we have for a while, but we still have to be constantly vigilant! Say, how do you say 'constant vigilance' in French."

Fleur giggled: "Vigilance constante?"

"Oh. That's boring."


"I've got bad news, everyone," Edward Grayson told the impromptu meeting of the Order of the Phoenix (or what was left of it). "The attacks here in France weren't the only ones."

"They weren't?"

"What happened?"

"Something back home?"

"No. No, it wasn't in Britain," he cut in. "A muggle-born couple moved to Australia and offered to give an interview to Corona Australis. They're the only paper that calls Voldemort by his birth name, Tom Riddle. Apparently, as soon as they entered the building, they went berserk, killed the interviewer, seriously wounded the editor, and smashed up the printing press."

"Imperius Curse?" Harry said.

"Yes. My granddaughter, Kylie, showed up a few minutes later and caught them, but the damage was done. And that's not all. The muggle-born couple first evacuated from England to France on the night of the battle up there."

"The night of the battle?" Hermione said in horror. "But that means they were already making sleeper agents then."

He shook his head: "I don't think so."

Harry saw it at once: "It means Voldemort has agents Imperiusing people here."

"It is hardly a surprise," Dumbledore explained. "With the other attacks in France and the leaflet drops, it was nearly inevitable. Although I admit that expert use of the Imperius Curse implies high-level Death Eaters and not mere copycats."

"But how did they get in?" Hermione protested. "I guess it was a problem anyway, but I thought the French Ministry was screening everyone at the border."

"They can't cover all the muggle routes," Sirius said. "No one can. And Madam Fan agrees it's possible Jugashvili could use divination to figure out magical France's border patrols, or else find holes in them."

"Then what can we do? How can we stop them? They're already shutting down the borders as much as they can, and that's not good for Britain as it is."

"I talked to Cho," Harry said. "She says our Seers can use divination to predict attacks. It's not foolproof, and they won't be able to spend all their time on it, but—"

"No, no, no," Grayson stopped him. "That's good thinking, but we'd do better if they work on ferreting out enemy agents. Focus on the people who are doing the attacks and interrogate them when we find them."

"Oh, right. That makes sense," Harry said, "although she had another idea. If the Aurors cast lots or something to randomise their patrols, she thinks it'll slow Jugashvili down."

"Hm, yes, that could work. I'll recommend it to them," he replied.

At that, Dumbledore moved on. "The next order of business is that there has been something of a shake-up in the Ministries of Magic. Remus?"

Remus stood. "Well, I'm still not sure how how it happened, everyone, but I've got a better job than I ever thought I'd have, at least on parchment."

"Really?" Harry said in surprise.

"What is it, Remus?" Hermione asked.

He grinned at them: "You are looking at the new Deputy Director of Magical Law Enforcement."

"What?"


"Professor Lupin," said Cornelius Fudge, "I want to make you Deputy Director of Law Enforcement for War."

"What?" he said.

"You'd answer to Amelia, or to me and Dumbledore directly. You'd be in charge of strategic planning, logistics, battle plans—the kind of things regular law enforcement doesn't cover—although you'd of course have the full resources of the Department to support you."

"Me—I—but—" Remus sputtered. "But Minister, I don't have any government experience, and the only fighting I did was in the Order of the Phoenix."

Fudge cut him off with a wave of his hand. "I know all this, Professor Lupin," he said, "and frankly, I don't have the kind of strategist I really want, but you're one of the best scholars of Grindelwald's War we have, and that makes you one of the best people to advise in this one."

"I hardly think I'm the best, Minister," Remus said. He felt faint. "There are plenty of people still around who fought in it."

"Yes, but most of them were on the front lines. People who are trained in battle tactics and duelling are two a knut, but for large-scale strategy, there aren't many left besides Dumbledore and Grayson. And Britain hardly has any scholars trained in history anymore."

Which didn't include Remus either, but still, he was getting the gist of it. "Large-scale strategy," he muttered, thinking back over his lesson plans surrounding Grindelwald's War and the hours he spent poring over histories and war diaries to make them. Grayson would surely give him his lesson plans, too. "I guess I can see how I could contribute," he admitted.


"Well, congratulations, Deputy Director," Sirius said. "Didn't James and I tell you you'd be the most likely to get a top Ministry job?"

Remus rolled his eyes: "Yes, and you were still mad for saying it at the time, Sirius. I almost can't believe I said yes now. I only hope I'm as good as you think I am. Anyway, we have a couple other changes, too. Sirius might've spilt it already, but we talked to Amelia Bones, and she called him back to full Hitwizard duty, so he'll be out patrolling more. And Harry, Dora is now your official head bodyguard."

"Madam Bones thought I'd be the best choice to blend in with a couple of teenagers," she said.

Harry snorted: "Blend in."

"Just don't make her job harder than it needs to be," Remus said. "And there's a couple changes of interest to some of us on the French side, too. Most notably, Apolline Delacour has been appointed an ambassador."

"Really?" Emma said in surprise. "I didn't know she had any government connections."

"Like me, she doesn't," he explained. "However, with the prominence of Fleur's participation in the Tetrawizard Tournament, the Delacours are among the most famous Veela in France right now. Fleur is proof that Veela are more than just a pretty face, and as the woman who raised her, Apolline can prove she's the same—that's as she explained it to me. I understand her husband has also joined the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol or whatever they call it here. Anyway, Madame Delacour will be the ambassador to all the Veela of Europe, so she has the experience to do it. It'll be important, I think. A big part of winning this war is going to be building a strong group of leaders like they had in Grindelwald's War…I'm still not convinced I'm the best for that, but I think it's starting to come together."


The first planning session involved only Cornelius Fudge, Amelia Bones, Remus Lupin, and Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore had said they ought to bring in the other Grand Mages, but Fudge had vetoed that. Brits only to start with, he said. Operational security. They would bring in other people as needed later.

"Alright, gentlemen, madam," Fudge said formally, "we need to plan our course of action. Our goals are, first, prevent You-Know-Who from spreading his control to more countries—his agents if we can, but especially his direct rule. We have to hold the line at France. And second, plan an invasion of the British Isles to take them back."

"Both will need help from the ICW, of course," Dumbledore said.

"Obviously, but I want us settled in our plans so we can build a strong case before we bring it to them. Now, how do we control this situation?"

Remus took out a large map of Europe and rolled it out on the conference table. It was coloured in, but the colours blurred into one another across the borders, and major cities glowed in purple, green, and white depending on their alignment. "First off, Minister, governments run distinct countries, but the theatre of war is not about territory with well defined borders. It's a network of strategic assets, one where the boundaries are nebulous and defined more by language than nationality, especially with of the Durmstrang situation—"

"Yes, I know all that, Deputy Director Lupin," Fudge scoffed.

Remus looked up sheepishly: "Just making sure we're on the same page, Minister. It's hard to be sure given how long Binns was teaching."

Madam Bones studied the map. "Network it may be, Mr. Lupin," she said, "but there are fronts in this war. Nearby cities are connected more strongly than distant ones."

"True," Remus agreed.

"And right now, France is pretty well insulated from the front lines. The only strong connection is through Calais, and that's already causing us enough trouble. The way I see it, the greatest danger is if Germany throws in with the other side. If the Death Eaters can gain easy entry from Calais, past Strasbourg, or even as far as Lyon…How could we hold up against that kind of invasion."

Dumbledore cleared his throat: "By hoping that the enemy overextend themselves, and by counterattacking where the opportunity presents itself. That is how we were forced to fight against Grindelwald's forces."

"Hmm," Madam Bones said. "It seems like it would be a lot easier to rescue the hostages in Durmstrang and break You-Know-Who's hold on Germany. Mr. Lupin, what do you think the prospects are?"

He shook his head: "That, will be very difficult, ma'am, as the ICW has already discussed. We'd have to take them by surprise and hit hard and fast enough to break up their defences before they can hurt the hostages. Durmstrang is a hard target, nearly as hard to break into as Hogwarts, and we don't have anyone on the inside. For that matter, we don't even know where it is. They're one of the most secretive schools in the world."

Madam Bones stared at him with a gleam of inspiration in her eye: "But if we did know where it is, that means they wouldn't expect us coming, would they?"

Remus shrugged: "Maybe not, but how would we find out, ma'am? Visitors have their memories of the location wiped, and it wouldn't surprise me if they do it to their students, too. Or else they only know how to get there by magical means. There's no nearby magical village, and—well, if we blacked out the windows on the Hogwarts Express, no one would know how to get there either."

Suddenly, Fudge spoke up: "What about Viktor Krum?"

"Krum? What about him?"

"Do you think there's any chance he'd know? He's back in Bulgaria now, and he might have privileges their other graduates don't."

The all looked to Dumbledore, who shrugged. "It is possible," he said. "I would not know how Durmstrang treats its famous son, although Mr. Krum may have also slipped through the cracks because the school was without a head at the time of his graduation."

Madam Bones nodded. "That's a good thought, Minister. It's worth looking into if Krum's willing to cooperate. I'll ask Monroe to send for him."


"I am happy to help you, Professor Lupin," Viktor Krum said. "Death Eaters are acting disgracefully, and I vant to see students at Durmstrang freed from their control. But I am afraid I do not know exact location of school. They do not Obliviate students, but ve also did not know vhere it vas—"

"That's alright, Mr. Krum," Remus said. "I'm not surprised. But anything you tell us—the terrain and so forth—could be useful to narrow it down."

"I vas not finished, Professor," he said with a growing smile. "As Quidditch star, I vas given more leave to fly around area—farther and vithout supervision. I vill tell you vhatever I can."


"Mr. Krum says that Durmstrang is in the mountainous part of the country," he told the next meeting. "But it's on a lake, not a fjord, which puts it a good ways inland. The length of day on the solstices tells us the latitude to better than fifty miles; it's below the arctic circle. Cross-referencing with muggle settlements, and I think it's very likely that the school is somewhere in this region."

He drew an oval on the map with his wand in western Scandinavia, where the Norway-Sweden border would be on muggle maps. A large swath within the oval was marked with a muggle name: Børgefjell Nasjonalpark."

"That's still a lot of ground to cover," Madam Bones said.

"Yes, but it's a lot better than we had before, Director. If we can get muggle photos from the ground—tourist guides and such—Krum might be able to narrow it down further, and it's small enough that we could scout out the area if we can get enough magical trackers in there safely."

"Any idea how we could manage that, Mr. Lupin?" asked Fudge.

"Yes, about that, Minister…I had a thought that reminds me of when Harry said, 'I have a really bad idea.'"

Fudge and Bones both gave him annoyed looks, but Dumbledore was thoughtful. "If you think it is worth mentioning here, I believe we should hear you out, Remus."

He nodded. "A lot of this depends on what you think the ICW forces can manage, Albus," he said, "but looking at the map, even if we find Durmstrang, it's gonna be hell to get to it. We won't be able to get to it from the south. That's right through the heart of Norway's built-up area. From the east at the Baltic Sea, it's still over two hundred miles through enemy territory in Sweden. From the west over the water, well, they'll be expecting that, won't they? That's how they got to Hogwarts. But I wonder if we might be able to get in from the north."

Fudge snorted. "From the north? You're right, Lupin, that's a bad idea. Even I can see that's two or three hundred miles through rough terrain, and that's also enemy territory."

"I know, sir, but it's sparsely populated territory, unlike the others, especially if we come in over the spine of the mountains." He drew a wiggling line on the map, tracing along the watershed. "It's physically the hardest route, and ordinarily, I'd say it has to be done by broom, which has its own risks, but I doubt they'll meet many patrols coming from that way."

"Ordinarily?" Dumbledore said shrewdly. "I take it you mean Ambassador Grayson's particular skill set."

Remus smiled. "Exactly, Albus. Grayson can use songlines to navigate the roughest terrain quickly with enough preparation, and there's something else that could be a help to us." He extended the watershed line north, well past the Arctic Circle, to the very northern tip of the continent where a small magical village was marked.

Fudge's eyes flashed in understanding. "The Lapps!" he exclaimed.

"They prefer the Sámi, Minister. According to the Grangers."

"Pfft. I'll call them whatever they want if they help us. Will they?"

"I think they might. Their heritage is closer to the Finns and some of the Siberian tribes Grayson's visited than the Norse. And I asked Krum, and he doesn't remember seeing any at Durmstrang, so I assume they either homeschool or go to one of the Russian campuses."

"Allies on the Death Eaters' flank," Bones said. "It's worth a try. At least taking the time to send Grayson up there to talk to them, if the ICW agrees."

"Yes, very impressive, Remus," Dumbledore agreed.

"Good," Fudge said, making the decision. "Dumbledore, run that by Grayson when you can. Now, the more immediate concern about You-Know-Who extending his reach is Grey-back and the other werewolves. What can we do about that…?"