A/N: In my defence for this taking two months, I promised updates more regularly and this is at least more regularly. :p
Your reviews were all most encouraging and I hope to have 21 up sooner than this!
Review Responses:
Annibal - there are points where I feel like I need to go back and re-read the whole fic this has been going on so long! Bella is tremendous fun to write, which probably says worrying things about me! The balance thing between the Order and Harry as a captive has not been easy, I prefer my stories to flow where they will rather than constantly thinking 'I need a scene about such and such' but at this point I'm just trying to hold all the plot threads at once without dropping anything. Hopefully I've managed! Thanks for reviewing! :)
Adp1222 – Percy is wonderful, so's Ron and though I'm not a massive fan of the twins George was my favourite of the two. Thanks for the review! )
Huge thank you also to those who favourited or followed me. :)
A Subtle Change
Chapter 20
Harry was dozing, half-asleep/half-awake, his mind drifting through past events in an unconscious effort to escape present ones. His mind however brought up an incident the remembrance of which could only increase his current pain.
Harry was sat in a deserted common room late at night talking to Ron. It was soon after the attack on Ginny and his attempts to make the situation sound better had not been going well.
"It's a simple matter of numbers, Ron," he had tried to calm his friend, "What I meant was we were lucky she decided to go for one person on an individual basis. I'd have expected a Malfoy to reign down fire and brimstone if they were capable of it, which I wouldn't have expected her to be she didn't seem that impressive when we saw her."
"People are not statistics, Harry!" Ron all but exploded. "Of course I'm pleased no one else was hurt but I don't think that what happened regarding my sister could be described as lucky!"
"You know I don't mean it like that!" Harry began to get angry himself.
"Really and if she'd died would you still have said that?!" Ron snapped.
"Of course not, Ron, grant me some sensitivity!"
"So in other words you'd have thought it just not said it!"
"Ron, horrible as it is, individuals are dispensable right now!" Harry tried to bring back some rationality to the conversation, "You can't sacrifice hundreds of people to save one!"
"Well I don't see anything very moral about sacrificing one person to save hundreds!" Ron sounded more sad than angry now.
"I do." Harry insisted. "I'd sacrifice anyone, myself included, if it would stop Voldemort even temporarily!"
"Well I wouldn't, Harry!" Ron's eyes burned with emotion, "I couldn't and it's not because I don't see that of course in a way it's better one person die than hundreds or thousands but because I get the feeling that in that situation logic would be as far from my thoughts as it is possible to get! You can't detach from everything you feel! The moment death becomes an acceptable cost of getting what you want, that we can just brush something off as a lucky escape because we only lost one person, we're as bad as they are!"
"Don't ever say that!" Harry shouted.
"Well it's true!" Ron had yelled back.
Harry awoke from his half dreaming state with a jolt and found himself whispering Ron's name.
XXXXXXX
Druscilla was sat at her desk feeling glum, she was fiddling with the chain of her necklace and stabbing ink onto a report in the form of ideas, suggestions and, occasionally, ridicule at it's contents. This was not how she had envisioned spending Christmas Day even a week earlier. She was however not a woman to remain inactive as the world crashed to pieces around her and, Christmas Day or not, there was work to be done but at the moment her work seemed to have ground to a halt.
She sighed and jumped to her feet, the pressure from her elegant high heels causing shocks of pain to jolt her mind away from the encroaching despair she had felt. She needed to stop staring at reports for a while she decided, perhaps a visit to Percy's office would be a good idea. Like her, he had shown up first thing that morning with no reference to it being Christmas beyond the new-looking hand knitted jumper that had replaced his usual shirt and tie. He was most likely still in his office and she had always felt that Weasleys were exceptionally good at mindless optimism and she could certainly use a little at the moment.
Druscilla marched down the corridor, her heels muffled by the plush carpet. She opened Percy's door without bothering to knock and found him looking much like she must have done in her own office. He was sat at his desk, head bent over a report and a hand gripping his hair.
"This must be what going mad feels like," he muttered.
Druscilla sighed internally, so much for mindless optimism. "Well I tell you what, when we catch Bellatrix Lestrange you can ask her."
Percy jumped at the unexpected voice. "You look cheerful."
"If I don't laugh I'll cry," she said, responding to the note of disapproval she sensed rather than heard from him.
"Things not going well?" he asked.
"Well you won't be asking Bellatrix Lestrange your question any time soon I shouldn't think."
"Quite alright, I'm in no hurry to see her again," he still shuddered slightly at the memory of the encounter.
"Well personally I get much more edgy not knowing where she is."
"No progress then?"
" 'fraid not," she sighed. "Shall I take it from the going mad comment your research isn't a roaring success either?"
Percy shrugged, "Not really, I've a few theories I want to check out but nothing too promising. I thought it might help to talk to Snape and see if there's anything he can think of that might give us some clue what's in the vicinity."
"Good idea, it can't hurt."
Percy grimaced, "It could if he doesn't want to talk about it."
Druscilla laughed at the nervous expression on Percy's face. "He thinks rather highly of you you know, so I wouldn't worry too much."
Percy flushed in embarrassed pleasure at this comment.
"He's not the only one who thinks highly of you either. I've put a lot of pressure on you since you started working for me and you've coped admirably." She placed an affectionate hand on his shoulder in a way he would have found quite uncomfortably inappropriate when he had started working for her but he got used to her habits of touching people and had learnt that it was not always about flirtation. "We're all reaching breaking point at the moment but trust me you're not going mad quite yet," she squeezed his shoulder firmly before releasing him.
"Do you think we can stop them?" he asked quietly.
Druscilla sighed heavily, "We have to. There's no hope for this world until he's stopped. Don't worry too much, what's going to happen will happen, worrying will change nothing." She smiled with forced cheer, "And on that note we both have work to do. Merry Christmas, by the way." With this she left as suddenly as she had arrived.
Percy was accustomed to his boss wandering into his office when she felt in need of a break from her work but today he felt that what had brought her to his door was simply a need for companionship and support. The very idea of Druscilla Thornfield looking to him for support was a worrying indicator of just how bad things had become. Merry Christmas indeed.
XXXXXXX
Harry was once again woken from a disturbed sleep by a growing pain in his scar and the sound of footsteps approaching. He climbed to his feet as the door was swung open and Voldemort stepped inside, accompanied by a smirking Bellatrix Lestrange and two further hooded figures. His eyesight had been steadily fading once more after the events of the previous evening, though whether that was due to the spell wearing off or the pain his body had been subjected to in the Dark Lord's quest for 'entertainment' he wasn't sure.
"Harry," Voldemort smiled cruelly, "I was hoping we could have a nice friendly talk about things."
Harry stared defiantly at Voldemort, "I won't tell you anything," he said flatly, wondering how he was going to avoid having information tortured out of him or simply torn from his mind by a superior Legilimans who would doubtless swat his mental defences aside as he might a fly.
"Harry, Harry," Voldemort shook his head in mock sorrow, "Thus far you've proved less than cooperative, now that leaves me with several options as to how to proceed."
Harry refused to oblige Voldemort by asking what these were.
The Dark Lord smiled, "I could leave you with Bella for a while and see what she can do to persuade you, or I could simply rip the information out of your mind and probably destroy it in the process. Then there's option number three. Now this one is probably the most interesting. I've heard that since arriving at Hogwarts you've formed a close friendship with a classmate of yours, Ronald Weasley, yes?"
Harry frowned, his brain struggling to make sense of why Voldemort was saying this.
"So, Harry, how much do you care for him? Shall we find out? You see I have him locked up here, I can tell you he's not very happy about it, and if you don't tell me what I want to know he'll be even less happy. Do we understand each other?"
Harry couldn't find words, he understood all too well.
Bellatrix laughed at the horror shown in Harry's eyes. "Can I do it, my Lord? I'll make him talk! Please!" she sounded like an impatient child, hanging off his arm and gazing adoringly at the Dark Lord in a stomach-churning manner.
"Now, now, Bella, don't be impatient. I don't think we're going to need your talents here. Are we Harry? Or shall I just let Bella play with Ron instead?"
"If you've got Ron, prove it to me!" Harry blurted out.
Voldemort smiled, "I don't really think you're in a position to be making demands, do you?"
Harry shook his head defiantly, "Then I don't believe you have him."
The man's smile broadened, "Then you won't object to Bella having some fun."
The woman writhed in pleasurable anticipation and turned large dark eyes on Voldemort, "Please," she purred.
"Well as Harry seems to want to play things that way, I suppose you get your fun. A nice little Christmas present for you." They turned to leave.
"Stop!" The word was out of Harry's mouth before he knew what he was thinking.
Voldemort stopped but did not turn, "Ready to tell me what I want to know, Harry?"
Harry bit his lip in indecision; of course he couldn't tell Voldemort the things he knew, but what about Ron?
"Well why don't we give you some time to think about it?" Voldemort laughed, a high cold sound that raised the hairs on the back of Harry's neck, and left with Bella hanging on his arm.
After the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters had left, (and Harry was not quite so far gone as to fail to find amusement in the fact that Voldemort still hadn't faced him alone), he sank to the floor, knees clutched to his chest.
Only that morning he had been telling himself that he wouldn't tell them a thing no matter what they did or threatened to do but now things were different.
This was Ron, his first real friend not just in the wizarding world but in his life. Ron who had stood by him, fought at his side, laughed with him, argued with him, been there for him consistently over the last five years.
Everything in him was telling him that of course Voldemort didn't have Ron, that was why he wouldn't show him to Harry but there was a little voice inside him asking could he deal with the consequences if he took that gamble and was wrong? Of course then there was also the fact that if Voldemort had Ron and refrained from killing him now that didn't mean he wouldn't simply kill him after Harry had told him what he wanted to know. In fact Harry couldn't think of any further reason he'd have for keeping Ron around once he no longer needed him to manipulate Harry.
Harry's mind was pulled back to the Tri-Wizard Tournament (something that felt like a lifetime ago now) and to Dobby waking him the morning of the second task. Dobby had told him that they had taken the thing Harry Potter would miss most, his 'Wheezy'. "Dobby cannot let Harry Potter lose his Wheezy." And Harry knew he couldn't do it, he'd said that if it came down to it he'd sacrifice anyone for the greater good, that no one life was that important. Ron had known better, he had known it wasn't a matter of one life being more important, he had known that in that situation logic was the first thing to jump out of the nearest window.
Harry knew that if they really did have Ron then whatever he did they'd most likely kill him but maybe this way he'd at least see him again, have a chance to tell him how sorry he was and much he valued his friendship and couldn't face the idea of losing him.
Something dripped from his nose and he raised his hand, fearing a nosebleed but finding he had begun to cry without even noticing it. Once the tears had started he couldn't stop them, all he could think was how he hoped the people who had been brave and died in this war could forgive him because he was about to betray everything they had fought for. But then if there was anything he'd learnt from what had happened with Percy it was that people were more important than principles. Even principles your parents and Godfather and countless others had died for.
XXXXXXX
Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts staff had made an effort to create a festive atmosphere for the students that had remained at school for Christmas. The halls were decked in holly, beautifully trimmed Christmas trees hid around every corner and even the dungeons had a festive helping of beautiful, shimmering icicles.
Despite all the trimmings of Christmas however, Percy still felt the atmosphere in the school remained as chilly as those icicles. There were few students about and those there were seemed to have caught their teachers' depressed spirits. He couldn't help but compare it to the Christmas he had once spent there and the marked difference between the two.
Perhaps though it was in part his own mood that was colouring his perception, he was certainly not relishing the task that had brought him here.
Percy hesitated at the open doorway to the potions room. Professor Snape was reading a scroll at his desk.
The Potions Master did not even glance up at his visitor before greeting him. "Good morning, Percy. What brings you here?"
"Good Morning, Sir," old habits died hard and, though calling Professor Lupin 'Remus' was something he had grown accustomed to, Professor Snape was very definitely still 'Sir'. Percy hesitated, wondering how best to phrase his request and also wondering if the man before him really did have eyes in the back of his head. He was by no means the first of Severus' students to have wondered this.
At the young man's continued silence Snape finally looked up from his text, a raised eyebrow suggesting that Percy would do well not to waste either of their time.
Percy ploughed on determinedly, "I was hoping to ask you a few questions. You know I've been researching the location of the Dark Lord, well I was wondering if you could think of anything that might help?"
Severus' expression was unreadable, a blank mask settled across his features to obscure whatever feelings the mention of his connection with the Death Eaters had produced. "I've never even seen the outside of the building, never mind the surrounding area, so I doubt I can be much help," he answered curtly.
"I was actually thinking of what you could possibly hear and smell of the outside? Any details of temperature or weather patterns?" Percy pressed.
"That's an interesting idea actually," Severus conceded, "I'll think about it next time I'm there."
"Thank you." Percy didn't move from the doorway.
"It's a good approach to the problem, well done."
Percy smiled awkwardly but did not take the hint that the interview was at an end.
"Did you want something else?" Snape enquired at Percy's persistent lingering in his doorway.
"Well, yes." Percy stepped as bravely as he could manage into the classroom. "It's just that you know the Dark Lord better than anyone else we have." Severus' face was a mask behind which the mere mention of this fact brought about a turmoil of seething emotions. Much of his anger was directed at the young man before him, but even more of it was directed at himself.
Sensing danger but pressing on purposefully, Percy continued. "So I was hoping you might be able to give me some insight into the kind of place he might use?" Percy waited nervously for Severus to respond.
"You want inner workings of the Dark Lord's mind from someone enough like him to understand him?" Severus' voice was like an iron fist in a velvet glove, soft on the surface masking deadly intent.
"No, no that's not what I meant!" Percy protested, taking an involuntary step backwards, (a mistake with a man who was simply further enraged by displays of fear).
"So you aren't interested in how the Dark Lord's mind works?" Severus smiled without a trace of humour.
"Yes, I mean no, I mean…maybe I should just leave," Percy stammered, horrified at his own words and how easily they became twisted in Severus' mouth.
"Maybe you would be wise to," Severus hissed.
Percy backed out of the door and with a hasty, "I'm sorry," turned and strode briskly away.
XXXXXXX
Oliver Wood's life had changed significantly in the space of the past few days. A month ago he would get up in the morning, head to training, spend the day honing his quidditch skills, reading quidditch magazines and mooching about. Off the pitch his motivation was admittedly somewhat limited. On pitch however his hard work had paid off with a promotion to the Puddlemere United Keeper's position from the reserves.
Oliver was now spending all his off-pitch time consumed by the Order of the Phoenix. Percy had been bringing him up to date and Oliver was increasingly astonished at the way the Order had worked tirelessly and thanklessly against the Death Eaters, for the most part seemingly while fighting each other at the same time.
Percy had also, over the course of several conversations, haltingly poured out his own story of the last couple of years. He was clearly embarrassed by his own behaviour but determined Oliver shouldn't hear the truth from anyone else. Oliver however found himself in easy understanding with Percy, the quidditch player was no stranger to insecurity when it came to anything that didn't involve flying and he had often been faintly horrified at Fred and George's treatment of their brother.
Spending time with Percy again had proved undeniably pleasant, despite the circumstances that brought them together. The two had never been close at Hogwarts, different interests and obsessive behaviour that kept one indoors studying while the other was out on a broom in all weathers meant the time they spent together had been limited. Nevertheless an easy friendship had sprung up between them from the first time Oliver had helped Percy finally get his broom off the ground without falling off it.
Now however a common goal served to bring the two of them closer than they'd ever been whilst sharing a dormitory. It was amazing however how much you absorbed through simple osmosis when living with someone and Oliver felt he probably knew Percy as well as most people could claim to if not better and he was beginning to think Percy was hitting breaking point.
You'd need to be an idiot to miss how intelligent Percy was. What less people noticed was how fragile that intelligence was, filled with self-doubt and Percy's desperate need to prove himself.
Privately Oliver had begun to wonder how long it would take before someone had to talk the redhead down from a window ledge and he had a sneaking suspicion it was going to be him. His family mostly seemed oblivious to Percy's internal struggles and Druscilla was as likely to give him a push and say the fall would teach him not to do it again as she was to actually spend her time convincing him things weren't as bad as they looked.
He was therefore not terribly surprised when he showed up at Percy's office on Boxing Day to find him in a complete panic, "We can't do this, I can't do this. We're just not going to find him in time!" Percy blurted out before Oliver had even managed to ask what was wrong.
"Hey, calm down," Oliver took away the pile of parchment that Percy had been twisting in his hands and seemed of the verge of tearing apart. "You've got closer than anyone else ever has to finding You Know Who's hiding place."
Percy shook his head a little wildly, "No, Thornfield did, she gave us the area to search and I just attempted to compile what would likely have been useless data from a man who now hates me and it got me nowhere!"
"Who?" Oliver looked confused.
"Snape, I may have upset him while asking for his advice."
"I'm sure Snape doesn't hate you."
"I implied he would know how the Dark Lord thought because he was the same kind of person," Percy looked wide eyed and desperately guilty.
"Oh, Snape's paranoid and guilt-ridden! He reads 'you're a murdering bastard' into 'would you like a biscuit'!"
Percy gave a sudden snort of laughter, partly at the image of Oliver deciding to offer Snape a biscuit and the likely response this would receive.
Oliver smiled, "That's better, lighten up a little bit, there are plenty of places left to try."
Percy sighed and slumped down at his desk, "That's the problem, there's too many! We have to find it soon or there's no point in finding it at all! If Harry dies, the Order, the Ministry, everything, is going to go to pieces – he is the symbol they need! He gives them hope."
"You'll find it. Come on, Head Boy, you're brilliant and you know it. That damned intellect of yours just needs to get a grip and believe in itself. Go with your guts, pick somewhere and try it, and then try another, and another, until you get it and you will!"
Percy snapped his head up, "Good God, please tell me you don't believe any of the crap you just spouted."
Oliver grinned, "What do you want me to say? We're all gonna die?" He gave a shrug, "I do believe you can do this."
"I'm glad one of us does."
"Well I'll do the blind optimism bit so long as you do the brain work and find us somewhere to go."
Percy nodded, "Right, well so far I've got the entire west coast of Scotland to search."
"Ok, maybe we should try and narrow that down a little before you start sending out the search parties."
"That's what I was trying to do while talking to Snape and I blew it!"
"Give him some space and he'll help you if he can, it's not exactly in his interests not to."
Percy looked doubtful.
"Trust me," Oliver insisted. "Why don't you talk to him again after the Order meeting tomorrow?"
"Because I like my limbs attached," Percy grimaced.
XXXXXXX
Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey was, Remus felt, not an especially welcoming place. The sun was shining on a perfectly manicured front lawn which was looking verdant even in December and how they did that without magic was certainly impressive. The car in the drive was gleaming, as were all the windows in the house with their frilly net curtains looking starched and spotlessly white. It all felt terribly clinical somehow as though it might benefit from a bit of cracked paint or a few dead leaves on the lawn.
Not that anything in the house's appearance would change how difficult what he was here to do was. He walked briskly up to the smartly painted front door with its beautiful festive wreath and knocked with more confidence than he felt.
He remembered that Lily Evans had had a photograph with her at Hogwarts that she had showed him once of herself and Petunia as children, she had looked at it with a wistful expression and explained to him that the two of them rarely spoke now. That was the only picture he had ever seen of Petunia but he still felt a sense of recognition when a tall, skinny woman, impeccably dressed but wearing a frilly apron that offended even his limited fashion sense, opened the door and regarded him and his worn robes doubtfully.
"Good Morning, Mrs Dursley, my name is Remus Lupin, I'm here about your nephew." She looked as though she was going to shut the door again, previous doubts confirmed, so he pressed a foot inside, "Can I come in? Please. It is important."
The woman seemed to weigh up the danger of letting a wizard into her home as opposed to leaving a man in robes on her doorstep for all the neighbours to see. A twitch, possibly merely imagined by her nerves, of a nearby net curtain decided her.
"Come in. Quickly!" she snapped as her unwelcoming tone made him hesitate.
Petunia Dursley slammed the door behind him and called out in a voice more irritated than afraid, "Vernon, come quickly!"
A red-faced heavyset man came down the stairs, stopping short as his gaze fell on Remus. "Who is this?"
"He's here about Harry." Petunia's statement brought about a groan from her husband.
"What's the brat done now? You can't expel him! I'll not have him here all year round frightening the neighbours!" Vernon growled.
Remus withheld the urge to draw his wand, "Please, can we perhaps sit down to discuss this?"
Petunia seemed to have trouble resisting the urge to place a protective cloth on her sofa before allowing the slightly scruffy wizard to sit on it but nodded tersely, "Yes, do sit down a moment." The tone suggested that a moment was all he would remain welcome for.
Remus sat gingerly on the indicated seat, finding Petunia's fastidiousness catching even under the circumstances. Vernon was fuming at the continuation of the man's presence in his house but for once his wife seemed to show no interest in letting him deal with the situation.
After a moment of debate Remus chose to address himself to Petunia, hoping to find common ground to start this difficult conversation from. "Mrs Dursley, I was a close friend of your sister and her husband."
This had clearly not been the right thing to say as Petunia Dursley gave him an even more distasteful look than she had been already.
Vernon Dursley began to look nervous, "You're not that criminal Godfather of his are you?"
Remus winced at the mention of Sirius, "No, I'm not his Godfather."
The man looked slightly less nervous, Remus noticed that Petunia showed no trace of nerves but was more interested in sniffing at his much-mended clothes.
"Why are you here, Mr Lupin?" she asked superciliously.
"I suppose it's about something that good for nothing nephew of ours has done?" Vernon Dursley glared at the intruder into his otherwise normal home.
Remus paled noticeably. "It is about Harry, yes, but not so much about what he's done."
Petunia looked almost curious at the wizard's expression and her voice seemed almost to thaw a degree, "What is it?"
"You know about the man who killed Harry's parents, your sister?"
"Humph!" Vernon snorted, "You mean the Bastard who meant we had to raise that juvenile delinquent."
Remus decided that arguing Harry's supposed delinquency was not worth it at the present time. "Yes, Mr Dursley," he said, a hard edge entering his voice, "the same Bastard, I assure you, the same murdering Bastard who is now holding your nephew, my friends' son. And I think you've hit on the ideal way to refer to him even if your reasons could hardly be worse!"
Remus had leapt to his feet at some point during his anger and now towered over the seated Vernon who appeared to be trying to get his chair to disappear though the wall – an interesting ambition for a man so opposed to magic. "Now you listen here, you can't speak to me like that…" his voice cracked and trailed off as Remus interrupted him.
"Yes, I can. The only connection I have left to my best friends is being held by, as you accurately termed him, a 'bastard' so I am going to speak to you in any way I want," the werewolf's voice was a low growl as he settled back onto the sofa.
"Why?" Petunia's voice cut across his thoughts, sounding as though she still hadn't fully realised what she'd been told.
Remus turned to the woman, "I'm sorry?"
She shook her head, "Why are they holding him? What do they want? More to the point, what do you want?"
"I don't think you understand, they don't want anything from us, he is what they want."
She frowned, possibly unable to grasp the concept of someone wanting Harry, "In what way?"
"They want him dead." Remus was determined to get through to these people.
Petunia hesitated before speaking slowly and carefully, "They want to kill him? Then what makes you think he'd be alive? Why keep him captive, it makes no sense."
The shocked confusion in her voice made Remus hold back for once from snapping at the woman he knew had failed to be any kind of mother figure to Harry, "That's what we're all puzzling over I'm afraid, he said quietly, "But we do have a dependable source with information as to his well being."
Vernon was still sitting in shocked silence.
"I should go, I just felt you should be informed of what was happening." Remus stood up and let himself out the house without further comment.
"Wait," a voice commanded him imperiously as he reached the end of the driveway. He turned to see Petunia walking out after him. She hesitated briefly before saying, "Mr Lupin, you will inform me of how things turn out?"
He nodded, "Yes, of course we will."
"They'll be no reason for you to return here in person, you might be seen by the neighbours. If you could send a letter in the normal way," she placed a great stress on the word 'normal', "it would be appreciated." Petunia Dursley turned immediately and went back into the house, closing the door firmly behind her.
Lupin shook his head in confusion. He had no idea what to make of the woman he'd met, she could hardly have been more different to her sister but then he had expected that. Her cold attitude though hid an awareness of what was happening that her husband clearly lacked, this was a woman who had some understanding of who Voldemort was and what it meant for Harry to be held captive by him and unless Lupin was very much mistaken she was genuinely hoping the boy would be alright.
XXXXXXX
Severus Snape joined Professor Dumbledore moments before the older man was about to floo to Grimmauld Place that evening.
"Severus, you're back, I wasn't sure you were going to make the meeting."
"Neither was I. He has the prophecy."
Dumbledore closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "Harry…"
Severus sighed, "Alive still, but somewhat demoralised shall we say."
Dumbledore nodded grimly, "Let's get on with this, you can brief the Order and I at the same time." Severus followed the elderly wizard through the fireplace and into the large kitchen at Grimmauld Place where he took his familiar seat at McGonagall's side.
They were the last to arrive and things already looked tense Dumbledore noted, the divisions between the people he had brought together were becoming clearer by the day. He waited less than half a minute for silence though, a rather good time when the Weasley twins were in the room.
"Before we get into anything else, Severus needs to brief us all so I'm going to hand straight over to him."
Remus's eyes flew to Severus' face in a silent but desperate question that met with a curt nod from the Potions Master. Druscilla noticed the exchange with interest at how well the two men read each other.
Molly Weasley however was not as good as interpreting Severus' inexpressive body language, "Is Harry alright?" she asked in a tremulous voice.
Snape sighed in irritation, "Yes, yes, Potter's still alive. He has however been rather adversely affected by his stay at the Dark Lord's country get-away and has given him the contents of the prophecy along with a few other pieces of information he was privy to."
Molly looked shocked, "He wouldn't do that."
Remus' hands gripped the table so tightly his knuckles had turned white, "Molly I believe the Dark Lord could make someone do just about anything." He felt he really didn't want to know what had finally broken the young boy but he was damned sure Harry hadn't given up easily.
Severus continued, "The Dark Lord, in his rather singular reasoning, has something of an interesting take on the Prophecy that may work in our favour however."
"What's that then?" Moody asked gruffly, forgetting to be rude to Snape in his interest at the information.
"I take it we are all familiar with the wording of the prophecy?" Snape paused while some of the younger Order members gave him the sort of embarrassed look he often received in classes that affirmed that they did not in fact remember the information but they were not going to be the first to admit it.
Dumbledore had got very good at recognising that look too and stepped in. "The prophecy states, 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…'"
"A trifle overly dramatic, but then prophecies do tend that way," Druscilla commented.
"Well the part that has caught the Dark Lord's attention is unsurprisingly 'either must die at the hands of the other'." Snape continued, "What is surprising is the way he interprets this. He thinks that it means that for as long as Harry is alive he is the only one the Dark Lord is vulnerable to, that in fact keeping Harry alive could be in his interests until a more likely threat has been dealt with."
"A more likely threat? You mean the Ministry?" Druscilla frowned.
"Hardly," Snape sneered, "He means the Headmaster. Professor Dumbledore is the only person left who can frighten the Dark Lord and he believes that while Potter is alive the boy is the only one who can kill him, meaning Dumbledore cannot. His general plan appears to be to keep Potter alive and incarcerated until you," he looked at Dumbledore apologetically, "are dead, preferably at his hand."
"Could the prophecy mean that?" Tonks asked in confusion.
"Goodness knows," Severus snapped, "Divination is about as inexact an art as you can find."
"This is crazy!" Druscilla interrupted, waving her quill wildly, patience clearly gone and unwilling to debate the finer points of divination.
"Do you have something constructive to add?" Moody snorted, irritated by the interruption.
"We're all sat around here waiting for this prophecy to fulfil itself and now Voldemort's joined us!" A good potion of the room winced collectively at the name. "We've all been waiting for sixteen years! I say it's time to stop waiting. Time to take some action for a change. Let's face it we don't know what this prophecy really means and we certainly can't trust to fate to save us all!"
"The prophecy sounds pretty clear cut to me," Bill said doubtfully.
"But that's just it," Druscilla gesticulated even more wildly than before, " It's not! Look at the interesting new spin Voldemort's just placed on it! Prophecies are never clear cut, sometimes they are played out in ways you can never predict and events you never see coming are often predicted years in advance!"
"That doesn't make any sense," Fred said flatly.
"Stop sayin' tha' name!" Hagrid moaned unhappily.
Druscilla did not look happy at these comments. "For god's sake the future isn't written in stone, it's as open to interpretation as anything else in this world! Do you really want to sit here and wait for Snape to come back and tell us that Potter's dead and we still have a Dark Lord to deal with? Because that is, like it or not, what's going to happen. He is a child, an exceptional one maybe but a child nonetheless and when it comes to simple power he is no match for the Dark Lord!"
"Druscilla!" Remus exclaimed.
"I am afraid I must agree in that I would not expect Harry to hold out for long against Voldemort, few could and a child least of all. He's too easily provoked and affected by things," Kingsley Shacklebolt came calmly to his colleague's defence.
Druscilla frowned, "To stand your ground against a man like Voldemort you need to be almost as detached from people and the world as he is. No offence meant, Severus."
"None taken, I understand your meaning and I certainly would not expect Potter to last much longer than he already has."
"It's true! He'll die if we don't do something to intervene!" Molly started sobbing again at Druscilla's words.
"Well what do you suggest?" Snape's voice carried a quiet weight that silenced the squabbling Order and forced Druscilla to calm herself a little; sometimes a teacher's voice could be useful outside of a classroom as well as in it.
The woman took a deep breath, "As soon as we find out where he is we launch an attack."
"Are you mad?! There's not enough of us and if we go storming in there he'll kill Harry for sure!" Bill protested.
"We need to take a risk or we'll lose everything," Druscilla argued, "The time for sitting back and gathering information and hoping we can hold him off for another year is over. We have to defeat him not just stall him this time. The only way the boy's coming back alive is if we go and get him out."
Remus nodded grimly, "You're right, we're the only hope he has, we can't leave him there."
"We need to find out where there is before we do anything else," Minerva said reasonably.
"We're working on that, you'll have a report when we're ready," Druscilla glanced meaningfully at Percy.
"That and what we do once we get there! We can't take on all the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who! There aren't enough of us," Moody cautioned.
"No there aren't," Druscilla agreed. "You don't have enough people and the Ministry doesn't have enough information. I suggest a pooling of resources. If we work together we can try and put an end to this before Harry ends up dead and the prophecy is fulfilled in a way none of us want it to be. Because let's face it however you look at that prophecy it sounds like the minute one of them dies…game's over."
"We still need a better plan than we've got," Moody persisted.
"Then we'll come up with one," Dumbledore's tone was decisive, "We will not give up on Harry."
After the meeting Percy found himself instantly cornered by his boss. "Ok, so no pressure but we need the Dark Lord's location and we need it yesterday, Percy."
"I do know that," the young redhead responded quietly a note of reproach in his voice.
"Anything you need, anything you want to follow up or research just take whatever resources you deem necessary," Druscilla insisted.
"I have been doing," Percy ran a hand distractedly through his hair.
Druscilla nodded, "Keep trying, no one else is making any progress so you could say I'm pinning my hopes on you for this plan to work."
"Right," Percy muttered as she wandered off to speak with Remus, "So no pressure then."
Severus watched as Percy Weasley leaned heavily against the wall, a look of encroaching panic on his face. It was a lot to ask of anyone to out-think a wizard capable of cheating death itself and though Percy was certainly exceptional Severus was well aware it was not a task he could fulfil alone. Of course Percy himself knew that and had asked for help, help that Severus had all but refused due to the boy's tactless way of asking. He sighed, he had told Minerva he could set aside his personal feelings to do what had to be done and yet he had allowed them to get in the way.
"Gulls," Snape's velvety tones took Percy by surprise.
"What?" he snapped his head up from where he had been staring vacantly at the floor, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
Snape's expression was unreadable, "You asked what I might have heard or smelt of the outside world during my visits to the Dark Lord's current residence. I can hear gulls there and what little air gets in from the outside smells salty like we're on the coast, and there was a large storm there last night."
"Thank you," Percy smiled in relief at the man's attitude that was a good deal friendlier than when they had last met. "That's fantastic, it definitely narrows it down."
"The building itself is old," Severus continued, "A few hundred years at least, the layout and architecture suggest a small castle or fortified keep. The Dark Lord is drawn to power and things with a sense of permanence; anything old that endures interests him so the site's age doesn't surprise me. He's also not above using a muggle structure, though if there were a wizarding history to the building he'd like it even more. Oh, and don't underestimate his arrogance, hiding under people's noses is something that would amuse him greatly." He gave a sardonic smile, "Enough insight for you?"
Percy tensed, "I'm sorry I had to ask you but that information might well help us. I didn't mean that I thought you were anything like him, merely that you're one of the few people on our side who have encountered him and survived."
"Yes well don't be expecting a best selling autobiography of 'My time with the Dark Lord' should we get out of this alive." Severus smirked, he knew it was wrong but the idea that Harry Potter was even now languishing in a cell really did make the world feel like a better place. Shame he felt compelled to get the brat out of there in one piece.
Percy grinned, "I won't."
"I must return to Hogwarts, I have work to do, I hope I've been able to help you."
Percy nodded, "You've given me something to work from when I was at a dead end, we'll just have to see where it goes. I'm not giving up, we will find him."
"With that attitude, Mr Weasley, perhaps you will."
XXXXXXX
Hope you enjoyed that, the next chapter will be up soonish I hope and in it things are getting tense amongst the Order members.
I'd love to hear what you thought of this one.