Chapter 18
"You really took those mirror curses to heart," Bill commented, glancing around Number 14.
The Weasley Cursebreaker had dropped by unexpectedly during one of his rare visits home. I hadn't exactly been overrun with business, so I had plenty of time to entertain him—even if his stories about his adventures in the tombs of Egypt were providing most of the amusement.
"Yeah, with a bit of tweaking they were quite versatile," I said, following his gaze around the shopfloor. I knew the feature that had prompted the observation was the front window. Once I had settled in properly, I'd bewitched the display window—and all the other windows in my flat too, to be precise—with a variation on the same curse that had ensnared me for several hours all those years ago. The effect I was aiming for was that anyone attempting to break in via defenestration would find themselves ejected elsewhere via a reflective surface elsewhere. I'd tested it by throwing a stone at the window and found myself dropping from the top window of the house the moment the rock touched the glass. I'd prepared Cushioning charms in advance, of course.
"Only you, Poe," Bill said, shaking his head, bemused as I related the details of that particular incident. "I'm sure I don't even want to ask about what other abominations of reason and logic you have in place to protect your flat. If you used even half the spells you were planning to... okay, it still wouldn't be quite as dangerous as some of the tombs, but I still wouldn't want to take a chance."
"I'll take that as a compliment." I smirked and levitated a box of merchandise out of the backroom. An order had come in earlier via owl and needed assembly before being sent out for delivery.
"'As paranoid as Mad-Eye Moody', remember? You're a bloody lunatic, Poe." Bill still spoke in jest and the jab didn't hurt. It actually reminded me of the few proper exchanges I'd had with friends in my previous life. I smiled, unbidden.
Our conversation was cut short by the shop's entrance opening. The bells I'd bewitched and hung by the doorframe chimed a simple three-note melody as Frank made his way inside, a smile on his face and a paper bag in his arms.
"Frank, how are you today?" I said, waving to my neighbour from behind the counter. I saw Frank and Henry most days when I dropped by for a bite to eat. I'd been busy this morning though and not found time to visit the café.
"Well enough, Poe. Well enough. Care to introduce me to your friend here?" Frank still smiled, but his eyes had shifted to Bill, patently curious.
"Ah, this is Bill Weasley, an old schoolfriend of mine," I explained. "He used to tutor me in Potions. Now he does Cursebreaking for Gringotts."
"Ah, Cursebreaking! Such a glamorous profession. How do you do?"
"Quite well, thank you," Bill said, standing straight from where he'd been leaning against one of the display tables to shake Frank's hand. The older wizard had to shuffle the bag he carried to his other hand in order to accept, not that he seemed to mind much. "I've been in Egypt for the last while and am just passing through for week or so. Originally I was going to spend most of my time with my family, but they visited me in Egypt instead, so I decided to check up on Poe for a little while. How about you?"
"I'm doing alright, thank you. I run the café next door with my partner, Henry. I don't get out much these days, but there's usually a nice crowd passing through Whimsik so I get by. It's nice and peaceful here. Not like it used to be..."
"Long may the peace continue," Bill muttered fervently. Frank just nodded in agreement, a far-off look in his eyes adding to my suspicions about why he never talked about his family.
I kept quiet. I knew that the peace may not last much longer. With luck, things wouldn't get as bad as it did before... But how bad would it get? What would happen to quiet, happy, little Whimsik Alley if there Death Eaters in place of Aurors and Dementors on the prowl? How would Frank and Henry—aging but joyful—react to having to go through yet another war and a rekindling of one they'd thought long won at that?
I didn't talk much for the rest of the afternoon. Bill and Henry were used to my more pensive moods by this point and left me to my thoughts while they chatted about... Quidditch, politics, maybe a few other things? My mind dwelled on my workshop, where projects lay in various states of semi-completion. Projects that might give us a slight edge, might give my... Might give my friends a better chance of survival.
I had work to do.
—tN—tN—tN—
A silvery form passed through my workshop's ceiling and resolved into a shimmering phoenix before speaking in Albus's voice.
"As you requested, Poe, I am by myself in my office with the lighter you gave me on my desk. Whatever experiment you wished to perform, you may begin."
Message delivered, the Patronus dissolved, leaving the basement lit only by the enchanted flames dancing in their lanterns. I closed and tucked away my watch, no longer needing to count the minutes until I received Albus's confirmation. Instead, I turned my attention to the cigarette lighter on the table before me.
It was larger than most Muggle lighters and made of sturdy metal rather than plastic. It bore a distinct resemblance, in fact, to Dumbledore's Deluminator. This item was of my creation rather than the headmaster's though and was intended for a very different purpose. Picking it up, I flicked the lid open and ignited a steady flame. A discreet press of a switch hidden in the side of the lighter turned the flame a vivid green.
"Albus Dumbledore," I said, speaking as clearly as I could. The flame guttered and dimmed for a moment before flaring back to its previous brightness. "Can you hear me, Albus?"
"Indeed I can and very surprised to be able to do so, I can tell you." Dumbledore's voice sounded from the lighter as clearly as though he were standing in the room, the tinniness that had plagued earlier prototypes resolved by the judicious use of sound-modifying charms. "Would I be correct in saying that this is in some way derived from the Floo Network?"
"Yes, though it is of course entirely separate from it. Furthermore, this network will not permit the transmission of solid objects, only sound. At the moment anyway. I have theories about images and the like may be sent, but I've excluded them for the moment. For simplicity's sake."
"I see, I see, quite remarkable. The Floo Network has been employed as a means of communication as well as transport for quite some time. While effective, it does rather lack in the way of comfort. This is intended to be portable I take it, rather than rooted to one residence as its predecessor is?"
"Yes. I don't think the network will hold together if you try and make a call too far from Britain, but you can move around as freely as you wish within that range. I tested it via Apparition last week. I set up a wireless and set it playing on one end of an open connection and Apparated further and further away until I could no longer hear it. I'd wager you'd still be able to connect in Ireland or parts of France, but not much further."
"I see. And is it secure?"
"Yes. I think so. Since the network isn't as heavy-duty as the Floo network, it doesn't have as obvious an infrastructure to be targetted or manipulated. Theoretically, you could gain unauthorised access to the network if you can get a hold of one of these units, but I have taken extensive anti-tamper measures. I used flesh memories to bond each one with a specific person and memorise their name. Thereafter, only that person can open or operate any given lighter.
"I'm sure you'll want to examine the protections yourself and I understand that I'm unlikely to get the sample I sent you back in one piece, but I'm confident that it will not be easy to crack. There's a switch hidden on the bottom that will engage a privacy silencer, preventing anyone but the holder from hearing either end of the conversation."
"My, my, I wasn't sure what you would come up with when you said you were working on developing secure communications. Last I checked you were working on books and mirrors that could share their contents. This is a more recent innovation, I take it?"
"Yes. I'm still working on the others, but this was easier to implement en-masse in a shorter timeframe. I'll complete the others and release them for the general populace once we've dealt with... Him."
"Quite sensible. When you said you could make these en-masse, how many can you supply me with at the moment?"
"I made a baker's dozen of this batch, so I've got eleven more at the moment. I can have the same amount again in a week's time if you need them."
"Please do. I have yet to reconvene the Order in full, but it would be best to familiarise those that I have reached out to with these. Once I have verified their security, of course. Alastor will probably want to take a 'crack' at them as well, to borrow your terminology."
"Shall I set aside half a dozen for testing purposes then?" I said, putting on a weary sigh.
"That may be the wisest. Now, if there is no dire news that you need to convey—"
"There isn't."
"—then only one question remains. How do I turn the connection off?"
"Just close the lid and it'll stop," I said. "Have a good evening, Professor. I'll see you soon with the re—"
The flame went out and I shook my head. I'd invented the magical equivalent of a mobile phone and been cut off mid-sentence in the inaugural conversation. Ah well, it had to happen sometime.
—tN—tN—tN—
"Remember, be careful not to touch them if you aren't going to be using them," I cautioned Albus as I placed the package of lighters on his desk. "I considered making it possible to reset the owner, but decided it created an unnecessary vulnerability in the security."
"I like how this one thinks," Moody said, grinning slightly from where he stood in a corner of the room, eye spinning constantly.
It was a fortnight after my remote conversation with Albus and I'd brought the others I'd promised to deliver to Albus in person. When I arrived in the office, I'd been... Not overly surprised, since Albus had specifically mentioned bringing in the ex-auror to examine the devices. So I was moderately surprised to find him waiting alongside the headmaster.
The man had stayed silent as I entered the office and exchanged pleasantries with Albus, his magic eye roving over my form as if scanning for hidden threats. If that was his purpose, he was not disappointed. I had a number of devices and concoctions stowed in various places around my person for use in the event of a sudden disaster. I'd half-expected to be cursed where I stood for bringing potential weapons into the room and had my wand held ready beneath the package. It only occurred to me as I set the package down that it would not have concealed my wand from Mad Eye's gaze in the slightest. And yet I'd crossed the room unmolested.
"Rare of you to form such a positive opinion so quickly, Alastor," Albus said, glancing back at Moody and apparently as surprised as I was at the ex-auror's approval.
"I didn't say I liked them," Moody insisted. "I said I liked the way they thought. Too many fools with more brains than sense try and fit ten shades of wonder into every little bauble they make and all but hand the lot over to the first crackpot that comes along and thinks they're the second coming of Grindelwald. They're cautious too. Casting detection and privacy spells from the moment they came into the room without letting a bit of it show. Are you satisfied that we're alone and we're all who we say we are yet, kid?"
"No," I said. It wasn't strictly true. I was fairly sure that it was next to impossible to imitate the headmaster and take over his office without leaving obvious signs. And with the warnings from my knowledge of the previous timeline, Albus would have been sure to watch Moody closely for signs of an imposter. I had not specifically verified the identities of the two wizards though, nor had I checked the office thoroughly for spies or espionage.
Drawing my wand, I cast a series of cloudy spheres bouncing around the room to check for invisible or disguised objects. While they bounced unimpeded and found nothing, I swept my wand around the office several times, each time invoking a different detection charm. These ones were unlike my earlier attempts in that they abandoned subtlety in place of power, inflicting curious sensations on anyone touched by them. Finally, I drew another lighter from one of my pockets, this one distinct from the devices I'd bewitched for communication.
When I flicked the new lighter open, it expelled a cloud of cool steam instead of flame. The cloud spread rapidly over the entire office, thinning to the point of being just a faint haze as it stretched over the whole room.
Moody raised a brow, moderately impressed by my checks. I forestalled any conversation by sweeping my wand over the room—now filled completely by the steam—and cast one final charm of my own devising, slamming the lighter shut at the same time. The steam thickened in an instant to full opaqueness before fading into nothing as fast as it had thickened. I lowered my wand and replaced the lighter in my pocket.
"Well, that looked impressive," Moody said. "Let me guess, the little balls of cotton you shot all over the place are supposed to detect or disrupt hidden objects that they might hit. I only recognised half of the Detection charms you used, but they were probably a suite of spells looking for curses, hidden objects, deadly intent and possibly poison. And that last one... A privacy spell of some sort?"
"Mostly correct," I said, nodding. "The initial wave was indeed a scan for hidden objects or people. There were a few other detection spells than what you noted and I have yet to create a reliable means of detecting poison at range. And the steam is intended to 'seal' the room against any kind of eavesdropping or observation. To anyone looking in, this place will appear to be clogged with fog. It'll alert us to any attempt to break through and render legillimency almost impossible within its cover."
"Nice, nice, though you shouldn't have waited for a bloody invitation to use them," Moody said, eye now sliding over the walls as if looking for signs of the steam. "And you still haven't checked I am who I said I am."
"I did," I said. "One of those detection spells informs me if any wands in the room have recently changed ownership or are resentful of its present wielder. Yours is neither and matches the description of the wand attributed to you, so you are likely the real Alastor Moody. I will admit that I've yet to perfect a means of uncovering Polyjuice, so that'll have to suffice. That said, you could conceivably be under the influence of a potion or a spell to act against your nature. If so then... There isn't much I can do about it except to stay vigilant. Unless you'd consent to drink an experimental potion administered by an individual you yourself have noted for being crafty...?"
"Good, good," Moody nodded, seemingly in an excellent mood. "I'm still reserving judgement for the moment Albus, but their practices meet my approval. They've more bleeding sense than half the nitwits in the Ministry at the moment, at least."
"Well, if you'll permit Poe to stay a while, then perhaps we could review some details that I would rather not leave this room?" Albus suggested. "It would be a shame to out the most excellent privacy screen Poe erected to waste, after all."
—tN—tN—tN—
"As things currently stand, Voldemort may return to power within the year," Albus said, hands steepled and eyes fastened on some unseen point far beyond me. "Harry has confided in me and his godfather that he has begun to experience visions from Voldemort, accompanied by sharp pain from his scar. This indicates that Voldemort has already attained a physical body of some sort and is active in Britain once more."
"That's sooner than expected," I said, ignoring the glare I knew Mad Eye's mad eye was likely directed at me while the man himself looked straight ahead. "Pettigrew escaped at the end of last year, ran the moment he realised Sirius was in the castle, but I would have thought it'd take longer than that for him to locate his master."
"I believe he had help," Albus said.
"Who? Most of the Death Eaters not in captivity would have no reason to go with Wormtail no matter what unless... Barty Crouch Senior was arrested around the same time that his sentence was overturned, wasn't he? His house elf would probably have been removed from the property as well, which means..."
"Indeed." Dumbledore grimaced. "I quite forgot to mention that particular detail to the Ministry and by the time it occurred to me, the house was already empty. We found evidence that the house had been searched thoroughly and an unknown amount of items are missing."
"So he's well-funded as well," I muttered. "And unlike Pettigrew, he has no shortage of intelligence or devotion."
"My apologies for interrupting your grand ruminations, but who in the bloody blazes are you both talking about?" Mad Eye said, his real eye twitching.
"My apologies, Alastor, with how stretched I am these days I have quite lost track of who has already been informed of what," Albus said, bowing his head briefly. "We speak of Barty Crouch Junior. To cut a long and sad story short, his dying mother persuaded his father to trick the guards into letting him exchange their places. She passed away while under the effects of Polyjuice while he has remained locked in his father's house under the effects of the Imperius curse."
"That fool," Moody all but snarled. "So quick to make things neat and final and messing everything up royally in the biggest possible manner when it actually counts. Fine, if little Barty is at large, what does that mean?"
"It means that Voldemort has at least one loyal and highly capable follower at his command," Dumbledore continued. "I have done some research and concluded, with some details provided by Harry's visions, that Voldemort's next priority is likely to complete his resurrection. I believe I have ascertained the most likely ritual to do so, as much as it has pained me to peruse such dark magic. I have already arranged a discreet means of keeping watch over the most likely location for the ritual, the graveyard in which Voldemort's father is buried. His bones are among the key ingredients. The others include the flesh of a willing follower, which he will likely source without difficulty and the blood of an enemy."
"Well, that narrows it down nicely," Mad Eye said, both eyes rolling impressively.
"Indeed. Knowing him as I do, however, it is most likely that he will attempt to specifically use Harry's blood for the ritual. In part because of the symbolism that would assuage his injured pride and in part because he believes it would allow him to circumvent the protections that run through Harry's blood."
"And will it? Let him get at the boy, I mean."
"Indeed it would, though not without some considerable side-effects on both parties."
Moody fell silent then, deep in thought. I used the quiet to address the headmaster.
"Are you quite sure that none of the staff members have been subverted or replaced? Or the students, for that matter?"
"I have checked the staff myself and do so again frequently. Checking the entire student body on a regular basis is neither practical or appropriate, so I have instead devised of a more elegant solution."
Dumbledore reached beneath his desk and pulled out an old and folded piece of parchment. I blinked before placing it and grinning.
"That would work, but what if you aren't checking the Map? It wouldn't take long to sneak in and steal a student if he took the guise of a professor. A smash and grab kidnapping, you could call it."
"Indeed, which is why I have, over the last few weeks, replicated the spells used to expose people's identities and transferred them to something else." He nodded towards one of the silver instruments on his table, specifically a bell hanging by itself in midair. "It will ring if Barty Crouch, either of them, enter the castle or if anyone else suspected of being affiliated with Voldemort attempts to do so."
"Excluding Professor Snape and including Riddle himself, I presume?" I asked, a note of snarkiness slipping in.
"Quite, along with a few other, more subtle loopholes."
"What about Hogsmeade? If Sirius gave permission, which he probably did, then Harry visits semi-regularly, right?"
"Also dealt with. Anytime a Hogsmeade weekend comes up we deploy additional aurors and hit wizards to the village for student safety. They are informed to keep an especially close eye on Harry and anyone acting suspicious around him."
"'Acting suspicious' around the Boy Who Lived? Oh sure, I can't think of anyone who'd do that who wasn't out to kidnap the boy. No other reason in the world." Moddy broke from his contemplation to scoff the concept. I thought he had a point, but I was also reasonably sure that trained hit wizards and aurors would be able to tell the difference between a fan and a dark witch. Probably.
"To be safe, however, we have arranged a number of measures to prevent the boy from being taken easily and to find him quickly if he is. If you have anything to add on that front then I would be most interested to know about it, Poe. You always come up with the most fascination solutions to problems."
"I—I think I know one or two things that may help," I said, searching my memory. "I'd need to talk to Professor Snape about some of it. And to Mister Moody as well."
"Just call me Mad Eye, everyone else does," the ex-auror barked, "and what do you need me for?"
"The usual methods used to track people and how to break them. So I can work around them and use something that won't be found even if they are. I've read books, lots of books, but they're no substitute for experience. And you've got a lot of that, sir."
"Tracking, eh? I think I know a few tricks I used when I was back in the field. I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall next Thursday at half-past three. I'll be standing behind the third statue to the right of the Great Hall. The password will be 'diagrams wombats eat philosophy'."
"That's half-three in the morning, I take it?" I said, trying to put myself in the shoes of a paranoid ex-auror. Or shoe, technically.
"Correct," Moody nodded approvingly. "If you're this quick a learner then we should have things sorted before I run out of alternate rendezvous points."
"Hopefully," I said, turning back to Dumbledore. "Albus, do you mind if I...?"
"Please feel free to enter and exit the school as you wish, Poe," Albus said, smiling. "I have confidence in your ability to do so discreetly."
The rest of the meeting was devoted to discussing logistics, which I quickly lost track of. I spent the time turning over Dumbledore's request and thinking. There were a number of methods by which I could keep an eye on Harry, at least some of which could probably survive a degree of scrutiny. The problem was that they'd be relatively short-lived and require me to perform them myself.
Hogsmeade weekends weren't that often. I could afford to close up the shop or find someone I trusted to take over it on the days Harry was visiting. Besides, I liked Hogsmeade. It'd be enjoyable to pay a visit every now and then.
A/N: Credit where credit is due, the concept for portable Floo connections for communication purposes originates from Rorschach's Blot's Make a Wish. It's an interesting PoD fic with many original ideas and some fascinating worldbuilding. If you're tired of HP fics that never leave Hogwarts, then please take a look.
