AN- 5k views! Thanks to all of you for reading. As always, comments are welcome. Enjoy
The QRF, backed up by several of the "off duty" infantry squads, rapidly and precisely cleared the entire castle in under four hours, a feat that under other circumstances would have been incredible. However, the mood was a little more somber throughout the castle as students woke up and tables were replaced for breakfast that morning. Not a trace of the intruder was found, save the deep gouges in the Fat Lady's frame.
It wasn't until almost four in the morning when the Fat Lady was located, a distraught mess over the happenings of the night. With her testimony, it was confirmed. Sirius Black had managed to infiltrate the castle and attacked the painting when she denied him entrance to the common room. The revelation sent ripples through the members of the Task Force, and by 0500 Major Price had called together the entire leadership of Bravo Company, down to squad leaders, and Capt. Gordon.
To say he was apoplectic would have been an understatement that would have previously been laughed at. Major Price had been a relatively even tempered commander thus far. As it turned out, the Major did not appreciate catastrophic failure.
"An absolute shit show!" He shouted at the silent room. No one had spoken since the Major made it into the briefing room. Luckily, the room was relatively distant from most other occupied rooms. Originally it was to keep briefings at least somewhat private. It was useful however, as they needed every square inch of distance they could muster for the sound of Major Price's voice to die down, otherwise students and staff would hear his rage.
"Sirius Motherfucking Black, walked into the castle!" He eyed each of them, the veins in his neck popped out as though trying to escape the tirade. "Somehow, the most wanted motherfucker in Britain walked past a company of highly trained soldiers, whose entire purpose for fucking being here is to prevent exactly this fucking situation from occurring!"
"I'm at a loss for words…" He paused again, though if the last half an hour was any indication, he was anything but 'at a loss for words.' "You know, in ten minutes I have a meeting with the Headmaster, and I have to explain that this damned guy got past us, attacked a painting, and then got past us again to escape." He took a large breath, and straightened out his uniform, obviously finished with them.
"Captain, you're second in command here," he said. "I am going to go try and convince the Headmaster that we are competent enough to keep this school and its contents safe. You stay here and unfuck this situation. I don't care how, come up with a plan to make sure this does not happen again."
"Yes, sir," Brad replied even as Major Price stalked away.
"Damn," one of the Lieutenants called from the back of the room. "That was intense."
"Well," Brad said, standing up to face them. "Major Price is right. For all the preparation we have done, we failed the objective. Let's make sure it doesn't happen again."
Over the next hour, Brad laid out a plan with the help of the platoon and squad leaders. All of the entrances and exits to the school would have a two man guard post at all times, in full battle gear. The entrances to the four common rooms would also have a two man guard post just outside. In addition, Brad decided that at least two members of his team would stay in the Gryffindor common room at night, ready to go if Sirius Black tried again. The idea was to significantly increase their visual presence and their ability to respond.
"Headmaster," Severus Snape said, announcing his arrival in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, his musings interrupted by the arrival of the potions professor. "I'm told the school has been completely searched."
"It has," Dumbledore replied. Snape opened his mouth but was cut short by the Headmaster, who knew exactly what was coming next. "There was no sign of him. I hardly expected Black to linger."
"Have you any idea how he managed to get in?" Snape asked. His contempt for the muggle soldiers was not particularly well hidden. It was clear he found this incident to be proof of his beliefs.
"Many, each as unlikely as the next," Dumbledore sighed. "I don't believe the muggles allowed his entry, and if the meeting Major Price has called for with me is any indication, they are taking it very seriously."
"As well they should," Snape barely contained the look of displeasure. "They failed to prevent a murderer from making it into the castle."
"I am certain it will be dealt with." Dumbledore ended the sentence sharply. Snape had a habit of picking at subjects for far too long.
"You remember my…" Snape paused, considering his words carefully. "Concerns, over our staffing appointment?" Dumbledore nodded, remembering quite well how Snape confronted him.
"I am quite certain that no professor assisted Mr. Black in any way." The edge of warning in Dumbledore's voice closed the subject fully. Snape opened his mouth to protest, appalled by the lack of consideration to the theory. He was however, interrupted by a knock at the door. "That will be Major Price, please show him in on your way out."
"Of course," Snape turned and stalked from the room, pushing past the Major. Price stepped inside and closed the door behind him. His uniform was sharply pressed and in sharp contrast to his earlier state, he was in complete control.
"Headmaster," Major Price said, snapping to attention in front of the Headmaster's desk. "I would like to formally apologize. There is no excuse for the lapse in security and-" Dumbledore held up a hand, interrupting the Major.
"Please, I know this was not any poor security on your side," Dumbledore said. "I have closely followed your efforts to secure the castle since the Task Force first arrived. In fact, I must admit that prior to last night, I felt they were greatly exaggerated. Please, have a seat Major." The major cautiously took a seat in the chair across from the headmaster, though he looked no less comfortable. If there was a way to stand at attention while seated, the Major was doing a spectacular job at it.
"I had thought they would be adequate. I have Captain Gordon formulating an enhanced security plan as we speak, and it will be operational by the end of the day," Major Price replied, still trying to ease any concern the Headmaster had.
"I too believed that Black would not manage to make it into the castle." Dumbledore leaned forward slightly. "Please, Major, relax." Price allowed his shoulders to slump, only just. Dumbledore considered it a win and continued. "I'm impressed with your ability to have changes in order so rapidly. That will make things easier in the days to come." Whatever relaxation Price had managed ended abruptly, and he was sharp as a tack once again.
"Sir?" was the only reply he could manage.
"I am certain that, in the coming days, at least some of our students will write home about this intrusion. Word will find its way to Minster Fudge, who I'm afraid will insist that I allow the dementors to take over the security of Hogwarts." Dumbledore stood and walked to his window, overlooking the school. The horizon was only just starting to brighten, much of the castle and the lands around it remained dark.
"From everything I have seen and been told about the dementors, that would be a mistake, sir." Major Price had not personally fought a dementor, but he read the after action reports of an encounter by Phantom Team in the US. They managed to activate a Mark I, but only after an Auror had been kissed. It took some serious counseling to get Phantom back in fighting order again. Unleashing that on a school was unthinkable.
"I have no intention of allowing it, and your increased measures will help that." Dumbledore turned back from the window, and walked to the edge of the Major's chair. Price stood, taking that as his cue that the conversation was over. "I will continue to look into how Mr. Black made it into the castle. In the meantime, make your changes and keep an eye out for him. The sooner we apprehend him, the easier this all will be."
"Thank you, sir." Major Price snapped a sharp salute. "You have my word."
That morning the only gossip around the castle centered on Sirius Black and his miraculous intrusion into their school. The response by TFA was strong and immediate. Their armed presence at each of the entrances sent a clear message that there would not be a repeat.
The painting of the Fat Lady had been removed by Filch just prior to breakfast, replaced by Sir Cadogan. The knight seemed to take offense at the additional presence of guards posted outside the entrance. He had taken to showing off his fighting prowess against a tree in the backdrop to anyone trying to get into the Gryffindor common room. Students were rapidly finding that the quickest way to get him to accept the password and open the door was to admire his abilities.
Professors had their work cut out for them as well, struggling to keep students on task. Students were focused on the events of the night before.
"Transfiguring furniture can be a very complex…" McGonagall cut herself short for what felt like the millionth time today. The subtle murmurs of students whispering back and forth had grown loud enough again. "For heaven's sake, children." The murmurs stopped again, but the Professor knew their hearts wouldn't be in it. With twenty minutes left until the end of the day, she decided to cut her losses. "Go now, get the gossip out of the way. Return to classes tomorrow a little more prepared to learn, if you will." No one moved a muscle. "You're dismissed."
As one, the class stood and burst into conversation, not waiting to be told twice. McGonagall was not one to let them leave early, and no one wanted to look a gift horse in the mouth. Least of all Harry and his friends.
"Blimey, I never thought I'd see the day," Ron said incredulously. "McGonagall… letting us out early."
"Well it's not like anyone was paying any attention, Ron." Hermione seemed irritated, the only one not enthusiastic about leaving class early. Ron ignored her as they continued toward the common room, taking the chance to drop off books early, before dinner.
"I'd like to find the Captain," Harry said. They hadn't seen their team since the escort last night. When they woke up this morning, the Great Hall was indeed heavily defended. The operators of Reaper team were nowhere to be seen however, and never showed for breakfast.
"Yes, it would be good to get a little more information on what happened," Hermione said. The walk to the common room didn't take them long.
"They sure are taking the security thing a bit seriously," Ron commented as they reached the top of the staircase. The two soldiers standing in full gear outside gave them a nod of acknowledgement as they walked up.
"Tell the knight he looks like a badass," one of them said as the trio passed by. They made it to the painting and sure enough, Sir Cadogan stood clad in his armor, his sword drawn.
"Halt, scoundrels!" he shouted at them.
"Wattlebird," Ron said impatiently. His books were heavy and the last thing he wanted was to be stuck holding them any longer.
"Ha, you think you can trick me, do you?!" He thrust his sword out, then twirled, slicing a branch off of a nearby tree within his painting.
"That's quite a fighting technique." Hermione tried to sound enthusiastic. Sir Cadogan stood straighter and bowed slightly.
"Thank you, madam. You can see, I am plenty protection for this great tower of Gryffindor." He looked past her. "There's simply no need for the lumbering buffoons over there." He said it just loud enough to reach the two guards.
"Suck it, painting!" one of them retorted without turning away.
"Please, I won't allow you to be in their presence any longer than necessary." The portrait opened, allowing them entry. They went their separate ways, dropping off books, agreeing to meet up in the common room to head down to the Great Hall together for dinner. Harry and Ron finished quickly and found they had to wait for Hermione a little bit. When she finally came down a few minutes later, there were some subtle differences. Her robes no longer had the wrinkles of the day on them, among some other minor changes.
"Did you brush your hair?" Ron asked, scratching his head. Hermione's cheeks turned a faint pink as she descended the last few steps.
"I… oh honestly, there's nothing wrong with looking presentable." She poked at Ron's robes, which were quite wrinkled and had a pumpkin juice stain on the neck, then looked to Harry's wild hair. "You two might try it some time." She pointed her nose to the air slightly and left the two bewildered boys to follow her.
"You'd think she's going on a date…" Ron sighed. The two caught up and they went down to the Great Hall together. Students were already grouped together, exchanging theories on the intrusion the night before. Some of the braver ones were attempting to wrestle information out of some of the troops. Some of the older students were finding their seats, experience telling them that food would be arriving soon.
"No, man. There is no reason to expect that he turned into a plant." They heard a familiar voice nearby. Looking over, they saw that the four Reaper operators were at their table, with place settings for three more. Brad was crouched down trying to ease the concern of some first year Hufflepuffs.
"You're sure though? I thought the leaves on one near the fourth floor corridor looked wilted. Like they had been in prison or something, you know?" The student looked obviously distressed.
"My guys checked everything out, same with the teachers. He is definitely not in the castle." Brad patted the concerned kid on the shoulder, standing up. "Go get a seat guys, the food will be here soon." The two kids nodded unconvinced. "I'll send a team to double check that plant, sound good?" They nodded and left as Harry, Ron and Hermione walked up.
"Hermione," Mike smiled as they arrived. "You look nice." She smiled and thanked him through pink cheeks.
"Feel free to join us if you like," Brad said, gesturing toward the extra settings. "You obviously don't need to, but…." He trailed off as they began taking seats. Hermione sat next to Mike, leaving the other two seats to the boys. Harry sat next to Brad, searching for how to ask about what all had happened.
"We'll talk tonight," he said, reading Harry's expression correctly. "From here on out, a couple of us will be in the common room at night. Plenty of time to discuss current events then." Harry nodded in understanding, even as he looked around. Brad would tell him, but he needed to wait until not so many students could hear.
"How was class?" Mike asked, his question almost punctuated by the rapid appearance of a wide variety of food and drink. The conversation throughout dinner had a heaviness to it. It was difficult to really have a good time with such an elephant in the room, but they managed to enjoy themselves.
Once everyone had fed themselves, they made way back to the common room. Brad and Mike were taking the first night in the Gryffindor common room. It was again a challenge, getting past Sir Cadogan, but they managed to succeed after another round of compliments to the knight. After finding the most secluded table in the common room, they sat.
"What happened?" Harry asked, unable to wait any longer. "How did he get in?"
"We aren't sure." Brad sighed, obviously not proud of the lack in answer. "We checked everywhere, no one saw him go in or out."
"That's kind of your job, isn't it?" Ron asked, earning a slap to the shoulder from Hermione.
"Ron!" She hissed.
"No, he's right." Mike said, leaving a sour taste. He, like most operators, did not tolerate failure particularly well.
"We have enhanced the security here, it'll be impossible for him to get in again. Guards at any and all entrances, 24/7. We set up observation points outside the castle to watch for him trying to get in through windows, the common rooms are being secured every night during dinner." Brad sat forward. "You will be safe."
"Thanks," Harry said. "So you guys aren't going to get replaced?" The concern was something he had wondered about since the incident occurred, and he felt certain that his friends had considered it as well, though no one said anything.
"No, not in the foreseeable future." Brad's reply was firm and confident. "Fudge will probably try to replace us with his dementors, but Dumbledore is not going to allow it. We have upped security and things should be stable."
"Good," Hermione said nodding her head. Apparently, she had considered the possibility.
"I'll take a pass on the dementors anytime," Ron said, standing up. "Think I'm gonna turn in."
"Yeah, I think I'll do the same," Harry stood as well. They looked expectantly at Hermione, who looked a little embarrassed but didn't move. Brad took the cue.
"Well, Mike I think the boys are on to something. I'll go get some shut eye." Brad stood and ushered them toward their dorm. "You take first watch." Mike smiled appreciatively even as Harry and Ron rolled their eyes.
The next several weeks were a blur for Harry. As if classwork and the looming threat of a murderous convict couldn't keep him busy enough, Oliver Wood had made a compelling case that this was their year to win the Quidditch Cup. He was very passionate about it, this being his last year to win before graduating and leaving Hogwarts all together.
So Harry found himself busier than ever before. If he wasn't working on homework with Ron and Hermione, he was out on the Quidditch pitch practicing for the big duel with Slytherin. With the weather worsening as time wore on, Harry was often drenched by the time practice was over.
Worse still, the feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin was only getting worse as the days ticked down toward the first game of the season. As team zealotry increased, several scuffles were broken up in the halls, and both houses lost more than a few points for outbursts in class about each other.
Therefore, it was a shock when Harry was confronted by a panicked Oliver during breakfast a few days before the game. Harry, Ron and Hermione had taken to eating many of their meals with the operators at their own table, finding that food was easier to get their hands on at the smaller table and the company was enjoyable enough.
"It's not going to be Slytherin!" The exclamation startled Harry, who hadn't seen Wood approach from behind.
"What's that?" Harry bumbled his response through a mouthful of eggs.
"We aren't playing Slytherin! I was just told." Wood composed himself a bit and continued. "Marcus, their captain, he said that Malfoy can't play. That his arm is still healing. We're playing Hufflepuff now."
"What?" was all Harry could manage. He was certain that Malfoy was faking it, the weasel.
"We have been practicing all the wrong moves, Hufflepuff plays completely different. We will have to practice a lot harder now." Wood turned to leave. "I've got to tell the others. Double practice tonight!" he called out as he left.
"They're probably worried about the weather, it's been rather poor lately," Hermione said.
"Rotten cheats, they are," Ron shot a dirty look toward the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was making a show of nursing his arm. Pansy and several other girls were caring for him, cutting his food for him and giving him a great deal of attention.
"Hmm…" Mike grabbed at the backpack that was next to the table and rifled through it, producing a football. Hermione recognized it immediately, but was unsure where he was going with it. He simply winked at her perplexed look and stood up.
"Oy! MALFOY!" he called across the room. Most of the attention in the Great Hall shifted to Mike, including that of Draco. As soon as the blonde looked up, Mike hurled the ball straight at Malfoy's face. "Catch!"
Malfoy yelped slightly in surprise, and without thinking snatched the ball, preventing it from striking him in the face. Flushed with rage, Malfoy stood up, holding the ball in both hands. It took him a full second to realize everyone in the room was staring at him, Mike smiling widely.
"Great catch!" Mike sat, still obviously pleased with himself. Malfoy's face reddened, a mixture of anger and embarrassment. He sat quickly. Everyone saw him quickly catch a ball with both arms, which were both obviously working. Pansy rubbed his back in comfort even as the others scooted away.
"That was brilliant!" Ron whispered excitedly.
"I knew he was faking it," Harry smiled broadly at the public embarrassment of their nemesis.
"Now everyone does." Even Hermione was smiling.
Several hours later, the third year Gryffindors, along with Mike and Jason, filed into the school's current favorite classroom, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lupin had rapidly become a favorite professor, his subjects often interesting and his methods often involving practical application.
"I wonder what it'll be today," one of the other Gryffindor students called into the class. Usually Professor Lupin was already in the room, prepared to start lessons. The students were using the spare time to speculate.
"We're due to start on hinkypunks," Hermione called out, and a few heads nodded in agreement, as though they too knew this.
"I think-" Dean Thomas was cut off as the door slammed open, startling the occupants of the Defense classroom.
"Turn to page 394." Professor Severus Snape strolled into the class rapidly, his cloak trailing behind him.
"Where's Lupin?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. Defense Against the Dark Arts was his favorite subject by far, and Lupin his favorite professor. It was a nightmare scenario to have Lupin replaced by Snape.
"Professor Lupin is ill, page 394." Snape snarled, reaching the front of the classroom and turning sharply.
"Werewolves? Sir, we aren't due to start-" Hermione started, but was cut short by the professor.
"Miss Granger, I was under the impression that I am teaching the class." He paused shortly, staring her down. Mike, seated near her shifted uncomfortably. Not due to the gaze of the professor, but due to a standing order not to interrupt class. "I am telling you to turn to page 394." The class hesitated, but the professor only gave them a moment. "Now!" The class was briefly louder as books flew from packs and pages turned, until everyone was ready.
"How do you tell the difference between a werewolf and a true wolf?" Snape asked aloud. No one answered immediately, even as Hermione shot her arm into the air. Snape let the uncomfortable silence hang. "Anyone? Are you telling me that Professor Lupin has not-"
'Sir," Parvati cut him off. "As we tried to tell you, we have not gotten that-" Snape's response was sharp, enough so that she cowered slightly in her chair.
"Silence!" he shouted. "That will be ten points from Gryffindor for your ill manners." Snape eyed the rest of the class before continuing. "Honestly, I never thought I'd meet a third year group who couldn't distinguish a werewolf from a true wolf…"
"Please, sir," Hermione was almost bursting out of her seat. "A werewolf differs in a number of slight ways…." Snape turned and stared her down.
"Miss Granger, I tire of your constant interruptions when I speak. That'll be ten points for being an insufferable know-it-all." Hermione's shoulders slumped in defeat even as Mike's squared in challenge.
"You asked a question, she answered. Seems like that's the point of school." Mike met Snape's stare square in the eye.
"I have been instructed to allow you to remain in the classroom," Snape didn't break eye contact. "I do not, however, have to allow you to interrupt my class."
"It'd be a lot easier to keep quiet if you didn't pick on everyone." Mike leaned back in his chair, making a show of relaxing. "Never been a fan of bullies, you know?" Snape paused, just slightly, caught off guard by the blatant callout.
"I cannot instruct you to leave this class, but that does not go the same for the others." Snape looked from Mike to Hermione. "Miss Granger, if you do not leash your puppy, I will put you in detention." Snape turned and began scrawling on the chalkboard, even as Hermione gave Mike a pleading look. Mike took a tough swallow and nodded his head once.
The rest of the class consisted of a fortunately detailed course on werewolves, interspersed with the insults and degrading remarks expected of the potions professor. When the class was over, they were informed that they would be required to write a two page essay on how to identify and kill a werewolf.
"That was some serious bullshit," Mike said aloud as they exited into the hall.
"It's nothing I haven't heard before," Hermione said, watching her shoes as she walked. Harry and Ron stayed silent, knowing that worse had been said by the professor.
"That's what's bullshit," Mike was heated, there was no two ways about it. He didn't take kindly to the bullying type, and was astonished that Snape was so brazen about it. He'd known the professor was a dick, but this was a lot.
"Potter!" a voice called from just down the hall. The trio plus Mike stopped to see Draco Malfoy surrounded by a gang of his Slytherin cronies. "Thought that was funny this morning, did you?"
"Man," Mike sighed under his breath, inaudible to the rest of the group. He was less in the mood to deal with the little brat at the moment.
"Your arm seems alright," Hermione said, noting the way Draco had charged forward, not nursing it at all. After the stunt that morning, it would have been futile anyways.
"No one asked you," Malfoy's look of pure disgust surprised Mike. He had known that there was no love lost between Gryffindor and Slytherin, but this appeared to be a whole new level. "Filthy mudblood." The term was lost on Mike, but one glance at Hermione told him all he needed to know. The look of hurt on her face was one he wouldn't soon forget, and he was going to make sure Malfoy didn't either.
"Right," Mike said, closing the distance between Malfoy and himself in one step and slugging the blonde square in the jaw. There was an audible crack and the Slytherin dropped to the ground. Mike didn't spare him a look, instead eyeing the rest of the Slytherin crew. "Anyone else?" They backed up, and Mike nodded. "Good."
"Let's get a move on," Jason had caught up in time to see Mike knock Draco unconscious. He knew Mike, and knew that he wouldn't do it without some sort of cause.
"Kingpin, Reaper 3, send a medic to the DADA hall." Mike spoke into his radio, crouching over Draco, who was holding his face. "Immediate response, trauma to the face." Mike unkeyed his radio and ignored the response from Kingpin as he whispered to the pained student. "Say it again and you're gonna swallow your teeth." He stood up, patting Draco on the shoulder. "Good talk." He rejoined the group and they left, silent.