AN: And the pieces start to fall in place... Usual disclaimer, I own nothing. Good reading.
CHAPTER 39 – Vendetta
In groups of twos and threes the rebel students started appearing outside the Room of Requirements in small bursts of flames.
Acquiring the phoenix had been hard and not all of them had agreed in using force with Hermione –who was close with the very short-tempered Chandra– but results could hardly be discussed. Securing the firebird's cooperation was easier once they made it clear that refusal equalled seeing its owner hurt. Leaving the girl stunned when everything was said and done was just logic, or they would have to face the pyromancer's wrath. Ron wasn't proud of that particular exploit, not even close actually, but someone had to start or the slimy snakes of the Inquisitorial Squad would never face justice.
Once everyone had gotten transported in the castle –him coming with the last group to cover their tracks– he gathered the heads of the operation, namely his brothers, Dean and Davis. Apparently the Slytherin girl had no love lost for her own house, and that made her good in his books. She was also one of the few who knew where the Snake Den was.
"Ok, here's the plan: Fred, George, you take a third of us and go get Umbridge in her office. Dean, you take another third to clean house in Ravenclaw. Davis, you're with me and everyone else in the dungeons," he explained fixing his determined gaze on everyone of them in order "All agreed?"
The others nodded. Expression varied from Dean's and Davis' grim determination to his brothers' devious smirk. The three groups started moving in as much silence as possible for tens of teens at a time, which honestly wasn't much.
Ron's own group encountered a Squad's patrol and swiftly dealt with them: no matter how good with a wand they were, ten concussive curses flying their way was enough to take out practically any student. He forced a detour to avoid McGonagall when he spotted her patrolling the lower floor but they ultimately arrived at their destination.
"My dear grandfather always said it's impolite not to knock," said Davis levelling her wand at a bare stretch of wall beyond one of the twins' portable swamps, a dangerous glint in her eyes "Bombarda!"
"Come on guys," instigated Ron before following his own order and casting a blasting hex.
It wasn't subtle, but the time for subtlety was long past.
Results couldn't be argued with, after all.
Despite the many drawbacks to his position, there were some facets of being a teacher that Severus Snape genuinely enjoyed: discovering fellow prodigies in his chosen field was the most obvious one, even if probably the rarest, but he also relished being able to discipline the unruly dunderheads roaming the castle.
Case in point, he had discovered the infamous Weasley twins and other eight students from various years and houses lurking near the headmistress' quarters. He had no love lost for the woman, of course, but he didn't stop them for her sake, nor he did it per Dumbledore's orders; no, he did it for the possibility to finally put those two miscreants in their place.
Or he would have done so had his mark not started to burn before he could make his presence known. Umbridge and the Weasleys would have to wait: the Dark Lord wasn't someone to keep hanging.
As he strode towards the nearest exit to the grounds, he wondered what his supposed master might have wanted. Either he had been personally summoned, which was usually bad but the potion professor could see no reason for that being the case, or it was a blanket call, which could arguably be worse if not for his immediate wellbeing then at least for Britain at large.
Once crossed the ward line he apparated directly inside Nott's mansion in the designated room, then strode towards the large salon the Dark Lord had commandeered. It had indeed been a blanket summon, as apparent from the assembled Death Eaters in full uniform, so Severus steeled himself, checked his occlumency shields, and went to kneel in his usual spot.
He dearly hoped it would be just a general meeting.
As soon as the last summoned came to kneel in their proper place, the Dark Lord got up from the ornate chair he had been sitting on and started –not without his usual grandstanding– detailing his plan to gain control of the Ministry.
"No more cloak and dagger, my friends," hissed the pale wizard gesturing with his bone-white wand as he paced in front of his servants "The time has come for us to strike and win. In two hours time we'll march on the Ministry and claim what is ours by right!"
Nobody spoke or twitched. Even the most hard-headed of them had soon learned not to interrupt their master, least they suffer his displeasure.
"We'll be divided in four groups," went on the Dark Lord, obviously pleased either with the attention he was getting or the plan he was describing "Four of you will stay back with Severus to care for the injured. The others will follow either me, Bella or Lucius in the attack. We'll apparate in the main floor and sweep every office until only the loyal remain."
The potion master kept a stoic face as he committed every facet of the plan to memory, but he was already planning how to get some privacy to send a patronus to Dumbledore, or things were going to rapidly turn bleak for the unprepared Ministry.
Rebels incoming. All hostile. Hide.
The message on the charmed galleon Pansy used to communicate with Lady Vess was concise but very clear, much like the dark witch herself. So the Slytherin girl didn't ponder over it too long before stunning Millicent, bonding her with an incarcerus, dumping her out of the door to her room, and finally barricading said entrance with every piece of furniture she could spare.
And not a moment too soon! She had just levitated the last bed to act as a secondary line to defend herself when the rumbling started. She guessed the rebels were trying to gain access to the common room by blasting the entrance. It sounded stupid but it actually was far from unbelievable to be perfectly honest, with enough wands that is.
The girl dearly hoped her preparations would prove to be enough. She didn't feel the necessity to see if she measured up to the students trained by professor Nalaar.
In a shower of brilliant flames and molten matter, Chandra and Liliana emerged in Myrtle' bathroom from what had been a sink, riding a literal wave of skeletal rodents. From her stall, Myrtle stared speechless at the scene.
"I told you they weren't useless, dear," smugly commented the necromancer as she sprawled over her minions, who carried her like an old age noblewoman over their backs.
"Yeah yeah, whatever," replied the pyromancer, who was being carried with far less grace or care "Make those things drop me: I can walk just fine."
The creaking horde stopped at a gesture from their mistress, letting the two planeswalkers regain their footing. Immediately after that, a sizable part of the rodents rushed out of the bathroom.
"They'll scout for us," explained Liliana leaning against one of the stalls "The students have almost an hour on us by now, this levels the field a bit. Since we have time, what are we going to do to our wayward pupils once we found them?"
"We'll spank them like the unruly children they are!" muttered Chandra as she paced up and down the lavatory.
"You do realize some of them are older than you, right?" asked the necromancer with a sly smirk.
The answering glare could have set her on fire.
"Just saying, dear," said Liliana shrugging.
As the pyromancer was getting back to trying to burrow a trench in the floor by walking alone, a silvery doe arrived trough a wall and uttered a message in Snape's voice:
"They're attacking the Ministry in an hour, send help."
Its message delivered, the spectral creature jumped down the colossal hole in the ground towards the Chamber.
"By the Blazes!" hissed Chandra repressing the urge to bash her head against the nearby wall "Can this day get any worse?"
"You don't really want me to answer that, do you?"