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For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.
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17 – Week Thirty Eight, Third Year
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Sunday, May 6, 2001:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 07:04
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"You're up early," Arthur commented as Mattie joined the table.
She covered her mouth to yawn as she poured a cup of coffee. "I'm a bit nervous," she admitted. "Tonight's the lunar sunth, we were going to fly up and see what happens with Felicia and Professor Lupin." She took a sip, "Last month, they didn't take any potion. They used a bubble-head charm, they still transformed, but they sat around the cell talking while the others slept. I don't know if it's a complete cure, but..."
"What's a sunth?"
"The change between the two-week days and nights on the moon," Sprink said as she joined them. She yawned, "It's the sun's sunrise. Changing every two weeks instead of once a month will be a pain, but without the mindless, feral side, and the danger, I'll take it. Even if it's not a complete cure." She raised her teacup as Amanda and Felicia joined them, "G'morning!"
"Morning," Mattie said, sipping her coffee, "Anyway, Anne's in the infirmary, Ami Bones called them."
"What for?" Felicia asked.
"The flu bug that's been going around," she said. "Her immune system hasn't caught up to this century yet."
Sprink nodded, "I heard her moaning an' thrashing about last night. I thought it was another of ..." she shut up quickly.
"Another what?" Amanda asked. "Nightmare?" Sprink reluctantly nodded.
Kent Bundy stopped on his way to the Slytherin table, "Madame Pomfrey says Anne will be all right, but she'll miss classes tomorrow. Kelly and Karen are with her, I was thrown out." He frowned. "Can I get her anything?"
"She likes hot currant rolls with cinnamon and sugar on top," Mattie replied. "Get breakfast, we'll sneak you in with some." The first year grinned and moved off.
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Kent nervously cradled the large plate of rolls (a dish towel insulating his hands), as Mattie and Sprink paused outside the Infirmary. Sprink grinned, "Here's the plan. Mattie casts an invisibility spell on us, I'll transform, an' when you hear me scratch the door, we can sneak in."
"Got it," Kent said, and started as a grey-furred wolf appeared with a pop. Mattie grinned, waved her wand, and picked up the large tankard of cold milk from the floor as a faint scratch was heard on the door.
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"She's asleep," Anne heard, and she opened her eyes, "Nae, just resting mine eyes," she admitted as her young brother Kent appeared with Sprink and Mattie.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
"Some, but the Healer desires that I stay here for the nonce, for 'observation'." She sniffed, "What have you there?"
"Food, to build your strength," Kent said, "and milk to wash it down." Sprink pulled a small table over, adjusting it as the platter of buns appeared.
"So, what is the news?" Anne asked.
"Alfred sends his best," Mattie said, then leaned back as Kent leaned forward, "I learned this really neat hex in class..."
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"Pomfrey!" Sprink hissed, and a few seconds later the mediwitch appeared. "I thought I told you to rest, Miss Bundy," she said, "and you, Mr. Bundy, I sent off." She sighed, "You are with Miss Tonks and Miss Wayne. I should have suspected as much. Despite how delicious these are," she stole a tiny bite, "they are not good for you. Finish that one, and drink your milk. Leave the rest for your visitors to finish. You may have another twenty minutes, and then they will leave, and you will sleep for at least two hours, after which lunch will be served." She stole another tiny bite, then left.
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Tuesday, May 8, 2001:
Hogwarts, Muggle studies: 16:40
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"The muggle military," Professor Harry said to the group of teenage students. "We generally don't have much to do with them, although wizards have gotten involved once or twice. They're generally concerned with external defense, while the Aurors and police handle internal problems. They're usually split up into an army for land, navy for the sea, and air force for, well, the air."
"There are also commando forces that are small, designed to infiltrate an area, perform a mission, and extract without being detected," Professor Croft added. She touched the remote on the muggle slide projector, it whirred and ka-chunked as a slide appeared. "This is an SAS trooper; you may remember them from last year, when they were guarding Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Each country has several units of these types of troops."
"Oooh, like that uniform," Sprink muttered, licking her lips. Mattie turned and looked at her, and she asked, "What? He's a good looking bloke!" She regarded her friend, "You've got an idea forming, mate, what is it?"
Mattie shook her head as Professor Harry cleared his throat, "If you're finished, Miss Tonks?" She blushed, the class tittered, and he continued, "Care to comment, Miss Wayne?"
"Not at the moment, sir," she replied. "Please continue."
"Right..." he said, looking at her. He shook himself, "The units are usually split up under the different forces; for example the Navy has units that are primarily oriented toward seaborne operations, although they are equally competent on land." He eyed Mattie again, "I understand they're guarding Miss Wayne's starship."
"No comment, sir. I really don't have 'need to know' about what they're doing. I do understand they've forces from our allies in Germany and Russia, but that's all I know." She looked at the professor, "They have beaten off four attempts at Alfred's kidnapping. What they do with their prisoners, I have no idea."
"Who is 'Alfred'?" Professor Croft asked.
"Alfred is the AI, or artificial intelligence, on board the Yates," Mattie replied. "Much more than a simple computer, he's a thinking being, who happens to inhabit a starship. We're working on getting him legal recognition as a person, right now; he's the only AI on the planet, although schools like MIT and ETH Zurich are working on development, reverse-engineering his kernel." She added, "His core program, with his permission, of course."
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Wednesday, May 9, 2001:
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:13
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"...I believe that concludes the Hogwarts business," Minerva said. "Has anyone anything else?"
"Adelle is, surprisingly, still hanging in there," Lara Croft said. "She's become an alcoholic, and will need treatment, but she's surviving on pub grub and Irish whiskey. She roundly cursed me for getting her into this mess, along with the others in the pub. Fortunately, they didn't know what a 'muggle' was."
"Alfred requests a cook with German and Russian experience," Callista Vector said. "Apparently he's been feeding the troops guarding him, they're asking for home-cooked meals. He's also forwarded the request to Molly Weasley."
"The recipes are transferring correctly?" Harry asked.
"He's even developed regional variants, based on what the troops tell him," Callista replied. "His only real questions are where to send the commission money, and beer and vodka for the troops. Their commanders have over-ruled his serving them that, but he'd still like to get the data."
"We'll ask when we find that cook," Harry said. "A pint or two can be welcome, I know," and Narcissa frowned at him.
"I have some partial news," Severus said. "Apparently physical contact with the moon is enough to restore sanity for werewolves. They are still forced to transform, however, they lose their partial invulnerability to spells." He steepled his fingers, "Miss Hansen and Miss Tonks report that on the whole, they consider it an acceptable trade. They also picked up a rock; Mr. Slater has volunteered to test if that has the same properties next month. For now, they are still confining themselves for other's safety."
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Wednesday, May 9, 2001:
Hogwarts, (old) History class: 13:17
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Professor Binns finished calling the roll (of students long dead), and launched into the Goblin wars of 1570. Asking a question, he waited for a reply. He heard only silence, and looked up from his lecture notes, seeing an empty class.
He floated about the room, looking for his students, then left through a wall.
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Minerva looked up as Professor Binns floated through a wall in a state of high excitement (for him). "Albus! My students, they've gone! What shall we... oh, hello, Minerva. Where's Albus?"
"He retired at the end of last term, Horace," she said, steepling her fingers. "We missed you at the staff party. I am the new Headmistress. Now, what's this about your students?"
"They're gone! They're all gone! What shall we do?"
"Horace, you are aware that I've sat in on your classes?" Minerva asked adding, "The same students you call for every class? Percy Weatherby died of old age in 1844, one hundred fifty seven years ago." She moved to a couch, patting the seat next to her. "There has been a great deal that has happened in the world since the Goblin Wars, and you have not kept up."
"But... But who shall teach my classes?"
"We have an extremely competent fellow teaching History now," Minerva said gently. "Perhaps it is time you moved on?" She raised her voice slightly, "Baron?"
"We are here, Minerva," he said, appearing. "Thank you for handling this, but we shall help Horace from here." He moved closer to the distraught ghost, "Come along, my friend. We have a great deal to discuss."
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Thursday, May 10, 2001:
London, DMLE: 16:04
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Lucille backed against the door, waiting while the guard removed her handcuffs. The slot banged closed and locked, and she idly wandered around, kicking the orange ball provided for her 'exercise' and wondering what the red hoop mounted in the wall was for. She looked around, white stone walls and ceiling, and a steel door she had come through. Picking up the ball, she sat against the wall to wait.
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The steel door creaked open, slamming behind someone. She looked up as two large women entered. They crossed their arms, one saying, "You bounce the ball and try to get it through the hoop. It's called basketball."
"Muggle sport," Lucille sneered.
"Why, yes. Yes it is, and you'd be our own Death Eater scum, Malfoy. All alone, without a wand or your precious Dark Lord. The one that ordered the death of my family."
"You're so young, now, and wearing blocking bands for your magic," the other crooned. "It's such an understandable error, the guards have this room as vacant right now." She cracked her knuckles, "It might be a while before the mistake is noticed. We'll give you a chance, Malfoy, to die on your feet. It's more than you gave our families when you killed them."
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"You're lucky the guard heard the noise," the mediwitch told Lucille. "You'd have died in there."
"It does not matter," the young blonde said. "I shall be out of here and free once this farce of a trial is over. Then I can continue my work of eliminating the muggle scum that infests England."
"P'haps you'd best not talk. You are under the influence of potions," the mediwitch replied, looking at her patient. Plaster wrapped her arms and torso, one leg was elevated.
"It does not matter, even if they kill me, for I shall proceed on to the next step in my glorious plan, of becoming ruling Queen of Hell itself," the girl proclaimed. "I have earned the right!" she said, waving an arm. "Did you not see the marks, the marks of my crucifixion?"
"Er, yes, yes we did," the mediwitch said, standing. She checked the shackle securing the patient to the bed, then left as the prisoner cackled.
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Friday, May 11, 2001:
Dover Castle, third level dungeons: 12:38
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"Guter Nachmittag, mein Freund. Wie gehen Sie fühlend?" (Good afternoon, my friend. How are you feeling?)
"Ein wenig Kopfschmerzen. Wo bin ich? Ich dachte, daß ich in England war." (A bit of a headache. Where am I? I thought I was in England.)
"You are," a voice replied. "We'll have the doctor take a look at you in a minute. However, you were caught in civilian clothing, while carrying weapons without license, trying to steal an object the Crown has issued a Letter of Interest on. We can send you off for a very long time under the terrorism statutes, unless you'd like to talk."
"We are all professionals here," a third voice said with an Oxford accent. "Indeed, at one time or another, our countries have been allies. We have no more desire to cause you pain then you have to receive it. We are not KGB or SS."
"Danken Sie Gott!" (Thank God!) The German muttered. Switching to English, he said, "Mein Herr, we know what your orders are, we know a great deal about you and the activities in the States. As Herr Dimitri said, we are professionals. Will you co-operate, or must we call in the doctor with his needle full of truth serum?"
"Call in the doctor and let us get this over with. I have professional standards to which I must adhere, so we may as well skip the preliminaries."
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Friday, May 11, 2001:
London, DMLE: 17:54
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"Miss Malfoy?" Lucille looked up as the man continued, "I am Rufus Scrimgeour, head of DMLE. I would like to assure you and your solicitor that the attack upon you was unauthorized, and the participants shall be identified and dealt with."
"Given past history, I doubt that," Lucille snorted.
He harrumphed, "The two inmates that beat you have already been arrested and charged with battery, we are investigating which guards were colluding with them. If guilty, they will, at a minimum, lose their positions." He eyed her, "I can understand their positions; you are a supremely unpopular inmate, Miss Malfoy. There is a great deal of alleged blood on your hands, a great many people want revenge. Still, Great Britain is a nation of LAW, and those laws will be obeyed!" He thumped his walking stick. "Any assistance you can give to the Crown will be appreciated." Lucille snorted, Rufus nodded. "Very well, best wishes on your ... recovery, Miss Malfoy. Good day."
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