Posted 11/22/2014
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This is a work of fiction, based on the book series by J.K. Rowling. Neither do I claim ownership nor do I intend to.
Chapter Fifty-Eight - Setbacks and Challenges
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The next day began unusually tense in Number Twelve. Weasley had had a restless night, dreaming about something, but refusing to elaborate. Daphne had a feeling he had dreamed about something either truly horrifying or, if his looks at anything but Granger were any indication, her. The Muggleborn girl on the other hand had slept little in the previous nights, Daphne knew, and had instead watched like a hawk over her injured friend or researched some elements of healing magic in the hope of helping Harry. Now that he was doing considerably better, she had likely gotten a good sleep. She certainly looked far more rested than Daphne would have expected, but she also seemed to dread whatever hardship lay ahead of them.
Harry had, as far as she could tell, slept rather well. After tucking him in, she had watched for a while, but when he hadn't started trashing around or looking uncomfortable, she had left for her own room. Seeing him well again had done a lot of good for her.
But although most of the inhabitants of the house had slept well, there was an odd sense of anticipation and foreboding. It took Daphne a while to understand, but once she had realized what it was, she couldn't believe she had missed it before. Over the last few days, everyone had been rightfully worried about Harry. But now that he was doing better, the other problems demanded attention once more. Daphne was still faced with preparing for her revenge; Weasley and Granger were unhappy with Harry's attacks; everyone had become astutely aware of the change in the relationships among them, but unwilling to voice their thoughts. Weasley was still not happy about Daphne's presence, the truce with Granger had solidified, but mostly because of their shared worry over Harry.
Shortly before lunch, Granger returned from a shopping trip, storming into the kitchen. Daphne looked up from her book.
"Harry's not around then?" Granger asked.
"Not that I can see," Daphne replied. "He said something about needing to think."
"I did," he spoke up, coming down the stairs behind Granger. Weasley followed, looking longingly at the bag Granger was carrying.
"Well, good," Granger began, "I needed to show you something." She put the bags down, reaching into one and pulling two newspapers out. It took Daphne a moment to notice the moving pictures on one.
"Let's start with this," Granger said, handing Harry the other paper and tapping a spot on it. While he was still reading, she told him, "It's getting worse. The Muggles still have no idea about what is causing all of the trouble, but this here..."
"'No reports of the outbreak'," Harry quoted with a glance at Granger.
"Yes, exactly. Now, they wouldn't have seen anything, of course, but..."
"A dozen brain-dead," Harry agreed. "And now they're thinking about closing down schools and other public meeting places for the foreseeable future."
"In hopes to keep the illness contained, yes," Granger agreed. "But it won't work, will it? And it will further restrict public life without accomplishing anything. The Dementors will continue to feast on the Muggles, so all that this will do is frustrate people into seeing the Government as incompetent. It's destabilizing the Muggle world. And there's this. She turned a page, tapping another spot."
"'Riots in Birmingham'," Harry read aloud.
"And you know it won't be the last," Granger interjected.
Harry continued. "'Following the sudden outbreak of the still unknown illness in the Queen Elizabeth Hospital early Monday morning that left thirteen people unresponsive, the outcry turned violent. ... looting ... over two hundred arrests ...'"
"The Muggle government is losing control," Granger added. "The longer it goes on, the more the Muggles will be at each other's throats. Worse, the more victims there are, the worse it will become when the Government can't tell them what is going on. 'Invisible, magical beasts are doing it' won't really work, will it? Anyone who knows what's going on will keep quiet, so all of this will be remembered as a strange illness. So they'll stick to the best explanation they can give that the Muggles would actually believe and advise people to avoid public places. That way, not only is the number of fictims smaller, but they'll have an easier time covering it all up."
"And our Ministry will probably never admit it's our doing, so it'll forever be remembered as the strange illness of '97 and '98," Harry added.
"The next one might," Weasley spoke up. "Once the war is over, whoever will be Minister might take responsibility."
"Maybe, maybe not," Hermione argued. "But we've got more urgent problems right now." She ripped the newspaper from Harry's hands and handed him the wizarding paper. He seemed to have noticed immediately what article Granger meant.
"Well, that's bad, I guess," he agreed. Seeing Weasley looking curiously at him, he shrugged. "They're reporting my run-in now. 'Respected citizen cowardly attacked,' as if." While Granger and Weasley exchanged worried looks, Harry read. Finally, he put the paper down. "Well, it's pretty accurate, I think. Some minor details are wrong but other than that, it's true."
"There is nothing to guess about it, Harry," Granger told him with a glare. "I know it says three attackers, but it's the Daily Prophet. The many similarities just mean they're trying to spread misleading information. The important part is this - witness reports, Harry. You were seen. Someone saw you, and if someone saw you, they'll have memories to show and have the Ministry dissect. Also, this part. 'This attack on an upstanding family is undeniable proof of the terrorists' determination and ruthlessness. We will not rest until we've brought them to justice.'"
"Yeah, good luck with that, I say," Harry chuckled. "They won't catch me, so it's not a problem."
Granger rubbed her eyes. "And did you perhaps also notice that article here?" She tapped a spot. "'Arrest of suspected insurgents. During a house search following an anonymous tip, evidence was discovered indicating subversive leanings of a family of three. During a violent attempt to resist her arrest, Mrs. Chang was killed. Her husband and daughter await trial for...' Chang. It's about Cho's family, Harry."
"It's possible Cho said something she shouldn't have," Harry cautioned.
"She probably did, but don't you see? The Ministry's taking action. Cho saying something, yes, her doing something... No, I can't see that. I think those two incidents are linked; that your failed attack resulted in the Ministry putting its power behind catching you."
"They won't, though," Harry replied, shrugging.
"And others have to pay for it," Granger pointed out. Daphne couldn't help but agree with that. "They weren't really kind to dissenters before; you've given them reason to cart anyone off, even those who have nothing to do with us. As long as they're in Ministry custody, Cho and her father and all of the other political prisoners are hostages, Harry."
"So they're taking Harry seriously now?" Weasley asked.
"About time, I think," Harry answered with a nod. "Failed or not, the Ministry forced into taking action means they're getting nervous. The longer they don't succeed, the more my plan will work." He put the paper down, and Daphne picked it up.
The article was indeed easy to find. Even without knowing who Harry had intended to attack originally, the large picture of a forlorn, gaunt man left little doubt. She recognized Theodore's father easy enough. She got as far as the list of victims when she had to put the paper down and covertly wiped the tears from her eyes as the face of Victoria Nott swam in front of her eyes. Victoria Nott, the intelligent, helpful seventh-year Daphne had met when she had been new at Hogwarts. Whereas Theodore liked his conspiracy theories, Victoria had been a prodigy at Runes. Daphne didn't quite know what she had done after school, but felt the girl she had met wouldn't have become evil. Slytherin or not, Victoria had had all the makings of a Ravenclaw, especially the thirst for knowledge, and little to nothing of the cunning usually expected of Slytherins. Maybe her ambitions had led to her wearing green and silver, Daphne guessed, but she wouldn't have become evil.
And now, Victoria had died at the hands of Harry. It was the first time Daphne had truly known the victim. Macnair was some man she could trust Harry's judgement on. If Harry said MacNair had been bad news, then Daphne didn't have to question it. Szarka had been nothing but a name. Harry had investigated him and had come to the decision that he was a danger. Both times, Daphne hadn't had to think about it. Both times, she had been happy to not think about it.
The Notts were something else. Daphne had met Mr. Nott. Whether she had liked the man or not, she could put a face to the name. Whether she had liked the man or not, she knew someone who would be affected by the death. Worse, Theodore had also lost his stepmother and sister as well. And then there was Theodore's little brother Marcus to think about.
"... do about it now," Harry said, drawing Daphne's attention.
"The Ministry has offered a large bounty on your head," Granger told him. "It's a bit worse than not being able to do anything about it, Harry. They saw your attacks as a challenge of their power."
"Well, they aren't completely wrong about that, are they?" Weasley asked. "Isn't that what you wanted? Isn't that what you were going for?"
"Not quite," Harry disagreed. "It was Riddle I had hoped would get the message. But I guess I can settle for the Ministry for now." He shrugged, carelessly waving at the paper. "This article has made up my mind, though. The Nott incident was a debacle. The people might think I'm not invincible."
"You aren't," Granger interrupted before Daphne could.
"Now they have proof I'm not," Harry corrected his previous statement. "Before, I was a faceless mass of attackers, now they know I'm only human and that I can be stopped with enough determination. That's not good at all. And if you're correct about the memories, that someone saw me, they'll only need to check to know there was only one attacker to suspect I'm working alone instead of in a team. The last attack has failed. Nott's death won't intimidate them as much as I had hoped. Worse, it might have given them some confidence that they might catch me one day."
"They might," Weasley agreed. "Maybe you should stop before something worse happens."
"I agree," Daphne found herself saying. "That plan of yours... hasn't it failed now?" Weasley sent her a glare for speaking up – or for agreeing with him? Daphne wasn't sure – while Granger nodded hesitantly. "You tried it. You managed to buy yourself some weeks – maybe. Maybe you achieved nothing and your enemies wouldn't have acted even if you'd left them in peace. But maybe this was a warning. You could stop now before... before they catch you. Or before you're seen again."
Harry frowned, thinking. "It has failed, you say. A failure? Is that what you think? I did achieve something, I hope. I successfully distracted the Ministry, tying up their forces so they can't come down too hard on others. That's not failure. Hermione, apart from me, you know the most about this. What do you think? Has it failed already?"
She hesitated, glancing first at Weasley who nodded, then at Daphne who pursed her lips, trying not to feel hurt that Harry disregarded her input. A moment later, she realized it had been the first time Granger had looked to her for something like guidance or her opinion. While the Muggleborn hadn't asked for it, she had obviously taken Daphne's words into account.
"Greengrass has a point," Granger said, weighing her words carefully. "You tried it. You might have managed to delay You-Know-Who's advance. Every time you go out, every time you act is a risk, and every time, you have to decide whether the intended result is worth it. And of course, Ron is also right. If you continue with it, your luck will run out one day. You might be lucky once or twice or twenty times, but each time, there's a risk of them closing in on you. Each time you act, you risk leaving them clues. Each time, you leave them a piece of the puzzle. One day, they'll start seeing more than just the parts they have. One day, they'll see the pattern." She glanced around the room once more. "I don't think it has failed yet, but... it's worth a thought to quit while you're still ahead. You've made your point. They know they aren't invincible. If you want to continue, though..." She broke off, pursing her lips.
Whatever she hadn't said, Harry seemed to have understood. He nodded. "You've told me little I didn't know already," he told them. "I'm not ready to call it quits yet. Not like that. Not after one setback. I haven't failed yet – until I accept it as fact, I'm not done yet."
"Setback, he says," Weasley grumbled. "Really? Almost dying on us is a setback to you?"
"It's either calling it quits or continuing what I've done so far," Harry explained. "The last of my attacks shouldn't be a failure, though. I don't want them thinking I've given up. No, I'll continue. I'll have to do at least one more attack, just so I end it on my own terms rather than quit. We still have your plan," he said to Granger. "All I'll have to do is find a new mark. And this time, I'll have to make up for lost ground. A challenge, the Ministry says? Challenge accepted."
"They think you challenged them, though," Weasley interrupted, "not the other way around."
"Doesn't matter as far as I'm concerned," Harry said, waving his friend's words aside. "They think they know me. They don't. They think they can figure it out. They can't – if I'm doing it right, that is. This time, I'll just have to show them they can't stop me."
"Easier said than done," Granger told him. "What, do you want to kill the Minister himself?"
"Tempting," Harry chuckled. "It's the best idea so far. Would you help me with that?"
"I... Harry, that's not what... I mean, that is something completely... I... A joke, Harry." She ran a hand through her hair in desperation. "The Minister isn't just well-protected. He'll have the best protection the Ministry can offer."
"If you trying to talk me out of it, you're doing a bad job," Harry pointed out. "All you do is make him sound like an even better target."
"It's impossible," Weasley spoke up with a meaningful look at his friends. "It can't be done."
"Surviving the Killing Curse is also said to be impossible. Half of the things we did at school are thought to be impossible. Nineteen months ago, we broke into the Ministry without any preparation or plan. We simply strolled in without anything stopping us; we pretty much invaded the Ministry itself. Bypassing the best protection the Ministry can offer should be child's play compared to that."
"Still, what you're suggesting... no, not suggesting, planning, is a whole new level of..." she broke off, shrugging awkwardly. "A whole new level of hostility."
"I'm aware. It'd require a lot of planning, but the Ministry made it sound like they were challenging me – that they'd catch me sooner or later, that they're somehow better than me. Frankly, I'd loved to sit back for a while and do nothing right now apart from healing, but after the botched attempt, well, I need to make a statement. It should be a show of power. Soon, probably, to let them know I'm still up and running." He scratched his chin. "Well, not the Minister, perhaps," he mused. "Thicknesse is an idiot. When push comes to shove, I doubt many will really listen to him. Who knows who'd be called in as the replacement?"
"That's your concern right now?" Daphne asked while Weasley only gaped at his friend. "A show of power, you say. Wiping out a family was a botched attempt to you," she pointed at the paper, feeling the righteous anger finally rising in her. "So what do you plan now? Butchering a Department? Burning down some Death Eater's home, torching a family?"
He looked at her, almost as if he didn't understand her concerns. However, she knew he did. She knew him well enough to know he still understood right and wrong, and she hoped he hadn't lost his mind.
"What's it matter to you?" Weasley spat with a glare out of the corner of his eye.
Daphne ignored Granger and Harry's hissed warnings at him and sent Weasley a glare of her own. "It matters to me, Weasley," she told him, her voice deceptively calm, "because I happen to have known Victoria personally. It matters to me because Harry is talking about killing people again as if his actions had no impact. They also affect our year mate Theodore Nott, who lost his father and sister. They affect Marcus Nott, their youngest son, who is now orphaned."
"And Chang lost her mother to one of those raids," Weasley countered, pointing to the Daily Prophet.
"I'm aware," Daphne replied. "I don't know what happened, but I did know Victoria well enough to know she shouldn't have died. To you, she might have been nothing more than a botched attempt; to me, she was the seventh-year who tutored me on occasion in our first year. If you count Mrs. Nott as well, then Harry killed three innocents already, maybe four. Only three of the eight victims were intended. Isn't that right, Harry?"
"I hadn't intended for Nott to die already, but yes," he agreed.
"That's a pretty bad quota there." Daphne straightened slightly. "So excuse me for getting worried if Harry thinks a show of power is the right way to go. Excuse me for worrying he might go overboard. And excuse me for being bothered when it affects people I know and care about."
Weasley blushed at being confronted, but he held her gaze until Harry cleared his throat.
"I don't intend to make a habit of causing collateral damage," he said, glancing around the room, from Weasley who shook his head in disbelief to a Granger who was likewise in deep thought, to Daphne who waited impatiently for him to answer her original question. "I'll have to be more careful in the future. However, the Nott incident wasn't only my doing. It simply got out of control. What should have been a scouting mission led to something unintended. Someone had put up some rather brilliant wards. They cornered me. When they wanted to interrogate me before I could make an escape, Nott recognized me. I met him in the Ministry at the end of fifth year, so he knew who I was. I had to make sure he couldn't expose me. Four on one took the option of erasing his memory." He sent Daphne a sad smile, and she understood he had tried to apologize for considering obliviation despite their shared dislike of it. "It came down to him or me. Nott, an unknown man who might have intervened and seemed to know how to fight, a wife who might have indirectly caused my exposure... and the daughter, who tried to call reinforcements. I'm sorry; I truly am," Harry told her. "I can't see how I could have succeeded otherwise, but I'm not proud of it."
Unsure of what to think of it, Daphne pushed the matter aside for the time being. "The right statement, then?" Daphne repeated, pursing her lips in dislike. She knew what she wanted to say, but didn't think it would really do any good. "What do you want to tell the world? What do you have in mind?"
"Well, I'm not quite sure yet. Something big, I guess. Something thought to be impossible." While he was talking, there was a glimmer in his eyes – the beginnings of a plan, Daphne guessed. "We do have an idea of how to do it," Harry said, glancing to Granger. "I'll have to think about who it should be. The Minister might work in theory, but as I've already pointed out, Thicknesse is an idiot. Better a crowned fool than a smart general. No, it should be someone else. In any case, I'll have to act soon."
"Not alone," Daphne spoke up hesitantly, but she wasn't alone – Granger had said the same. It was an odd moment for sure, as both stared at each other in surprise, unsure of what to make of the unexpected concurrence.
Weasley was the first to recover. He glared at Daphne, his suspicions once more clear for everyone to read. "Oh yeah? What, think you can just walk out of here, huh? That Harry would take you with him? That he'd need your help or something?"
"Actually," Daphne interrupted, "Harry is still recovering. It might take a while until he's back at full strength, so having someone with him to help is a good idea. Granger seems to agree. And she's the logical choice, actually."
Harry blinked. "Err, I'm not..."
"She is," Daphne insisted. "Granger already knows how you act. She would be involved in your planning either way, so she'll know what to do and expect. Weasley would suspect foul play if I joined you, so I'll stay here. That leaves Granger and Weasley. Unless he's more skilled than he lets on, she'll be the better choice if things get out of hand again. In fact, she is the logical choice."
The smile Granger sent Daphne looked horribly forced, but the gesture was still there. They were once more united by a shared interest – keeping Harry from getting in trouble. Even though she had mixed feelings about it, Daphne knew Harry would leave for the next attack as soon as he could. In fact, she could even understand his reasoning even if she didn't like it. And between Harry's friends, Granger was the more reliable one.
Ron chose that moment to kick the table. However, all it did was hurt his foot and cause him to curse violently.
"Ron, honestly," Hermione reprimanded him, but she walk over to guide him into a chair.
"Another fun, fun, fun project for the two of you, then?" he growled.
Rolling his eyes, Harry sighed and turned to Granger. "Would you help me? It's more than you originally offered, and I won't force you. I could do something without your help, I guess, and I have an idea that I've wanted to work out that might be what I'm looking for. It'd take a while to work out the kinks, though, so my best bet is your suggestion."
"An idea?" Granger asked, raising an eyebrow. "One of yours? Judging by what you came up with in the past, that's worrying. No," she sighed, shaking her head. "No. I said I'd stand by you. And anyway, who else would you ask for help, if not me? If you really want to act soon, the plan we have lying around is your best bet – it's already halfway done anyway, so why not? In for a penny, in for a pound. Fine, the next time you leave, I'll keep an eye on you."
The following day, Harry and Hermione were no closer to a solution than before.
"This is getting nowhere," she sighed. "So, we'll do the poison attack, then."
"Yes, and soon," Harry agreed, but she cut off his next words.
"I know, I know. Within the next few days, but that doesn't leave us that much time for anything. As for Connerly, Decker, and Donovan, you have investigated them in the past, right?"
"Yeah, their protections aren't that hard to overcome. They're morons, but neither of them has that much pull in society. Decker wouldn't be missed or noticed – there are dozens of crooks out there and hardly anyone would care much about some guard," Harry agreed. "Connerly is past her prime anyway. Unless I leave her body dangling in Diagon Alley, it'd be far too easy to make it look like a natural death. Well, I guess I could announce it, but..."
"Not Connerly and Donovan, I think," Hermione spoke up. "What about Whitmore? Or Cummings?" She indicated a piece of parchment. "From what you wrote, they are both still active."
"Active, yes," Harry reminded her, "essential? Not so much. Whitmore does business without caring much who it is, but others are much the same. Cummings? Yeah, criminal record and all, but I doubt many people will care much about some embezzlement."
"I care," Hermione told him, raising an eyebrow.
"Not many care much about magical creatures," Harry added with a roll of his eyes. "Sketchy business? Yes. Impact? Not so much. It's not like he had killed anyone. Weren't you the one going on about this being a whole new dimension?"
"Well, fine," she sighed. "I say Cummings. From what your notes indicate, he'd do a lot to get ahead. He's slowly working his way up, and if he's as easily bought as you said..."
"He is," Harry laughed. "He'd probably send an orphanage to the slaughterhouse if he'd get the right price per pound."
"I say Cummings," Hermione repeated. "One less possible traitor in the Department of Law Enforcement. One less willing helper to get some formalities out of the way. And you did write that his security is outdated and simplistic."
"Half an hour and I'd be done, yes. I'm not sure, though. I thought someone with a little more influence. Someone a bit more public and recognizable."
"She's out of reach," Hermione broke in, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "You won't go after Umbridge. Not until you're ready, and certainly not until you are fully healed. This is risky enough as it is. I wouldn't be surprised if she had a direct connection to the Ministry to call in some Aurors. Not Umbridge, Harry."
"Borgin then," he tried. "If we take away their most trusted dealer..."
"He's well-known, yes," Hermione agreed, "and getting him shouldn't be that much of a problem in theory, not with him constantly being in his store. But don't forget – whatever can go wrong, will inevitably go wrong. You tend to have the worst luck from time to time, which means you'll likely be seen, recognized, maybe even captured. Visiting a known sympathizer of the Death Eaters and major profiteer in a still bustling street..."
"I know enough secret entrances, though," Harry pointed out. "It worked once, it'll work twice."
"And I veto that idea, Harry. You won't leave without me, and I won't go after Borgin with you. It's that simple."
"Rookwood," he said, shrugging. "Former spy or not, he's a known Death Eater, he has fallen into a predictable schedule. He's one more possible leak within the Ministry, and he'll need to be dealt with eventually. A traitor to the Ministry? No, he'll have to pay some day, so why not now?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "I'm not convinced. Well, if your notes are correct, it might be possible to get him during his daily routine, yes."
"See," Harry interrupted, pointing to a spot on a parchment about the Death Eater, "he visits the same cafe every morning."
"Not every morning," Hermione argued, tapping another spot on the same parchment, "just on those days when Miss Busty is working." With a raised eyebrow, she added, "Miss Busty? Really, Harry?" When he shrugged, she continued, "Well, assuming you want to use that against him, you'd have to get him to swallow a pill in public. Not an easy feat."
"And if we shrink the capsule? Or use a switching spell or something similar? Replace some of the tea with the capsule? Or we could just use a compulsion charm and erase his memory afterwards."
When she couldn't think of a good counter-argument, Hermione nodded slowly. "It could work, yes. Tricky and some risks attached to it, though. So, Harry, Cummings or Rookwood? I say the former, you say the latter. Or maybe someone else?"
"Well, there are some secondary targets that I could go after on such short notice," he mused. "But that's not what I had in mind. Between the two of them, I'd still choose Rookwood, but I'm not that happy with it. He doesn't stand out that much. He's just one of the Death Eaters now."
"Not the right magnitude, yes, we've been over this already. You'll have to lower your standards for this one, though. I know you want to make it big and prove you're still very capable, but..."
"I know my options are limited," he sighed. "To be honest, I'd love to get Malfoy out of the way."
"Everyone knows you're at odds with him," Hermione interjected. "You might already be a prime suspect, depending on how much the eyewitnesses saw of you at the Notts. And Malfoy is rather well-protected, something you might not want to go against right now. It's the same as Umbridge. Worse, probably. As your resident healer, I forbid you from doing too much. Not until you're healed up, at least. Umbridge and Malfoy will have to wait. You'll have to accept your limits. You want to act soon? Fine, then you won't have free choice. Of course, you could always just wait a bit until I give you a clean bill of health and go for some of the higher-ups, but..."
"How long, Hermione?" he asked.
She blinked. "However long it may take. Getting you healed up has priority." After a moment of hesitation, she added, "How does it feel now?"
"It's still itching. A dull throb from time to time, and I want nothing more than to use the arm again."
"I know it's uncomfortably tight," she spoke up. "Where does it itch? Or throb?"
He frowned. "The wrist. The forearm."
"The upper arm is fine?"
"I guess so, yes," Harry replied. "Just itching to be used. It's like the muscles are screaming at me to stretch them. Oh, and kind of hot and sticky, but that's probably due to the bandages and less about the healing itself."
He watched Hermione for a moment, distracting himself from the left arm by opening and closing his right hand – the movement his left wasn't able to.
"Look," Hermione said with a sigh, "how about a compromise? I'll run a few diagnostic spells on the arm right now to get an idea of what is going on, but I'd prefer keeping the bandages for the moment. If things look decent tomorrow, we'll have a look at your upper arm. If that looks fine, we'll continue and see just how far it has healed already."
After getting a nod from him, she cast her spells. Some Harry recognized, others were unknown to him. Then again, neither Harry nor Voldemort had ever truly looked into the healing arts.
"It seems fine so far," Hermione spoke up after a while of contemplation.
"Tomorrow, then," Harry said.
"That's what I can offer you. We'll see how it's tomorrow." After a moment of silence, she continued, "So, Cummings? Rookwood? Or someone else?"
Harry leaned back. Cummings would be quite easy, but not the right magnitude. Rookwood would be closer to what Harry had in mind, but relied on chance and a bit more scouting. "Arthurus Melvin perhaps? Like Cummings, he might become a problem later on, but a lot of his shady dealings aren't public knowledge."
"And he's in bad health and out of the public eye," Hermione pointed out.
Harry heard her, but he didn't answer. A new idea had come to him. "Why choose in the first place?" he wondered. "Cummings doesn't have the right impact. Melvin and many of the secondary targets are much the same. Rookwood is better, but still just one of many. But didn't the Ministry say I declared war on the wizarding world as a whole? Well, I showed I can get past their protections. I showed I don't mind some blood. Why not show them I'm not limited to single hits? Why not a day of reckoning? Cummings, some of the secondary marks, Rookwood... a trail of bodies, you know? All poisoned without a hint of who did it. That way, I wouldn't have to worry about the impact of any single death. It'd be the sum instead."
"I," she began, paling. "That's not the kind of compromise I had in mind for this attack."
"It should work, though," Harry replied, smiling easily. "I could pick people with severely lacking protections..."
"A pattern for the Ministry to figure out, Harry. If you go after people who aren't well-protected at home, someone might notice the connection."
"So I'll throw some in who are better at it. Rookwood," he tapped the parchment about the man, "that Kent," he pointed at another parchment. "Even if no one would mourn for a lawyer, if she's yet another victim of a killing spree, she might still get some recognition. And as long as I don't try attacking her in her home..."
"Easier said than done," Hermione mused.
"Or not. I'd just have to visit her office or something. Same as Rookwood – as long as they have to interact with the public, I shouldn't have that much of a problem getting to her. Throw in some easy targets I can hit at night and we're set."
"Throw in some... how many are we talking about right now, Harry?" she asked with a worried expression.
"You'd get angry if I said, 'The more, the merrier,' right?" he chuckled. "A few, Hermione. Rookwood at least. Death Eater who has to be dealt with sooner or later. Cummings works fine for this plan, and it could hide the fact that we're clearing our path. Kent, if I can get her, otherwise someone else. Melvin has too many visitors to do thorough checks. The weak link might be the healer or one of the people coming to visit," he said, indicating a rough outline he had made after one of his outings. "Sneaking in with them, having them give the capsule, leaving before it's too late. And apart from those I already listed, we should go after some others to have more of an impact. How about we don't worry about the number right now? What do you think of the general idea?"
"I think," she spoke up with a frown, but a sudden explosion and a yell from downstairs interrupted her. Their eyes met before Hermione got up with another sigh. "I'll go check on Ron. How about we stop right here for now and wait until after dinner? Can't be that long now. You get Greengrass, I deal with Ron, we'll meet up. It'll give us some time to clear our heads."
It didn't take long to find Daphne. One quick spell revealed three others in the house – one – likely Ron – was downstairs with Hermione heading his way, the third was upstairs and in the training room.
When he entered, he found Daphne shifting from one stance into the next. All around her, the floor was littered with feathers, and a small flock of birds circled around the room. In the corner, the remains of a dummy were still present.
A quick cutting curse tore into the birds, scattering most, but one fell to the ground, missing a wing. Daphne followed it up with a vanishing spell, but paid dearly for it – another bird had circled around and hit her in the back of her head.
Harry watched for a while. She had improved a lot since their first duel, he noticed. He couldn't be sure whether she'd make much use of conjuration in an actual fight, but her aim had gotten very good indeed. She had also worked on general awareness, which, guessing from the short glance in his his direction the moment he had fully stepped into the room, meant that she kept track of her surroundings far better than she had that first day. He doubted his sneak attack with the snowball would work any more.
Fed up after a number of missed spells, Daphne caused a breeze around the room. While the birds managed to stay in the air, she had managed to blow them into a corner. With another swish, she sent a flurry of spells after them until only two were still around and easy to pick off.
"Not a bad showing you did there," Harry spoke up, seeing her smile slightly at his compliment.
"Thanks. I thought you were with Granger?"
"Dinner's close," he told her. "So we split up. She's getting Ron, I'm getting you."
"Ah." Not knowing what else to say, she started vanishing the feathers.
"I might also get rid of the bandages tomorrow," he added. "About time, if you ask me."
"No," she said, frowning. "Or maybe yes. I don't know." When she noticed his puzzled silence, she explained, "Yes, it's something you might want. I can imagine how much it bothers you."
"But you'd rather I'd had it a bit longer?" he guessed.
"It's a reminder," she answered. "I know I shouldn't think like that, but... Look, I knew Victoria. She was decent. She helped people because it was the right thing to do. She wanted to do something in her life. Now she's dead because of you. That bandage is a reminder, I keep thinking, a reminder so you won't forget her. I keep thinking you should... I don't know."
"I already said I'm sorry it had come to that," Harry pointed out, "and I am."
"I don't doubt that. And I know what you meant when you said it was either them or you. It's a tough choice to make. You or them? Logically speaking, it'd be five lives against one, only it isn't. It's five lives or keeping your secret." She sighed, running her left hand through her hair. "You or them? I asked myself that last night. You or them? I want to say 'You', but..." Her eyes went to a spot somewhere over his shoulder. "I know you. I think I know what you're capable of. If you are as good as I suspect, wouldn't there have been another way? Stunning them, keeping Mr. Nott from talking with an oath or something? You said you had no other options left. I want to believe you. So, part of me wants to say 'You', but then I see myself in their shoes. Someone's caught sneaking around their home. Suddenly, spells are flying. What would I have done? What would I have done if it had been me instead of Mrs. Nott? Would I have run? Or would I have tried to help my husband? Cowardice or courage? Self-preservation or love?"
Harry watched as she idly vanished another feather that was drifting past her shoes.
"Did you know? He had remarried." Daphne glanced at him, and he shook his head. "Victoria and Theodore, they're from his first wife. She died when they were still young – way before Hogwarts. She must've been a very loving mother. Victoria turned out very well, Theodore not so much. Maybe he simply lacked the guidance his sister got from their parents. Lost at a critical age, you know?
"And now, it's just Theodore and Marcus. He's five, Harry."
"I know," Harry sighed. "I did my research. I know about Marcus."
"And now he's orphaned – by you. Wonder what'll happen to him now."
"Are you trying to make me feel guilty?" he asked with a slight edge in his voice.
Blinking, she shook her head. "Not really. Look, I know... No, not know. I feel you did what you think was right. But I can't help but think about what happened. Would I have protected a husband I loved? I think so. And I see myself in Victoria's place, and I know I wouldn't abandon my father. I can't fault her for fighting you."
"But you can fault me for fighting back? For not giving in?" he guessed, but she shook her head.
"It's... Macnair was evil, you said. Fine, so he was. I can tell myself that he got what he deserved. Szarka was a crook, you say. Fine, so he was, and he got what he deserved. I can tell myself that you knew what you were doing; I can ignore that nagging feeling and the voice telling me that neither had to die. Death is... People have lives and a future, hopes and dreams. People have loved ones, Harry."
"I know about loss," Harry replied in a level tone.
"I didn't mean... Look, all I meant was that deaths have an impact. Seeing and hearing you shrug and go on with your life as if nothing had happened is..." She broke off and sighed.
"Mr. Nott... I met him once. I can't say that I truly liked or disliked him, but he apparently organized those Snatchers, so he was either trying to get Muggleborns in trouble or used the opportunity to advance himself."
"He was a Death Eater," Harry told her with a nod, "so he had vowed at some point to fight for pureblood supremacy. And he didn't earn his place solely with his silver tongue."
"I'm willing to not think about him. Maybe he got what he deserved," Daphne explained. "But Mrs. Nott? Victoria? They didn't deserve it as far as I can tell. They did the right thing, protecting their loved ones, and keeping in mind what I assume about your talents, it makes your claim about doing what was necessary leave a very bad taste in my mouth. To you, they were little more than an obstacle. A hindrance and not a real challenge, I think. Can you look me in the eye and say that you had no choice? That you couldn't have done something differently? That you couldn't have run away? It might have ruined your reputation as the Chosen One and hero of the just and brave, maybe put and end to your killings, but little more."
He scratched his head. "Well, I understand what you're trying to say. Unfortunately, it's easy to say some other way might have existed. If I had known how it would turn out, I wouldn't have gotten myself in that situation. If I had known how they would react, I might have used other spells or might have tried a different approach. However, once Nott had recognized me, I had to make a choice. I chose. I'm sorry others got hurt in the process. That's also part of a war – things aren't simple. There was bound to be a time when it wasn't a choice between good and evil."
"Would be nice if it were," Daphne replied with a sad smile. Shaking her head, she added, "It's... no, not all right, but I understand – to a point, at least. Maybe I'll just need some time to come to terms with it. A bit of distance." She walked over to hug him, looking into his eyes for a moment to search for something in them. "You said you trusted me – that all that matters is the heart or something like that."
"I remember," Harry said with a chuckle.
"And I don't think you're a bad person," she told him, smiling slightly, "which makes it even more complicated, unfortunately."
Harry couldn't help the small smile of his own at hearing her repeat his words from weeks before. "So we're good?"
"I'll work it out for myself," Daphne spoke up, "but that's for me to do." She chuckled dejectedly. "This is war, isn't it? Necessary evils and all?" Then she leaned over and gave him a soft, short kiss.
Just then, Kreacher popped into the room. "Kreacher has come to tell Master dinner is ready and served." Glancing at the two – Daphne had jumped away at his arrival – he smiled at them. "Or dinner can wait for a while if Master wants to finish his business first?"
Pinching his the bridge of his nose, Harry waved him off. "We'll be down in a minute."
With a bow to both, Kreacher left with the house-elves' form of apparition.
"Well," Harry tried, unsure what to say.
"We should probably head down," Daphne offered, fighting down a faint blush. "Wouldn't want your friends to wait or worry."
"True," Harry agreed, suddenly remembering something important – Ron knew about the contract. "Err, there's something I should have told you before, but..."
Oh, that rascal Harry. Always up to mischief.
