Chapter 31: The Third Altercation
May 31st was coming too soon. The school had planned and drilled in every spare second available and on the evening of the 30th, Harry still felt that it wasn't enough.
"How are those stunners coming along, Hermione?" he asked.
"Pretty good, Harry. Not many people can cast them, but those that can- wow. You should see it. Voldemort himself could try to use an ennervate counter-jinx and it wouldn't work."
"Excellent, Hermy. I knew I could count on you."
"I only wish we knew what these supposed 'warning shots' were going to be."
Harry shrugged and looked back to the new escape plans Ron had drawn up. He had no idea and even long late hours discussing battle tactics with Professor Luenebraum in his office had formulated nothing more than educated guesses.
Ginny looked up from straightening Hermione's hair with her wand. "Maybe that's our problem. Mouldy-Shorts has never offered warning shots before, so we really have no idea what to expect."
"That's true," Hermione agreed, examining her new straight look with a pleased smile. "Even I can't expect Voldemort to sacrifice ANY of his men for a warning shot- he knows he'll need them all. I have to give him at LEAST that much credit."
"Good point, Hermione," Ron agreed. "So maybe he's not going to sacrifice his men, then."
"What are you getting at, Ron?" asked Ginny. "How can he deliver a warning shot with no men here to send it out?"
Ron stood up from the table where he had spread his plans and began to pace. "That's what I mean- maybe he's not going to sacrifice his OWN men. Maybe he's going to sacrifice ours."
"And how would he do that?" Harry asked. At this point he was prepared to take any suggestion, no matter how ludicrous.
"I don't know, really," Ron admitted. "I mean, we have to admit Voldemort's really powerful. He forced you to see that fake vision of him holding Sirius hostage, so who's to say that he won't do it again?"
"True as that may be, Ron," Hermione began, "Harry's occlumency shields are nearly impenetrable now."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, "thanks to Dumbledore, any way."
But Ginny was catching on to Ron's train of thought. "Right! But who's to say that he won't use the same tactic on someone OTHER than Harry?"
"We're forgetting a key point here, though!" Hermione cried, exasperatedly. "Harry and Voldemort have a connection! That's how he got through in the first place!"
"Yeah, but Harry's a really powerful wizard!" Ron disagreed.
"Ron, really—" Harry blushed embarrassedly, "I'm not that powerful, honestly."
"Oh, sod off it, Harry. You know you are, so stop being modest," Ron persisted. "Voldemort is ALSO really powerful. I don't think he'd NEED a connection to break into a normal wizard's mind."
Ginny dropped the lock of her friend's hair she had been working on. "Bloody hell, Ron. You're ruddy brilliant sometimes, do you know that?"
Ron had the grace to look humble. "Thanks, Gin. But do you really think I'm right?"
"I think you are," offered Harry. "We need to talk to Dumbledore, right away."
"It's way past curfew, Harry," Hermione said immediately. "Even with the back library passage and your invisibility cloak, there's no way."
"Simple," supplied Ginny. "We can have Sanguine flash him a note to come down here. I think he might find it refreshing to get out of his office for once."
Fifteen minutes later, Albus Dumbledore stepped through the portrait hole, much to the surprise of those still in the Common Room other than Harry and his friends. They quickly gathered up their things and departed.
"Goodness," Albus commented dryly. "You would think that they thought I was here to punish them for not being in bed yet. Even so, this gives us more freedom to speak plainly. What is it Mr. Weasley?"
"Me?" squeaked Ron.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley, you. Mr. Potter sent me a note informing me that you might have some insight as to what Lord Voldemort may be up to."
Quickly Ron explained his theory, with Hermione filling in the gaps where he stuttered from being put on the spot.
"What do you think, Professor?" Ginny asked.
Dumbledore walked to the window and stared at the grounds while formulating his thoughts on the matter. After a few minutes he straightened and pressed his hands and face against the glass.
"Oh, dear," he muttered.
"What is it, sir?" asked Hermione fearfully.
"I am afraid we may be too late."
The four students rushed to the window and pressed their faces against the glass, two on either side of the headmaster.
Professor Luenebraum was at the front gate with Madam Hooch and they were exiting the grounds.
"What are we going to do, Professor?" Hermione asked.
"At this point, Miss Granger," Albus replied with a sigh, "I suppose all we can do is wait."
"You're just going to stand there?" Ginny outraged. "Professor Dumbledore, we HAVE to do something!"
"I understand, Mrs. Potter, but at this point in time the only thing I can do is call a staff meeting. If you will excuse me, please, I'll get right on it."
Dumbledore swept from the room, his shoulders slumping as the portrait hole closed behind him. Those remaining in the Common Room turned their attention immediately to Harry.
"What are we going to do, Harry?" Ginny asked, her eyes filling with tears.
"The only thing we can do, really. We stay calm. And in the meantime, we get out the old D.A. coins and schedule an emergency meeting. With all the staff holed up in Dumbledore's office, no one will be able to punish us for breaking curfew. Please excuse me."
"Where are you going, mate?" asked Ron.
"I'm going to activate my Galleon. Then I'm going to send Sanguine to trustworthy members from each house to have them rouse everyone they can."
"What about the Grey Knight? Should we contact him, too?"
Harry paused on his way up the stairs. "Yes. I'll send a note along to him, too. But I'll use Pigwidgeon, if you don't mind. Hedwig and Sanguine are too conspicuous and I think we at least owe him the civility of trying to keep his identity a secret."
"No problem, mate. Shall we start heading to the Room of Requirement?"
"I guess so. Tell Hermione and Ginny to bring every spell and defensive charm they've developed, and bring along all your escape plans. We'll want to cover everything we possibly can."
The morning of the 31st dawned with the sun peeking out from behind grey clouds and sparkling on the dew-ridden grass. The members of Dumbledore's Army met in the Entrance Hall with their hair awry from tossing and turning all night, their complexions washed out and their eyes beadily alert. They ate breakfast in shifts in the Great Hall, much to the curiosity of the staff, but declined to comment on their reasoning. Seven thirty rolled around and a note slipped itself through the cracks under the bolted front door. Neville Longbottom, appointed shift leader of the watching army, picked up the note and carried it immediately into the great hall to its addressee- one, Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards- as if there could have been another Albus Dumbledore that could have been mistaken for the intended recipient.
Albus sighed, put down his spoon and pushed his eggcup to the side. He opened the letter, scanned it briefly, nodded to Harry, and the two of them swept from the Hall into the side chamber that had once housed the ceremony for the weighing of the Triwizard Champions' wands.
"Young Mr. Weasley was right, Harry," Albus conceded. "Voldemort has hoodwinked Madam Hooch and Professor Luenebraum into believing that he has captured their parents. Madam Hooch and Professor Luenebraum were married over the Christmas Holidays, much like yourself and Miss Weasley, thus why they left together. They are now tied to stakes just beyond the front gates and Voldemort awaits my response to his demands."
Harry swallowed thickly. "What are his demands?"
"That I surrender you and your wife to him by noon tomorrow."
"And if you don't?"
"Then he will kill them."
"One today and one tomorrow, isn't it, Albus?" Harry asked, the color draining from his face.
"I'm afraid so."
"What are we going to do?"
"We go to the gates. We don't leave, but we go to speak with Voldemort and his followers. If we have any luck we will somehow be able to make contact with Bertram and Helen. They were members of the Order, so they know about the prophecy and they know how important you and Ginny are to the fight against Voldemort."
"So you're saying that we leave it up to them? That if they tell us to let them die we'll do it? Albus, how could you?"
"It's not something I want to do, Harry, please understand this. All of my staff and the entire Order know that their very lives may be at stake for siding with me.
"Put yourself in their shoes, Mr. Potter. If you and young Ginevra had been ransomed, but your captor would give you up for a trade of Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, would you do it?"
"Never!" Harry cried. "I would rather die than have that happen to Ron and Hermione!"
"You understand, then, that Bertram and Helen would feel the same way?"
"I—" Harry was stuck, but he had no choice. "I understand, sir. I understand it, but I will never accept it."
Albus nodded and smiled sadly. "Yes, Harry. Understanding and acceptance are two very different things, and all I can ask of you at this time is understanding. I would never dream of asking for your acceptance."
They returned to the Great Hall and walked purposefully towards the exit. They were halfway across the grounds before they realized that almost the entire school was trailing along behind them. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione were running ahead to catch up.
"What's going on, Harry?" Ginny asked, breathless.
Albus wordlessly handed her the ransom note Voldemort had delivered, and her face drained of color before brightening to match her hair as her tiny frame filled with rage.
"Prophecy or not," she spat, "I'll kill him myself."
They arrived at the gates while the staff half-heartedly attempted to get the students to return to the castle. An unnamable Death Eater stepped toward the gate to address them.
"So, Dumbledore, have you decide to comply with our Lord's most reasonable offer?"
"Don't do it, Albus!" Madam Hooch screamed.
"Shut up, wench!" another Death Eater snapped.
He stepped toward her stake and struck her hard across the face. Professor Luenebraum struggled in his bindings, screaming hopeless curses at the man who had clouted his wife. Harry could see their snapped wands lying useless at their feet.
"I thought we told you to keep your mouth shut?" the Death Eater said to Madam Hooch.
Madam Hooch's only reply was to spit blood in his face. The Death Eater, ("It's Crabbe!" Hermione hissed,) wiped his chin with his robes and turned to the man at the gates.
"This bitch goes first," he demanded.
"Yes, yes, whatever," the leader said indifferently with a wave of his hand. "Well, Dumbledore, what is your decision?"
Harry felt a flash inside his head and he saw Dumbledore straighten- he must have seen it, too. Soon he heard Bertram's voice, speaking as though he was standing right between them.
"Hold your ground, Albus. We knew what could happen when we joined you, and we don't regret that decision. Don't do anything rash on our account. Helen and I have been honored that you called us friends. We gladly die in your service.
"Harry… hold on. Remember everything we talked about. This is your fight, no one else's. Get him for us, Harry. I believe in you."
Harry had tears running down his face, but he nodded all the same. The lead Death Eater at the gate seemed to have interpreted their silence as the inability to make a decision.
"I'll make you an offer, Dumbledore," he said arrogantly. "We'll give you twenty four hours to make your decision. Tomorrow. Twelve O'clock. You return here and make your decision. Either you hand over Potter and Ginevra, and your friends go free, or you don't, and they die.
"Twenty four hours, old man. We'll be back."
There was a loud pop and the leader disappeared, leaving his subordinates to side-apparate away with the hostages as they screamed for Harry and Albus not to fall for the trick.
One could say that for the next twenty-four hours the castle barely slept, but it would be an inaccurate truth. If one takes into account that most of its inhabitants were walking around in a zombie-like stupor, it could be considered that they slept the next day away. Just before noon on June first, the members of the school that hadn't been evacuated made their way to the front gates where they found Lord Voldemort himself waiting for them.
"How kind of you to join us, Albus," Voldemort hissed with a bow. "And young Harry, too, my heart just quivers with pleasure!"
"You don't have a heart, Tom," Ginny said lowly, her wand raised.
Voldemort's hand gave what seemed to be an almost involuntary twitch towards his wand, but he let it lie.
"Ah, I see the young Mrs. Potter has decided to grace us with her presence as well. How kind of you."
"Enough, Tom," Dumbledore sighed. "You wanted to speak with us, so we are here. Say your piece and leave."
"Yes, yes, but you already know why I'm here, Dumbledore. I will return your Dark Arts Professor and your Flying Instructor to you if you hand over Potter and his wife."
"And you expect me believe that you'll honor this agreement, yes?" Dumbledore asked.
"You have my word, Headmaster."
"Then you will understand when I leave the decision to Professor Luenebraum and his wife. Harry and Ginny have expressed it to be their wishes that if Bertram and Helen wish to be freed they will willingly take their places."
Harry saw Voldemort flinch slightly. "Well, then, what say you?" he asked his prisoners. "Do you wish to be freed? Luenebraum, will you have Harry take your place?"
"No," Bertram said, firmly. "There will be no trade. As much as it may seem otherwise, in this case one life does not equal another. I pledge my life to Harry, and if this is the way it is to be claimed then so be it."
"I see," Voldemort nodded, his eyes narrowing to almost imperceptible slits. "And you, Hooch—"
"My name is Luenebraum, now, Voldemort."
"Of course," Voldemort bowed gracefully. "How thoughtless of me. Madam Luenebraum, what of your decision? Will you have Mrs. Potter take your place?"
"Never," Madam Luenebraum replied crisply. "I won't allow you to kill Ginny, even if only for the reason that she is the most brilliant female Quidditch player I've ever seen. It would be a shame to deny her the chance to play professionally where I never could."
Ginny choked back a sob at her tutor's compliment and Voldemort turned his gaze upon her briefly before turning back to the flying instructor.
"Never, Madam? And what if I gave you my express word that Mrs. Potter would not be harmed, and would be allowed to play Quidditch if her heart so desired it? That, in fact, Mrs. Potter would be allowed to do whatever she wished, so long as she remained in my care?"
Ginny bit her lip and looked pleadingly to Harry and then through the gate to Madam Luenebraum. Harry heart dropped to his stomach, its beat seeming to stop in its tracks as he waited. He had no say over Ginny's decision. As much as he loved her, if she willingly went into Voldemort's arms he couldn't stop her. Granted, he would fight Voldemort there, on the spot to the death, to get her back, but Ginny's life was Ginny's life. He had no ownership of her.
Madam Luenebraum raised her chin, resting her head on the stake she was bound to, and looked to the sky. In a minute that seemed to go on forever, she made her decision and lowered her head to look in Ginny's eyes.
"If there is one thing I have learned through my faithful service to Albus, and, consequentially, to Harry- it is never to make deals with murderers. My answer is the same, Voldemort- NEVER."
Voldemort kept his expression neutral as he walked to where Harry was standing behind the gate. "I hope you're happy, Mr. Potter," he said softly, and his next words seemed to be for Harry's ears alone. "Two more lives will be put on your conscience today."
With a sharp motion he flicked his wand upwards, invoking the final incantations. In two flashes of violent green light, Bertram Luenebraum and his new wife, Helen, were no more.
Voldemort turned back to Harry, his expression hard. "You had your chance, Potter."
"You're wrong," Harry replied, coldly, his eyes stinging with unwelcome tears. "This isn't over, Tom. You won't get away with this."
The air was filled with an evil sound- the sound of Voldemort's cruel laughter. "Oh, that was good, Mr. Potter, very good. But you see, I find a certain flaw in your logic."
"Oh? And what's that?"
"I just did get away with it."