Chapter 15: Attack on Riddle House
It was still the same day. It seemed like a long time ago that Kingsley Shacklebolt had apparated to the village square in Hogsmeade and taken custody of Sirius Black.
He ran a tired hand down his face. Black hadn't been the problem. They'd dosed Pettigrew as well. Kingsley had been told the truth by Dumbledore, or at least as much as Dumbledore knew, already, but that didn't make it easier to hear it from Pettigrew's own mouth. Kingley had called in every available Auror, and temporarily activated every trainee. Tonight was… well, there weren't exactly words for it. 'Big' didn't do it justice.
On the face of it, the mission was simple. Apparate everyone to a manor in Little Hangleton, kill a snake and whatever physical presence there may or may not be Voldemort. There were to be no prisoners. No capture alive. The Ministry had sanctioned a kill on sight mission. Nothing else had been deemed possible.
He'd just spent four hours planning the mission then briefing everyone. Every opportunity, every angle. Risk assessment and damage control. Every conceivable circumstance. It'd been draining. Auror Moody, Retired, had been recalled to share his knowledge, wisdom and expertise. Both Moody and Shacklebolt agreed that Moody should not go into the field. Moody regretfully acknowledged, in fact, suggested, that he'd be a liability. Shacklebolt gratefully accepted this admission. But that didn't make Moody any less detail-driven around the mission plan.
Kingsley took a breath and stepped into the room where every Auror was waiting.
"Apparate!"
There was silence when everyone arrived. The Aurors circled around the house. It was clearly derelict. It had a few slates missing, and a couple of windows were cracked. The house was dark, all except for one window upstairs on the North side. There were thirty two Aurors. Eleven took up positions outside, observing both in and out. There were five entries: front and back doors, conservatory and a broken window on the ground floor, and a balcony into what looked like the master bedroom upstairs. The remaining Aurors entered in groups of five.
Kingsley was part of the conservatory group. The lead Auror checked for traps then slipped inside silently. The other four followed. Every group's entry was simultaneous. Every Auror stopped to listen. The manor was silent. The group upstairs was tasked with securing a route from the master bedroom to the top of the staircase then to hold position. Kingsley heard silence from upstairs.
Kingsley's group swept from the conservatory to the bottom of the staircase. A quick look up allowed eye contact and a nod with Auror Williamson.
There was a spine chilling scream from the kitchen, back door ingress. Kingsley's team was closest. They ran. A second scream accompanied the sound of a blasting curse. Kingsley entered the kitchen first, in time to see an unbelievably large snake strike Auror Savage a second blow. Kingsley saw the man die. All five of his team, plus the four remaining members of Savage's team rained down hell on the snake. Everything bounced off. Auror Proudfoot died second, stepping in front of the snake's lunge at Auror Tonks.
Kingsley remembered Albus' words.
"Voldemort is afraid of dying, of becoming nothing. He made at least one Horcrux, dark magic, that split his soul. He may have made others. If you come across an object that cannot be destroyed it could be another Horcrux. Can you make fiendfyre, Mr Shacklebolt?"
It took every ounce of Kingsley's effort and concentration to create fiendfyre. It flicked towards the snake, wrapping around it, engulfing it. The snake lunged towards its aggressor with a hiss. Four blasting curses from behind him hit it in the head, slowing its attack.
With a human scream it fell to the floor and crumbled into ash.
There was silence. Tonks knelt by Proudfoot, checking for signs of life. Kingsley gave her the signal to Apparate back with both downed Aurors. A contingency plan was to get anyone wounded to St. Mungo's as soon as possible with the loss of fewest Aurors in the field. Kingsley reassigned one of his team to the other team to make two teams of four. They continued on.
In the hallway they met up the front door team. That team had searched the remainder of downstairs. All three teams headed quietly upstairs to meet Williamson's team.
Quick, silent movements cleared all rooms except the one from which a light shone. The room was designated as the last to search. Kingsley stood outside the closed door for the briefest second before giving the signal to storm the room.
Three blasting curses, two Confringos and a cutting hex hit the shield of the creature standing at the far end of the room. Kingsley would hesitate to use the word man. Later, when he had to give an accurate description he said, 'Imagine the horsemen Famine and Death, merge them together, and you'd be close'.
The 'man' held a wand. "Is that all?" it asked. "Pitiful." He raised his hand. "Avada Kedavra." The front line of Aurors could see where the wand was pointing. They ducked or moved. Kingsley didn't know which Auror was behind his right shoulder. He didn't get up again.
"Again!" yelled Kingsley, realising the only hope they had was to wear down the shield and dodge. Everyone fired. To the credit of the Aurors in the hallway, they entered the fray. Eight Aurors, one Voldemort.
Voldemort laughed.
"Perhaps I should even up the odds." Voldemort touched his wand to his arm. A patch of skin on his arm darkened and rippled. Voldemort looked down in shock. His partial body was unable to activate his mark.
He looked up, quickly judged the room then apparated away with a crack.
"He can't have gone far, surely," said Kingsley. "Apparition takes a lot of effort. Williamson, send up blue sparks to warn the perimeter guard."
No sooner had Auror Williamson done this than they heard commotion outside and a blasting curse from the woods not far from the house.
"There!" shouted Williamson who was nearest the window. He apparated towards the noise.
There was a clearing in the woods. A broken down shack with tiles missing and the front door open wide stood in front of them.
"Do come in, won't you?" said the voice from inside.
Kingsley held up his hand. Around him the remaining Aurors arrived. Kingsley signaled to surround the shack.
Kingsley saw movement upstairs. He waved everyone forward. As soon as Kingsley entered he could sense wrongness. And a pull he couldn't place. There was a floorboard ripped up, torn hurriedly out of the floor and a box on the mantelpiece.
One of the Aurors stepped towards it. Kingsley hauled him back. He cast Fiendfyre at the box on principle. The box burned, but the ring in the box screamed. There was an answering scream from upstairs. The creature came rushing down the stairs and lunged towards him, raising its wand.
Kingsley did an unforgivable thing. There was a flash of green light and the creature fell to the floor. There was the sound of wind, and the creature evaporated into mist and dispersed.
Silence. Everyone was stunned. Was he...?
They were brought out of their reverie by the mantelpiece collapsing and the burning wall sending sparks towards them. Kingsley signaled to evacuate. They stood and watched the shack burn. It took mere minutes for the fiendfyre to burn it to ash.
11pm. Kingsley stood in the mortuary. There were three bodies on the slabs. Savage. Proudfoot. Johnson. Dead in the line of duty. The most important mission in the last perhaps fifty years. But it had been expensive. A price Kingsley hadn't wanted to pay.
"Kingsley." Shacklebolt didn't turn to see who entered. He knew the voice.
"Rufus."
"The Aurors have all given their accounts of the mission. There seems to be some debate about your spell casting."
"Sir."
"It seems no-one is sure what spell you used in the end. The closest I got to finding out was when I asked Auror Williamson outright if you'd used fiendfyre. He said 'Could have been.'"
"Sir."
"No-one has volunteered their memory of that part of the evening either."
"Sir."
"It's seen as bad form to not offer memories of missions, although not mandatory."
"Sir."
"Unforgivable, you could even say."
"Sir."
"If I asked you for more details, you're just going to say 'Sir' at me, aren't you?"
"Sir."
"Nobody will look any closer, Kingsley. The cost was high. I'd say too high, but it was necessary. I will contact their families."
"Thank you, sir."