in an
Unholy Land
Chapter XIV
One Man's Terrorist
Is Another Man's Freedom Fighter
"Fear will hold you prisoner,
Hope cane set you free"
Tagline from the Shawshank Redemption
The air was suddenly alive with curses as a full-scale battle erupted in the streets of the quiet village of Hogsmeade. Beams of light shot through the air like morbid rainbows, cascading down into the street. Members of the crowd raised shields in time to deflect some curses, which rebounded into shop windows, shattering the glass. Displays burst into flame as volleys of curses ricocheted through the air. Another volley of curses left the rooftops as the Aurors fired again.
"INCOMING!"
Harry raised his shield in time to block in incoming curse, which bounced back, shattering the canopy of a shop to his left. He turned, his eyes sweeping for the nearest exit. To his horror, he saw lines of men in black with 'Auror' written across their chests at every entrance and every exit to the square: they were cut off! The Black Watch looked sinister marching in unison with their faces hidden and their wands levelled at the crowd.
Suddenly a curse impacted near Harry's feet, spraying him with debris. Shrugging it off, Harry turned back to the Aurors on the roof and balconies above them. The protesters were surrounded, and Crouch had the high ground. But this wasn't a battle; this wasn't a war! This was a protest and the protesters were children. How could they get away with this? How could they fire on helpless children? If they fought back they would be arrested, if they did nothing and they would be killed! They had passed the point of no return; Harry aimed a curse at the balcony above him, where three Aurors were raining curses down on a crowd now running around in panic. Several members of the crowd were firing jinxes back at the Aurors, while others ran for cover. It was pandemonium. Harry's aim was true and the curse he sent shattered the support beam of the balcony, causing the whole thing to collapse. The heavy metal and brick structure combined with falling bodies came crashing down on top of the Black Aurors on the street beneath it. What had been a sinister row of black-clad killers had been crushed by a cascade of brick, metal and bodies. It opened up an exit from the square, allowing people to escape. They had to get as many people out as possible.
Most of the students were running around in blind panic. Harry grabbed anyone near enough and practically threw them back towards the castle; towards the gap he had created. He saw one young girl heading straight for one set of Aurors. What the hell was she doing? He could see that they would not hesitate to kill her. He could only think of one thing to do.
"Stupefy!" he shouted, unleashing a red ball of energy towards the girl. It hit her in the small of the back and she fell flat on her face, unmoving. At least she was alive. God damn it! How dare Crouch do this? The son of a bitch was killing children! All around him he could see bodies; some of them were first years. Christ, what have I done? wondered Harry, staring in shock into the lifeless eyes of a young girl.
"Harry!" Ginny emerged from the scramble and grabbed him, pulling him out of the way of a curse he had never seen coming. "Harry, we have to go!" she panted in his ear.
"What have I done?" muttered Harry, staring at the fallen girl. "It's all my fault."
"Harry, snap out of it!" said Ginny, slapping him across the cheek. "You have to focus. Most people are alive! We are all really scared and we need you! Only you can get us out of here. Let's get the others home; now focus, soldier!" Harry nodded, the slap having awoken him from his stupor.
"BACK TO THE CASTLE!" shouted Harry. He could see that his parents had taken cover behind the upturned garden bench and were firing hexes at the Aurors in black. Dung was positioned by the Post Office, in a bush by the front door. The Order were taking heavy fire as they tried to distract the Aurors. There were so many! There were six entrances to the square, and all but one was blocked by five Aurors. There were another twenty or so on the roofs. That made fifty of the bastards!
He grabbed the nearest students and spun them around to face the castle, shouting 'RUN' at the top of his voice. He could see his parents, Dung and Dawlish firing hexes into the ranks of the Black Watch. The ground in front of Harry suddenly exploded; he was sent flying, along with three other students. He had never seen the curse coming! His ears ringing from the explosion, Harry lay on the hard cobbled street, groaning in pain. Struggling to sit up, he fired a Blasting Curse straight back at the Aurors, blowing a hole in the wall just in front of them. His aim was off due to the throbbing in his head and ears. He glanced around to see Ginny shepherding people out of the free entrance. She and her brother had taken cover near the exit and were firing curses at the Aurors. The square was surrounded on three sides, and the enemy were professionals. The students didn't have a hope in hell! Harry could see the devastation everywhere he looked. Most of the students had started back up the hill, curses raining down around them. Harry guessed there were around forty-to-fifty bodies in the street. A handful of them were Aurors, a handful were villagers, but the majority were students. Harry didn't know how many were dead and how many were merely incapacitated or unconscious. Harry was suddenly reminded of the photograph he had see of the day Sirius had been arrested for the murder of Peter Pettigrew.
Harry had led his friends into the valley of death, and they would pay with their lives. It was all his fault. Turning his anger to Crouch, Harry dived into cover and took aim at the Aurors on the roof. A series of blasting curses left his wand, hurtling towards the roof opposite him. Only one actually hit an Auror; the others just blew apart the roof and chimney, causing the Aurors to duck for cover. Using this to his advantage, Harry ran out from under cover, hurtling as fast as he could towards the building on the far side of the square; the one he had just blasted. Curses rained down like hail around him, missing him by inches. He was vaguely aware of Crouch screaming "KILL HIM" but he ignored it, running faster and faster until he was almost there and then he jumped.
Wingardium Leviosa!
Turning his wand on himself, Harry levitated himself upwards, effectively jumping from the ground up onto the roof of the building. Harry landed a little shakily on the roof, now full of holes from his earlier curses and the battering it had taken from others. Parts of the tiled roof had fallen through, leaving a hole through which Harry could see a bedroom. Glancing around to other roofs, the situation was the same. On the two thatched roofs across the square, fire had erupted, shooting plumes of black smoke into the sky. The smell of burning reached his nostrils. The street was in ruins, and the buildings all had large holes in them and scorch marks on the walls.
Harry turned his attention back his own roof where the three surviving Aurors were getting to their feet. Harry didn't hesitate. He kicked one of them in the ribs with enough force to send the Auror over the edge. With a scream, the man disappeared from the rooftop. Harry turned to face the next Auror, who levelled a wand at him. Harry grabbed the wrist, twisting it so that the wand faced the other Auror, just in time for the Killing Curse to be fired. Harry had used the first Auror's spell to kill the second. Harry's manoeuvres left only one Auror remaining. As the man lunged at him, Harry sidestepped, leaving the man running towards the edge. He only just managed to stop in time, leaving himself wobbling on the edge. All Harry had to do was kick and the final Auror plummeted down to the hard street below. Harry glanced to his right. On the next building were three Aurors firing down on where his parents had been minutes ago, but had now disappeared. Beyond that was a building on fire and then in the corner stood Crouch on a cottage rooftop, overlooking the devastation. The shouts of curses, the screams and the thundering footsteps had died down, but the smell of death and fire was getting worse.
Harry ran towards the edge and turned his wand on himself, levitating himself over the gap and onto the next building. Without stopping he ran to the far edge; the Aurors hadn't even noticed him as he passed. He jumped again, using his wand. He was launched twenty metres into the air, over the top of the fire. As he emerged from the plume of smoke, he saw Crouch stare up at him as he sailed down towards him. Crouch reached for his wand, his eyes never leaving Harry. To his horror, he saw Crouch remove a can of Coke from his pocket.
"NO!"
With a last sneer at Harry, Crouch tapped the Portkey and disappeared with a pop. Harry landed half a second later, right where Crouch had stood.
"DAMN IT!" he shouted. Cursing to himself, Harry looked down over the square, or what was left of it. The burned pamphlets now blew in the breeze over the sea of fallen bodies. The gutters ran crimson with blood. There were still one or two survivors. Harry jumped down from the roof, using a hovering charm to soften the impact. His knees complaining against the impact, Harry ducked behind some dustbins in the alley behind the Three Broomsticks. The building had taken many hits and the woodwork was splintered and full of holes. Luckily it wasn't on fire. It seemed that the battle was over.
Harry counted at least ten Aurors in black stepping over the fifty or so bodies that littered the streets. Harry could not see any other movement. He glanced up at the rooftop, which now seemed deserted as more Aurors emerged from the houses, having descended the stairs and joined their team mates in the square, looking for survivors. The banner the protestors had erected had been ripped down and the street was in ruins following the conflict. Looking up the hill, Harry could see flashes of light as the students were pursued up the hill, towards the castle.
"Get a Mediwitch from St Mungo's here ASAP," ordered one of the Aurors. "Get our lot back to the Med-Centre at the Complex and get any survivors to St Mungo's. Take names."
"What of those that got away?" asked an Auror.
"Rookwood can deal with them," said the boss. "We only want the Potter brat anyway."
This had all been about him! It really was his fault. Harry clenched his fists in anger from where he was hidden. How could he have been so stupid? Crouch was a monster; this was never beyond him. Harry had misjudged the situation and many had paid with their lives. He had to make sure the rest got back to the castle; he had to make sure Rose was okay.
Harry took a deep breath. Calling up his Phoenix power, he disappeared, reappearing half way up the hill, just a little way ahead of the front-runners of students. Suddenly there were four cracks as four more Black Aurors appeared in front of them, blocking their escape. The students stopped running as they saw that their path was blocked. Harry pulled out the Stun-Baton again.
"Ellectio!" he shouted. The baton burst to life, emitting a bright blue light. Harry charged towards the Aurors from behind. They never saw him coming, but the students did. Harry crashed into the back of the middle two Aurors, knocking them to the floor ground.
"Keep running!" shouted Harry, rolling back up onto his feet. He slammed the baton into the head of one Auror, then into the mid-section of another. The curse was pure lightning and so electrocuted anyone it touched. The Aurors crashed to the ground, blue lightning snaking over their bodies until they were unconscious.
"Expelliarmus!" shouted one of the Aurors. Harry cursed as the Baton was forced from his hands. He was knocked backwards and ended up on his arse on the street, and was forced to roll to the side, narrowly avoiding an incoming curse. Withdrawing his wand, Harry turned in time to conjure a shield to block the next. The curse bounced back off the shield and hit the Auror who had cast it. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"Backup!" shouted the last Auror to someone or other. "I need backup now. I'm at…."
"Silencio!" shouted Harry, preventing the Auror from calling for help. "Stupefy!" Since the man could not speak, he could not conjure a strong enough shield to block the stunner and he crashed to the floor.
"Harry!" shouted a voice. He spun to see who had shouted his name. His blood ran cold as he saw an Auror holding Rose around the neck with one hand and around the waist with the other. She was thrashing in his grip, but he was too big and strong. As he began to drag her away, she screamed again.
"Harry!"
The Auror moved the hand from her throat to cover her mouth. They were thirty feet away from him, and Harry had no chance of hitting the Auror without hurting Rose. Igniting the baton with a stunner, Harry began to charge forward. Suddenly a series of pops filled the air. There were now another ten Aurors between Harry and Rose. Harry stopped in his tracks as his sister was dragged away down the hill.
Rose was his sister; he couldn't let them get away! He was outnumbered, but he didn't care. He charged forward, the baton raised and his wand unleashing a stunner. He had taken about three steps when a pair of hands grabbed him.
He instinctively threw his elbow back towards the man's head.
"Harry! It's me!" hissed a voice. He turned to see his father holding him. "Come with me!"
"But Rose…!"
"Come with me!" hissed James, dragging him into the forest, narrowly escaping a volley of hexes that blew apart the trees. They ran for about thirty seconds, deep into the forest where no Auror could find them. Luckily, by now the students were all back in the castle - those who were conscious that was but where the hell was dad taking him? Why didn't he care about Rose?
"Dad," said Harry, running alongside him. "We have to go back for Rose."
"No, I have to go back for Rose," said James, stopping and turning to face Harry.
"I can help!" protested Harry. She was his sister and he had to help her. He couldn't sit around while she was in danger.
"No!" hissed James. "Listen to me, Harry. After this, you will be arrested, that is if they don't kill you on sight. I will go after Rose. You must start running again. I don't know if the Prophecy is true, but even if it isn't, your mother has been captured, and Rose along with her. My place is with my family."
"And mine isn't?" snapped Harry.
"You and Sirius are the only surviving members of the Order with any form of combat training and experience," said James. "You are part of our family now, but you are also a soldier. You and Sirius must go on, for the sake of the country. I can protect our family, but who will be out there to find us, who will keep the world safe for us to come back to? You must go on, Harry, please. Sirius will meet you in the Hog's Head at three o'clock."
"But Rose…" insisted Harry. He had to find her.
"…is my daughter," said James. "The Order must survive. I will take care of our family, Harry. You take care of the students, of the Order. You are in command, now; they are your responsibility."
The next thing Harry knew, his father had pulled him into a hug.
"I'm proud of you, Harry," said James, wrapping his arms tightly around him. "I know this hasn't been easy, but I want you to know, I believe in you. Lily too. You are more of a son to us than he ever was…now, go, Harry, and as your mother would say, Godspeed." With that, he turned and ran back towards the Aurors, disappearing through the trees.
Harry stood still for a few seconds, debating whether to follow. He could help him. He could get Rose back. In that moment, Harry felt closer to Rose than he ever had before. You really don't know what you have until it's gone…to think he had wasted all that time thinking that he shouldn't get involved, trying to distance himself from her and the rest of the family! Idiot! He should have enjoyed the moment, for now she was gone. He had been such an idiot, on so many levels. He wanted her back, but at the same time he had a duty to do. It wasn't fair! Forcing her out of his mind, Harry tried to focus on the job at hand. Cursing to himself, he disappeared in a ball of flame.
He reappeared down the alley behind the Three Broomsticks. Peering out, he could see Healers tending to the piles of bodies that littered the streets. He bowed his head as he noticed a handful with sheets over their heads signifying that they were dead. This was all his doing. He remembered Rookwood's words:
What happens next is on your head too!
Harry disappeared and a millisecond later reappeared at the gates of Hogwarts. He ran across the lawn and into the Entrance Hall. The Hall was full of students crying in each other's arms, while Mediwitches tended to the injured. The sounds of sobbing could be heard from outside. Harry glanced either way before running off towards McGonagall's office. He had to let her know what had happened and he didn't need the guilt trip of walking into the Hall.
Harry did not see a single person on his way. He made it to McGonagall's office in less than three minutes, grateful not to have met anyone on the way; he barged in without knocking. He froze at the sight that greeted him.
McGonagall was sitting behind her desk looking very grim. Snape stood to one side, his face as neutral as ever, while Flamel sat to the other, his eyes weary. On the other side of the desk stood Rookwood, flanked by two Aurors. The scene looked oddly familiar.
"Ah, Potter, do come in," said Rookwood, his usual smirk shining through. "Sit!" he pointed to a chair.
"I'll stand," said Harry, glancing at McGonagall and Snape, both of whose expressions were impossible to read. Harry felt his stomach shrink, knowing that he was now caught. His father's words came back to him. He had to go on, he had to survive. Yet he had done this; he had caused this pain. He had made the situation worse, much worse, and he had gotten so many people killed because of his insane hope that Crouch was honourable. He had miscalculated, and hundreds had paid with blood.
"Are you proud of yourself?" asked Rookwood, ending his stupor. "You violated my order and sent a large number of students into danger. Sixty are injured, nine unaccounted for and the damage to Hogsmeade reaches into the millions of galleons." If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought Rookwood cared. But no, this wasn't his fault. Crouch had knowingly fired on children. How dare he!
"I didn't lead them into danger," snapped Harry, his anger breaking free. "Your Minister ordered the Black Watch to fire on unarmed students, some as young as eleven."
"They wouldn't be there if it wasn't for you!" snapped Rookwood, saying aloud what the voice in Harry's mind was screaming.
"They wouldn't be injured if Crouch hadn't ordered them to fire," retorted Harry, his hand reaching into his belt for his wand.
"The Minister would not launch an unprovoked attack on children," said Rookwood, dismissing Harry with a wave of his hand. "However," he said, turning back to Harry, his eyes glowing with anger. "I have heard that several Aurors were injured in the battle. You have assaulted several Aurors, men and women who serve the law."
"I was there," snapped Harry as he approached Rookwood, his fingers grasping his wand, his anger flowing through him. He was ready to kill Rookwood, ready to choke the air out of him with his bare hands, to watch the life leave his eyes. "He ordered them to fire on us. He turned a peaceful protest into a God damned massacre."
"These defenceless children took out fifteen fully trained Aurors," sneered Rookwood. "Your little Duelling Club has been training an army, or perhaps the Order of the Phoenix, or whatever is left of it, was there." Rookwood had seen through the plan, but Harry's anger put him beyond the point of caring, he was so livid.
"Perhaps," said Harry. "Or perhaps I killed them because they were firing at me." He ignored the warning glare from McGonagall, who subtly shook her head, while Snape rolled his eyes.
"Are you admitting that you attacked Aurors?" asked Rookwood, raising his eyebrows, as if seeing a present on Christmas day.
"You heard," said Harry, unable to control his anger; his fingers itched on his wand.
"I told you this morning," said Rookwood, "that if you ever came back I would arrest you." The bastard didn't have the courage to do it himself and Harry would kill anyone who touched him!
"Only a fool would try and arrest me twice in one day," sneered Harry.
"Take him!" Rookwood snapped at the Aurors. Thank God, he had given Harry an excuse to hit him.
"STUPEFY!" yelled Harry, aiming his wand at the nearest Auror, just as McGonagall sent a similar spell at the other, and Snape at Rookwood. The three Ministry officials collapsed in a shower of red sparks. Harry felt so relieved to have taken one of them down. He gave Rockwood's fallen body a kick for good measure.
"Well this is another fine mess you've got us into, Potter," sneered Snape, putting his wand away.
"Shut up and listen," said Harry, cutting him off. "My parents and Rose have been captured, Dawlish as well. Dad told me to run. I am to meet Sirius and lie low. As he put it, we are the only ones with combat experience. Rookwood now controls Hogwarts and the two of you will be under even more suspicion."
"What do you propose to do?" asked McGonagall, ignoring his rudeness.
"We'll probably go to the Ministry. If we can find out where Dumbledore and the others are, we may be able to get them out. We also need to find Voldemort. With him dead, Crouch's power is broken. In my world, when he fell his power broke. His Death Eaters were in a panic, running blindly around. Most surrendered to Aurors, claiming bewitchment. If we can take out Voldemort, we have a chance at taking the country back."
"That's suicidal," said Snape.
"If you have a better idea, I have my Frog-Card," said Harry. "But right now, I have to run. Tell Ginny that Rose and I are safe. There is no need for her to know Rose has been captured." Harry was aware of how similar the situation was to that of Dumbledore last year, when Fudge had tried to arrest him. "Now, before I go, I have to Stun the pair of you. It has to look like you tried to detain me and I broke free. Rookwood will wake up in a few minutes and revive you."
"He may have us sent to Azkaban and assume total control of Hogwarts," said Snape.
"Got a better idea?" asked Harry. "We are out of time."
"So be it," said McGonagall. "Good luck, Harry."
Harry nodded and drew his wand. He muttered two Stunners, before disappearing in a ball of flame.
He reappeared in the same alley he had hidden in half an hour earlier. Healers were still running about, tending the last of the wounded. The Black Watch were still walking around, 'keeping the peace' - or so they called it. As one came near the end of the alley, Harry muttered a summoning charm, and as the Auror flew over to him, he swung the stun baton at him, catching him in mid-air. One minute later, Harry was dressed as a Black Watch Auror. The veil covered his face, and the people were scared to try and stop him. It seemed like a good cover.
XXXXX
At three o'clock, Sirius Black Apparated to the forest on the edge of Hogsmeade. He peered out through the trees at the destruction. Two buildings had smoking thatched roofs, though the fires had been put out, leaving a blacked roof and walls. All the buildings had chunks missing from the walls, and scorch marks over what was left of them. There were perhaps twenty bodies covered in sheets in the square; some of them looked pretty small for adults. Merlin, they had fired on school children. He had heard the news from James that it had gone tits-up, but he had no idea it was this bad. How could Crouch justify this? Sirius knew his face would be wanted, so he quickly changed into a dog. Cautiously, he made his way out into the square, and over towards the alley that led to the Hog's Head. As he passed, he could see more of the grim details of the bodies. His sensitive canine nose supplied him with the magnified smell of death, stronger than a human would have smelt it. Sirius felt sick as he padded over towards the alley.
"HEY!" shouted a voice. Sirius froze, worried that his registered form had been recognised. An Auror was running over towards him. "Bastard dog!" he snapped, throwing a rock at Sirius, who jumped out the way. "Leave these people alone. They are not food! Go scavenge somewhere else!" Sirius didn't hang around; he bolted towards the alley and disappeared into the shadows. He found himself outside the door to the Hog's Head. He pushed it open with his nose. Once inside, he reassumed his human form. He had had the sense to change his clothes from his Auror robes and into a long black cloak with a hood.
He walked over to the bartender, who looked so familiar to Sirius. He had never met him, but he knew who he was, for he closely resembled his brother.
"Aberforth," said Sirius, reaching the bar. "Is the room ready?"
"All ready, kiddo," said Aberforth. "The boy is already there." Sirius nodded and climbed the stairs, glancing at the other patrons of the bar. He was not aware of any eyes following him, but he knew the pub's reputation. He knocked on the door, keeping his hood raised and his wand in his hand beneath the cloak.
He opened the door slowly and stepped in. He gasped in horror as he saw a Black Watch Auror sitting in the rocking chair by the fire. His wand was out in an instant, a spell already on his lips. The figure rocked backwards hard enough to upturn the chair. The curse sailed over the top of the fallen Auror and chair. As the Auror fell, his hood fell back in the process and Sirius sighed with relief as he recognised his godson.
"Christ, Sirius, it's me," said Harry.
"Sorry," said Sirius, pocketing his wand. His heart was still pounding and his limbs trembled with adrenaline as he tried to calm himself. He had also broken into a cold sweat, and was breathing deeply. "I thought you were…"
"The clothes, I know," said Harry with a smile, as he climbed to his feet and put the rocking chair back on its feet. "I convinced an Auror to part with them." Sirius didn't want to know what that meant.
"Harry, what's happening?" asked Sirius, taking a seat opposite Harry. His curiosity couldn't wait. He had gotten a cryptic message from James on the Frog Card telling him that it had gone tits up, to avoid Hogsmeade and to come to the Hog's Head in disguise at three p.m. Sirius had only heard him that agitated twice before; once was the night that Rose had disappeared, the other the night Harry had done the same. Harry leaned back in the chair, a look of pain and guilt crossing his face. Merlin, what had happened?
Harry leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. After a moment, he looked up and took a deep breath. For the next fifteen minutes, Harry laid out the situation in full. The more he spoke, the more helpless Sirius felt. With every word, his stomach knotted tighter and the shakes returned. The Order was scattered, divided and weak. For all intents and purposes, there was no Order. Merlin, how many had died today? Children as young as eleven, or even younger if they were villagers. What kind of monster could do that? He could see that his godson was immersed in guilt for what had happened. Sirius sat for nearly a minute in silence after Harry finished.
"We're alone in this," said Sirius after a long pause. "There's no one else. The Order was nearly one hundred strong, but most of those were informants. They are all in hiding now. We can't involve them."
"McGonagall said to keep communication to a minimum," said Harry. "She and Snape are being watched; it's the two of us against the whole Ministry."
"I never dreamed it would get this bad," said Sirius, massaging his temples and looking tired.
"I know," said Harry. "Those were friends of mine who died today. Rose, Mum and Dad are gone, and it's my fault. I led people into that."
"You did what you thought was right," said Sirius, brushing Harry's guilt aside.
"Last summer, in my world, I did what I thought was right, and you were murdered in front of me," said Harry. "Some of the worst things imaginable were done with the best intentions." Harry realised that he was placing his mistake alongside the creation of the atomic bomb. It seemed about as bad. What had he been thinking?
"So, what do we do now?" asked Sirius.
"That's the big question," said Harry.
"Forget the war for the time being," said Sirius. "We can't do anything if we are caught or dead, so let's start with self-preservation. We have to get out of here and to somewhere safe, a place to regroup."
"Right," said Harry, his brain beginning to work again. It was odd how his mind worked so much better in combat situations than at any other time. Another present from the Dark Knight, no doubt. "It's only a matter of time before the previous owner of this uniform is found. They may be Death Eaters under a legal name, but the Black Watch are also Aurors, so they will have protocols to follow. Am I right in thinking they will want statements and things from villagers?"
"Yes," said Sirius, nodding. "Standard procedure."
"Then we cannot stay here," said Harry. "If we wait, they'll come knocking to ask what we saw. So, let's grab some food quickly and relocate, though I don't know where to." He tried to think of places to go. In the old days, Hogwarts was a stronghold, where he could always go. Failing that, there was the Burrow or Grimmauld Place. Death Eaters now controlled the latter, but the first was a possibility.
"Godric's Hollow and my place will be watched," said Sirius, his brow furrowed in thought. "I wouldn't recommend the Burrow. We don't want to put Molly at risk. With Arthur having been arrested, we don't want to draw more attention to her. They will be watching all friends and family and will have wanted posters in all hotels and hostels by now as well as having Aurors with our pictures all over the streets. Unless we break and enter, we are almost out of choices, but that leaves us vulnerable if someone comes home and catches us."
Harry was racking his brains, trying to think. He didn't like the idea of breaking in somewhere, or holding a resident hostage in their own home. There was no telling how long this would last.
"Wait," said Sirius, clicking his fingers. His eyes were alight with an idea. That was fortunate, as Harry was coming up empty. "We could go Muggle," continued Sirius. "I've got enough cash. If I convert it to pounds we could get a room for the night. That gives us a little time to calm down and think of a better long-term plan. Crouch will need to contact Downing Street or the Met to get our photos into the Muggle world, so that buys us perhaps twenty-four hours; time to think."
"Good enough," said Harry. At least it was legal. It wasn't a permanent solution, but given time and a cup of tea, Harry was sure he could come up with a better solution. He smirked to himself. Only an Englishman could think about tea at a time like this. "We don't know when the next time we can eat will be, so I'll order something to ea…"
BANG! BANG!
He was interrupted by the sound of a fist pounding on the door. The whole frame shook under the force, and an authoritative voice shouted through the woodwork.
"OPEN UP!"
Harry stared at Sirius, his jaw dropping in surprise and fear. They had been found! They were trapped!
A second later, the door was blasted off its hinges. The doorway was full of smoke as the red sparks faded into nothingness. Harry coughed as the smoke filled his lungs and watched in horror as two figures in flowing black robes with veils covering their faces emerged from the smoke. The Black Watch had arrived. Harry had his veil down and his face was visible to all. It took only a fraction of a second for the leading Auror to recognise him. His eyes flashed with anger behind the veil.
"DON'T MOVE!" sneered the Auror, levelling his wand at Harry's head before he could move. Harry's hand was nowhere near his wand and if he moved, the Auror would kill him. He daren't try anything. He raised his hands slowly in a surrendering movement. "Watch him!"
The second Auror sidestepped the first to keep his wand on Sirius. "You're under arrest," announced the leader, moving his wand to Sirius. "You for treason," - he returned his wand to Harry - "and you for murder. Secure Black." The second Auror took a step forward, then paused. He turned to his commander.
"Ayden," said the second Auror, his voice emotionless, yet somewhat familiar.
"What?" hissed his partner, turning to face him. Without warning, the second Auror brought his black-gloved hand up sharply into the nose of his commander with a sickening crunch. Harry ducked away as blood splattered him from the Auror's broken nose. The attacker pushed his victim into a wall before grabbing a handful of his hair, pulling his head down and then thrusting it backwards, slamming his cranium into the wall and plunging him into unconsciousness.
Standing over his fallen colleague, the second Auror turned back to face Harry, who by this time had his wand aimed at the Auror's head. Sirius also had his wand drawn and ready.
"You can lower those, boys," said the Auror, raising a gloved hand to his face. He pulled his veil down and his hood back, revealing his face. Harry found himself staring into the eyes of Frank Longbottom. The son of a bitch had betrayed them! How could he?
"You're one of them, Frank?" hissed Sirius, taking the words right out of Harry's mouth. Both of them stared in loathing at Frank, their wands aimed at his throat.
"Yes," said Frank matter-of-factly, glaring at Harry. "I was approached by Crouch Junior. Did I want revenge on you, Potter, he says. Of course, says I. Join him, and I get you; that was the offer." So Frank had betrayed them all, just to get even with the Dark Knight. Didn't he understand that he and Harry were two different people? All this because he was too stupid to see that? Bastard!
"Son of a bitch," said Harry, shaking his head, the anger flowing through his veins. He didn't know who he hated the most, Frank or Crouch. At least Crouch was open about his beliefs.
"Hold your hippogriffs," said Frank impatiently, waving Harry aside with a flick of his hand. "Do you honestly think I would join Voldemort after what he did? Do you think I'm stupid?" What was he saying? Was he faking? Was this a lie?
"Are you saying you haven't?" asked Harry, looking Frank in the eye. It couldn't be. He was wearing Black Watch robes and hadn't been seen for several days. "Excuse me, but evidence to the contrary," said Harry condescendingly, pointing at Frank's uniform. The Auror shot Harry an annoyed glare before continuing.
"With Dumbledore out of the picture, I made a tactical decision," said Frank. "Crouch cornered me in the Ministry fifteen minutes before the purges started. I had no time to tell anyone. I was on my own and I did what I felt was best for the Order."
"Got half of us arrested?" offered Sirius, taking a step forward, a glare on his face. Harry was caught between the urge to hold Sirius back and to dive at Frank himself.
"I knew the Order was compromised," said Frank. "I knew that I would be arrested if I didn't. I could see what would happen. If I had resisted, then what? I would have joined the others under arrest and been no use to man or beast. Instead, I inserted myself as a spy. Sure, they far from trust me, but we have a pair of eyes and ears inside the Black Watch."
"You knew we were compromised and you never told us?" sneered Sirius. It was Harry's exact thought. Surely he had a Frog Card and could have told the others to run.
"I only found out fifteen minutes before it happened," said Frank. "For two days I didn't see a single person. They kept me isolated, training me so to speak, testing my loyalty and ability until they let me out. By then it was too late. It took another day to find the time to make contact with the Order. Since then I have been passing information to Snape."
"Off all the people," said Sirius, trying to keep his voice down, echoing Harry's thoughts. Snape hadn't passed on his information. Why not? Was Snape a spy for Voldemort? "The man is as dark as it gets," continued Sirius. "Why not anyone else?"
"I knew there was a leak," said Frank. " We both did, and I didn't know who to trust. Albus trusts him with his life and I will trust his instincts, even if it means working with Potter here. It was Snape who told me where you were tonight. Unfortunately, Ayden here came with me to check the pub." Frank glanced down at the fallen Auror. "He shouldn't have come. He's seen you, and knows too much." Frank glanced up at Harry. "We all know he must not leave this room alive, or I will be compromised," said Frank, his face and voice neutral. Before anyone could say a word, Frank bent down and grasped the fallen man's head with both hands.
Harry turned away as Frank twisted the Auror's neck sharply. He shivered at the sound of the sickening crunch as the man's neck broke like a twig. He hated people cracking their knuckles, so this was just plain vile. Frank seemed unfazed as he stood up. It seemed that Frank was indeed on their side, though the thought hardly thrilled Harry, or Frank himself for that matter.
"So what are we doing?" asked Frank, addressing Harry. "You can't stay here and they are looking high and low for you. Where are you going to stay?"
"Step one, we get rid of the body," said Sirius, lowering his wand. "Next we go to Gringott's; we need money. Then we find a hotel." Harry noted that Sirius left out the word Muggle from his reply. It seemed that he didn't trust Frank either. The Auror stared at Sirius for a second.
"Diagon Alley is crawling with the Black Watch," said Frank. "You'll need to be in disguise." Luckily, Sirius had a disguise: a fur-coat, in a manner of speaking.
"Got it covered," said Sirius. "We'll call you when we're settled."
"Fine," said Frank. "Be careful, and don't be seen. I'll take care of the body." Sirius nodded and stepped over the dead Auror and walked towards the door, gesturing for Harry to follow. Harry shot one final glance at Frank before following Sirius out of the door.
XXXXX
Ten minutes later, two figures walked into the reception of the Eagle Cross Hotel in Nottingham. Neither looked out of the ordinary, except for the fact that they wore sunglasses in the middle of December. The younger one turned to the side, waiting just inside the door, gazing through the window at passers by in the street. Harry watched carefully for any sign of movement, any sign they had been followed. Frank had returned to the Ministry to report on Ayden's death and to maintain his cover. After a quick trip to Gringott's, Sirius and Harry had come to a relatively small hotel in the south of Nottingham, a city that neither of them had ties to, and had no Ministry presence. At the same time, it was large enough that strangers would not be noticed and they could disappear in a crowd.
Satisfied that they were not being followed, Harry joined Sirius in the queue to check in. In front of them were a family of four. Two children, looking thoroughly bored, probably at the end of a long journey, held their parents' hands as they waited for the elderly lady in front of them to be served by a young receptionist, who wore so much makeup that her false smile was permanently glued into place.
"This place smells," announced the son of the family in front. He was about thirteen, with platinum blond hair swept across his head in a side parting. He wore smart beige trousers, brown leather shoes, a cream shirt and a dark green sleeveless v-neck woolly jumper. Aside from the clothes, he reminded Harry of a certain Slytherin. Harry tried to hide his smile, but found it hard. "I don't like it here."
"It's only for one night, son," said his father. Harry glanced at Sirius, who rolled his eyes.
The boy had his nose in the air, his arms folded across his chest and a scowl etched into his face. He looked like a golfer. His father wore a neatly pressed suit and his wife a beautiful cream suit with an expensive pearl necklace. The daughter was dressed in a summery frock that made her look a little stupid in Harry's opinion, but he was no fashion expert.
"Why can't we stay at the Hilton?" the boy demanded. "This place isn't fit for dogs."
What a stuck up twat, thought Harry, shaking his head. A Muggle Malfoy.
"There, there, darling," said his mother, stroking his hair. "Tomorrow we catch the plane and then it's three weeks of sun in Aunty Sue's mansion in Australia. It's only one night, sweetie." She was large, with no neck and several chins. Her busy hair and huge waistline reminded Harry of another woman.
Suddenly a thought occurred to Harry, a wicked thought, but one that had potential. He leaned in to whisper to Sirius.
"If the Minister are clever, they will know we have gone Muggle," said Harry. "Remember, true Aurors will view us as enemies, and they will do their duty and help Crouch find us. Some of them are clever. Now, we need to go somewhere they won't suspect or think to look, somewhere out of the way. I think we need to go back to where this whole nightmare started."
"Where do you mean?" asked Sirius. Harry winked, before turning on his heel and walking away, gesturing for Sirius to follow.
Harry set off into the toilets in the lobby. He entered the lavishly decorated toilets and was relieved to find it empty. Crouching down, he peered into the cubicles, all of which were empty. "We need somewhere off the map," said Harry, satisfied they were alone. "Somewhere we know, so we can escape if we are found, and somewhere where no one will come looking, and like I said, I think we should go back to where this nightmare began." He held out a hand to Sirius; it was better to travel his way, as it couldn't be detected like Apparation. "Hold on."
Sirius hesitated for a second before taking hold of his arm, while Harry tried to picture the destination clearly from his memories of his home world. With a whoosh, they disappeared in a ball of flame, inadvertently setting off the smoke detector and evacuating the entire hotel.
Harry landed on rough gravel that crunched beneath his weight. He was relieved not to have twisted his ankle on the uneven trail. Sirius had his wand out and ready, and was taking in the surroundings. The gate had been the best picture Harry could remember of the entire place, so that was where they had ended up.
They stood in the middle of an uneven lane, bordered by high hedges thick with brambles. There was a light breeze blowing up the muddy lane, bringing the smell of the countryside and cool Devon air with it. In front of them at the top of the hill was a large wooden gate, held shut by a spring and sealed with a large bolt. Attached to the centre of the gate was a large ornate sign.
Higher Croft Farm
He was back, and this time the reception would be colder, as was his intent. Harry hopped the gate, followed by Sirius.
"Where are we?" asked Sirius, following him across the courtyard towards the large wooden door, which was surrounded by flowerbeds. The table and chairs on the porch that would have seemed almost inviting at the end of last summer, were it not for the owner, now were tucked away neatly, gathering frost in the bitter winter's weather. The hanging baskets and flowerbeds were almost barren, except for brown stalks sticking up through the frosted soil. The sun was low on the horizon; it would be dark soon, and it was only four o'clock. Dark and difficult times lay ahead, literally.
"This is where I came to this world," said Harry. Harry reached the front door, careful not to trip over the hosepipe that lay dripping on the porch. Harry noted that he could not hear the dogs, which worried him slightly. He knocked sharply on the door and waited. There was no note this time. After a few seconds he tried again. He glanced at Sirius, who was staring out over the countryside, taking in the picturesque sunset.
They were five minutes' drive from the town of Mary Tavy and ten to Tavistock, but even then it was a full minute up a thin winding road that only led to the farm. Unless you were coming here, there was no reason to take it. No one would bother them. After another twenty seconds had passed and there had still been no reply. Maybe it was better this way. Harry drew his wand.
"Alohomora!" The door clicked open and Harry stepped into the familiar farmhouse, the smell of farmhouse cooking combined with dogs invading his nostrils as he reached for the light-switch. "Come in, Sirius," said Harry. "She's out."
"Who?"
"The foulest woman on earth," said Harry, bitterly. Sirius slipped into the house and closed the door behind him with once final glance down the road. "Right, we need to make it secure."
"I can have basic Apparation and Portkey wards up in ten minutes, but anti-Muggle are more of a problem," said Sirius. "You see, if the owner isn't here, he or she will be coming back. Anti-Muggle wards aren't strong enough to keep them away. The homing sense is too strong, just like you can't hypnotise someone to death because of the survival instinct."
"So we need to wait for the lady of the house to come…"
"HARRY, LOOK OUT!" Sirius' eyes were wide as he rushed forward.
Harry spun in the direction of Sirius' eyes. He came face to face with the exact woman he had been referring to. To his horror, he also came face to face with the barrel of a shotgun, aimed at his chest.
BANG!
It seemed to happen in slow motion: the flash, the deafening bang, the impact in his chest and his feet leaving the floor before the impact on his back. He hadn't even realised what had happened until he found himself staring up at Aunt Marge as she pumped the shotgun for a second shot.
"STUPEFY!"
The huge woman was forced backwards by the spell and launched into the wall, the gun coming loose from her grip in the process. She landed in a heap at the base of the wall, unconscious. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
"Harry! Are you aright?" asked Sirius, lying at his side.
"Near enough," said Harry, sitting up. "It hit my armour. Hurt like hell though." His ribs complained as Sirius helped him to his feet. The shot had hit just below his heart. Aunt Marge had not been aiming to wound him: bitch!
"Good thing it was point blank," said Sirius.
"Good?"
"Otherwise the buckshot would have dispersed and you've have lost most of your shoulder," said Sirius. "So what do we do with her?"
"Keep her sedated," said Harry. "Obliviate her when we leave. No one will miss her; she isn't exactly a contributing member of society."
"Fair enough," said Sirius. "I'll see to the wards."
Harry made his way into the kitchen and put the kettle on. It took twenty minutes for Sirius to get the wards up. He kept them to just the building, fearing that anything bigger might be noticed by passing wizards.
"Let's get some sleep," said Harry as Sirius came in, having finished the wards. "Tomorrow, we need to sort out what the hell we do now."
XXXXX
HARRY POTTER STAGES ATTACK ON AURORS
In October, when the world first learned that Harry Potter had suffered amnesia, many still felt that he was untrustworthy. When he was pardoned, many felt it was a travesty of justice. Whether he really did lose his memory, or it was all an elaborate hoax, Harry Potter has turned back to his dark ways. In a secret campaign to undermine the Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Augustus Rookwood, Harry Potter has been training a student army under the disguise of a Duelling Club.
Yesterday, the members of this club coerced a majority of the student body to follow their leader down to Hogsmeade village, boycotting lessons in favour of civil unrest activities. The people of Hogsmeade cowered in their homes as the riotous students approached. One student in the sixth year has spent in the night in Auror custody to sober up before being returned to Hogwarts.
The unrest could perhaps be forgiven, but when Ministry Aurors arrived to direct students back to Hogwarts and restore peace to the village, Potter's duelling club opened fire on the Aurors. Two Aurors were killed and five more injured in the following firefight.
"Potter was not alone," said one Auror, who cannot be named for legal reasons. "He fired first, demolishing half a building on top of my team-mates; three of them are dead now. The other students starting throwing hexes at us, and there were others - adults, ex-Aurors. Even the children were using the Dark Arts. I've never seen things as sick as what Potter's friends were throwing at us. People were dropping everywhere. It was a simple crowd control assignment, and Potter turned it into a massacre."
Seven students died in the conflict and a further two remain in critical condition. Two buildings have been burned to the ground, while others are scarcely standing. The cost of rebuilding is expected to reach into the millions. Arrest warrants have been issued for him Potter and his accomplices. It would appear that Potter is now in charge of Albus Dumbledore's terror network, the Order of the Phoenix. As long as Potter is at large, we can expect further attacks.
"This is all bollocks," whispered Ron to Ginny, at breakfast the next day. Almost everyone was crowded around copies of the Prophet, trying to read. Ginny glanced up from her cereal as he spoke. "We were there; it didn't happen like that." Those who had been on the march were now back in school. Eleven were still in St Mungo's and seven students had been confirmed dead, as well as eleven villagers and several Aurors. Rookwood had allowed the protesters to return to classes, the grip of fear created by the Black Watch enough to keep them in line. Ginny was perfectly well aware that she was being watched around the clock. Rookwood was waiting for something before he had them arrested; Ginny just didn't know what.
"Shhh!" hissed Ginny. "If Rookwood hears us, we'll end up in detention." No one spoke loudly anymore. Any conversations in the corridors were conducted in whispers, if at all. The Inquisitorial Squad had free reign, and Malfoy used it to his advantage, using intimidation to get what he wanted. There were those who did what he wanted out of fear, even in Gryffindor. That meant that all conversations had to be very guarded indeed.
"But we can't do nothing," protested Ron.
"What can we do?" asked Ginny, frustrated that he didn't see the hopelessness of it all. "Harry's gone, Rose and Hermione too. It's you, Luna, and me and that's all. The duelling club has been abolished, or didn't you read the notice board last night? We can't even talk without fear of being overheard."
"We need to see McGonagall," said Ron, folding the paper away. "She'll know what to do."
"Perhaps," said Ginny, not as confident as her brother. Her thoughts were going beyond him to something Harry had said when they first met. It had potential, and if there was ever a need for it, it was now. "Ron, we know we are not an army, and the article was a lie, but it is a good idea, isn't it?"
"What? You want to form one?" asked Ron, picking up her meaning. Ginny nodded.
"Why not?"
"No one is going to join after this," Ron hissed. He glanced around the room. "Look at them. They're all scared. We all know someone who died. They just want to keep their heads down and be safe."
"On the other hand, it might have strengthened resolve," said Ginny. "They know that the Ministry and the Prophet are corrupt and liars now. If we could get a handful of us together…do you remember what Harry said about his world, about the DA? They fought against Umbridge; we fought against Umbridge. In his world, we fought and won. We can do it again."
"Sounds dangerous," said Ron. "If we are caught this time, it won't be detention, it will be arrest."
"No more dangerous than staying here waiting for Voldemort to take over," said Ginny. Ron grimaced at the word.
"Don't say his name," he hissed.
"Grow up, Ron," said Ginny, not bothering to hide her frustration. "We have to do something." It was just a matter of finding out what they could actually do. Rookwood's spies were everywhere, the castle was run like a prison and there was so little time to be alone with anyone. It would be noticed if ten or twenty students met on a regular basis. Having a DA was all well and good, but unless they could regularly meet to practice, it was all for nothing.
This was going to be a bitch to organise, especially with schoolwork now taking over. Five minutes ago, the school had been informed that Professor Snape had replaced Professor Potter teaching Potions. This of course left the post of Defence teacher available. Ginny had had a feeling that Rookwood would scrap it altogether, but instead, he had inserted one of his Aurors into the post. By controlling both Defence and the Dark Arts themselves, Rookwood would train a bunch of school kids into a gang of killers. This whole situation was spiralling out of control; they were nearing the point of no return.
"I'll ask my year if they want to join," said Ron. "You do yours. We can try Ernie, Luna, maybe Terry. I don't know about seventh years; Katie Bell might, I know her well from Quidditch." He appeared thoughtful as he stuffed his mouth with scrambled eggs.
"Gannet," muttered Ginny, sipping her tea. Her mind was going over whom she would ask to attend. Who did she know who was reliable? With the Muggleborns gone and the Order under arrest, not to mention Rose's disappearance, they would be very short on numbers.
"Keep it quiet, Ron," said Ginny, rising to leave. "This is no game. Tonight at nine in the Room of Requirement." With that she began to walk away, planning how she could speak to her recruits. She was conscious as she left of a great many eyes watching her every movement. She had to be careful. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of being caught.
At nine o'clock that evening, Ginny and Ron entered the Room of Requirement to find several armchairs in a circle waiting for them with a kettle over the fire and a cup ready. It was a good thing that Harry had made them aware of this room. Ginny noted that it was so convenient, on a great many levels, as Ron began to help himself to a plate of biscuits he had found. Ginny remembered how Harry had made it into a tropical beach. That had been nice, but it was not serious enough for the occasion. This was a secret meeting of the utmost importance, and it was imperative that everyone understood the full gravity of the situation they were in. As they had seen the day before, this was a deadly game of cat and mouse, and they were definitely the mice.
Seamus Finnigan, looking glum now that Dean had gone, and Katie Bell, looking nervous as the two of them arrived together. Katie looked pale as a sheet as she sunk into an armchair without a word. Ginny poured the poor girl a cup of tea to calm her nerves. It reminded Ginny exactly how much they were asking them to risk. The door opened again and Ernie Macmillan entered, looking sad ' his best friend had died in the conflict. Luna Lovegood and Terry Boot also came into the room, Terry checking the corridor outside for anyone following them before closing the door softly and joining the others by the fire. Over the next five minutes, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot also arrived. It was half of what Ginny had hoped for, but it would have to do; yet nine was not enough to challenge the Inquisitorial Squad.
"Okay," said Ginny, getting the meeting started. "Help yourself to tea and biscuits, but as time is short, I'll get started. We were all there yesterday, and we all read the Prophet this morning. We know it's all a load of bollocks. Harry Potter did not train us to be an army, the Order of the Phoenix is not a terrorist network and Dumbledore did not murder Crouch."
"The Order of the Phoenix exists?" asked Ernie, staring at her intently, his eyes eager. Ginny hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should tell him. It was probably for the best. They had risked a lot to be here and so treating them like children was not a good idea, especially as she needed their help.
"Yes," said Ginny, her voice level. She paused for a second to let the fact sink in. "It was a group of freedom fighters designed to fight Voldemort's Death Eaters." Again she paused to let the effect of the name wear off. "The trouble is that now a Death Eater is Minister of Magic and another is High Inquisitor, so it's them that write the Prophet. They say that the Order are terrorists, but it's all a lie. We know Dumbledore; he is not a murderer. We also know Harry Potter; he is many things, but he tried to protect us out there yesterday, and we all saw it. He tried to keep us safe, but Crouch gave the order to fire. We are here today because we can't just sit here and accept this. Rookwood must never find out about this group. What I am proposing is dangerous, but unless we wish to submit to Voldemort's rule, I don't see another choice."
"What exactly are you asking of us?" asked Seamus.
"The Duelling Club was never meant to be an army," said Ginny simply. "This one is."
"You're kidding," said Terry, spraying crumbs all over the chair. His eyes were wide in shock. "You can't expect us to be an army, to fight, to challenge Rookwood. Sure, I'd love to have a go at Malfoy, but there are Aurors in the school around the clock, trained killers. Ginny, I agree with what you're saying, but you don't expect us to fight off Aurors, do you? It can't be done."
"No," said Ginny. "I don't expect you to challenge the Aurors head on, or even the Inquisitorial Squad. I propose we train to fight. We look up new curses by day, and train by night. I have a way to contact Harry that doesn't involve owls, so Rookwood can't trace it. Harry is hiding with Sirius Black, an Order member and a true Auror, not one of these Black Watch thugs. Black Watch is just another name for Death Eater. I am proposing that we be ready for any form of action they decide on, because two men standing alone are no match for the Ministry. They need all the help they can get, and you're right, Terry, we are not trained Aurors, but we can do out parts. We are not helpless and they need us. Now, I know this is a risk. We may get expelled, but I say that it's better to be at risk out there and trained, than safe in here and unable to defend ourselves."
"But you're not just talking about detention," interrupted Ernie, leaning forward in his chair. "You said it yourself. Crouch is a monster and we'll be arrested, not expelled, if we are caught. We are talking about Azkaban if something goes wrong." Ginny wished he hadn't said it out loud. She had been thinking the same thing, but to say it aloud would scare the others. They needed everyone they could get.
"True," said Ginny, slowly. "I know what I propose is dangerous, and that there are consequences to failing, but I will not give in to Voldemort's rule. If we do nothing, what then? Once in complete control, he will hunt us down; The Malfoys and the Weasleys have hated each other for generations. Lucius Malfoy will have free reign to kill my family when Voldemort takes over, and I know he will do it. I won't sit around and wait for it. If we fail, it will be no worse than if we do nothing."
"I don't know, Ginny," said Ernie. "My friend was killed yesterday because he wanted to do his part."
"And his death will be in vain if Voldemort takes over," said Ginny, hoping Ernie didn't take offence. "This is your chance to make his death mean something." Ernie sat back in his chair, staring into the fire. The room was silent, save for seven for the crackling of the fire.
"Envy the country that has heroes," muttered Ernie. "Pity the country that needs them."
"Real heroes are not super strong or fast or clever," said Luna, dreamily. "They just do what is right, when all others turn and run." It was probably the most profound thing the girl had ever had said; even Seamus who openly didn't take her seriously bowed his head and nodded at the remark.
"I'm in," said Seamus, raising his head. "One way or another, it's going to end soon. Let's show the bastards where to shove it." There was a sad smile on his face as he said it.
"Me too," said Ron.
"And me," said Luna dreamily. Ginny wasn't sure that she had heard a word of what was said, or knew what she was doing, but Ginny appreciated her help. Even the smallest person had the power to change the future.
"What about the rest of you?" asked Ginny, addressing the silent ones. She looked at each of them in turn, staring into their eyes. One by one, their heads shrank into a nod. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief at the unanimous vote.
"Thank you," said Ginny. "Starting tomorrow, we need to start research; we need new spells and curses. We'll meet here tomorrow at the same time to begin practicing. I know this seems rushed, but we have very little time. I hope you understand."
The others nodded.
"We should leave now," said Ginny. "One more thing - we must not be seen together outside meetings. The risk is too great with the Inquisitorial Squad sneaking around."
"So how do we communicate?" asked Hannah.
"I'll figure something out," said Ginny. "Good night."
When Ginny got back to Gryffindor Tower that night, a note was pinned to the Notice Board.
EDUCATIONAL DECREE 22
By order of the High Inquisitor, all clubs and societies without
express permission from the High Inquisitor are banned.
Prof A. Rookwood.
Up in her room, Ginny cast a silencing charm around the bed and pulled out the Frog-Card. She knew that the notice meant that Rookwood knew something was wrong. Maybe he just didn't want people to group together, but Ginny had a feeling he knew a little more than that. They had to be very careful with this and they needed help from the outside.
"Harry Potter," she whispered into the card.
After a few seconds, a very sleepy looking Harry Potter filled the card.
"Yeah," he yawned. Ginny felt a tad guilty for waking him, but it was necessary. This couldn't wait.
"Harry, it's Ginny," she whispered.
"What's happened?" he asked, suddenly wide-awake.
"Me and Ron put together a small team for a new DA," said Ginny, feeling oddly proud of herself. "We are going to learn new curses, so when the time comes we can help." She had been expecting him to grin broadly, congratulate her, or something to that effect, but her sentence was met with stony silence. Harry stared at her from the card, his expression unreadable. He paused for a second before sighing deeply.
"Ginny" said Harry. "This puts you all in danger, and you'll get more than a slapped wrist if this goes pear-shaped. Hang on, I'll wake Sirius." His face disappeared from the card, leaving it black. Ginny was somewhat taken aback by the response. She had expected him to be proud, grateful, even in awe, but not hostile to the idea. This affected them as much as it did him. It was their right to help, and Harry couldn't do this alone. Ginny waited for nearly a minute before the card began to vibrate again. She raised it to her face. Harry stared out at her once more.
"Okay, Ginny, you're on with myself and Sirius," said Harry. "You said you have set up a new DA, right? How many are there and who's in it?" His tone was glum and his face calculating.
"Not many," confessed Ginny. "Nine of us. I can recruit more if we need it," she added as an after thought.
"No," said Harry, urgently. "You'll draw attention to yourself and that is what you need to avoid; you can't even be seen together, though if you and Ron avoid each other it will look odd. Just act natural."
"We won't speak of it in public," said Ginny. "But we already have attention; I think Rookwood knows." Harry look puzzled for a minute, then his eyes widened in understanding.
"Educational Decrees?" he asked. Ginny guessed that he must have suffered the same thing under Umbridge. She nodded, before elaborating.
"All clubs and teams are banned…"
"…without permission from the High Inquisitor," finished Harry. "The Quidditch teams will need to go to get permission; it will look suspicious if you just accept this. Gryffindors need to be seen to argue a bit to keep up appearances, but don't land yourself in detention. They will be vicious. In the mean meantime, stay away from each other. They will be looking for groups who might be hiding something. This whole thing is designed to shake you up, catch you out; don't let it. Be calm and patient."
"There's another problem," said Ginny. "We have no way to communicate, and this is the only card."
"I'll have Hermione make a batch of coins that will allow you to communicate," said Harry. "They'll be sent tomorrow." Ginny breathed a sigh of relief; Harry had solved her problem for her, although there were still plenty more to solve. But what of Harry? What had happened to him? Where was Rose? What had gone wrong?
"What's going on, Harry?" asked Ginny. "Where are you?"
"We're safe," said Harry cautiously. "I won't say where, but we are safe. We have a plan, too." The words were music to Ginny's ears.
"What can we do to help?" asked Ginny, eager to serve.
"At the moment, nothing," said Harry, again cautiously. "For now, stay out of sight and train yourselves. Don't take risks. If our plan works, we may need your army, but don't let them know that yet."
"Okay, Harry," said Ginny, half glad that they would be needed, and half terrified that there were. "One more thing."
"What?"
"Where is Rose?" asked Ginny. Harry's face twitched at the name, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He was hiding something. "Harry, I need to know."
He sighed deeply.
"She's not…" began Ginny, horrified. Harry stared out of the card at her, his emotions hidden.
"She's not dead," said Harry. "She was captured with my parents yesterday, but they are alive."
"Are you sure?"
"Voldemort will use her to lure me," said Harry. "She's more valuable alive."
"But…."
"Get some sleep, Ginny," said Harry. "You'll need your strength. Good night."
"Good night."
XXXXX
"Not entirely honest, Harry," said Sirius as Harry pocketed his card, the image of Rose being dragged away still imprinted in his mind. Harry was sprawled out on one of three leather sofas around the fire in Higher Croft Farmhouse. He wore what he had been wearing the day of the protest, except for the t-shirt, which now lay somewhere on the floor of the bedroom Harry had picked to get changed in. He had thrown it across the room in a fit of stress and wherever it had landed was where it now lay, while his borrowed Black Watch robes were draped more or less tidily over the back of the chair next to the desk in the same room. He had been lying awake brooding for the last hour, having had four hours of sleep, with nothing but a glass of water to keep him company.
"Eh?"
"You made it sound like we have a plan," noted Sirius. "If you do, please share it, because I'm coming up short." He grinned, and Harry knew that he knew Harry had said that comfort Ginny. He didn't have a plan, or anything resembling it.
"I don't," confessed Harry, "but she doesn't need to know that."
"Smart move," said Sirius, sinking onto another sofa.
"How's it going?" asked Harry, sitting up for the first time in ages, his clothes stuck to his back with sweat from having been curled up for so long.
"Finished," said Sirius. "The alarm system is completely frozen, Muggle repelling charms line the boundaries of the property, and I've put down anti-Apparation and Portkey wards. Nothing can get through without us knowing about it, but it won't stop this place being found by wizards." It was good, but far from perfect. Harry didn't like the idea of a wizard walking by and wondering what the wards were for and wandering in. Wasn't there anything else they could do?
"Can't we put it under the Fidelius Charm?"
"Do you know how?" asked Sirius, raising an eyebrow in mock seriousness. "It's an immensely complicated charm. I know of three people alive - at least I hope they are still alive - who are able to do it, and unfortunately, none of them are in any position to help us. I've done the best I can."
"Okay, good," said Harry, brushing his hair back with his hands and gently massaging the back of his neck. "Now what?" They had slept a little and eaten, but still had come up with no plan of action, or even a vague idea.
"That's the big question, isn't it," muttered Sirius, sipping Harry's drink. "If you can think of a way to get us out of this mess, you're smarter than I am, because from my point of view, we're well and truly up the creek without a paddle. In fact, we're so far up, we've gone beyond the creek, beyond the spring and at present are right at the top of the mountain."
Harry looked blankly at Sirius, unable to understand the analogy. Sirius read his expression and smirked to himself.
"As in &lsquowe're buggered&rsquo," translated Sirius. "We were caught with our knickers down and he jumped in and…"
"Thanks, I get the picture," Harry cut him off, not wanting the mental image.
He had to hand it to Voldemort; it was a brilliantly conceived plan. First he made every effort to find and eliminate the one thing he feared - the Door in the Department of Mysteries. He failed and in so doing, he lost his best man, but it didn't matter; he had a contingency plan. Did he not trust Harry Potter in the first place, then, to have plans like his ready to go, or was he simply adapting? Lord knows it must have been a quick re-adjustment. He lost his lieutenant, but then with no more than a few days' notice, put Harry in the middle of a distraction that broke his supporters out of Azkaban.
But that had not been the end of it. Even though Harry hadn't known it at the time, he was doing exactly as Voldemort had wanted, and burrowed his way deeper and deeper into the Order of the Phoenix, putting himself into a perfect position to acquire the Pensieve. Voldemort then turned himself in, getting past any security, and into the hands of loyal supporters on the inside of the Ministry. His request to see Harry then got him everything he needed to bring down the Order. It was perfectly planned, perfectly executed and as it turned out, unstoppable.
One thing still bothered Harry. If Voldemort had the Pensieve, then why was Snape still at large? Surely he would have seen in the Pensieve that Snape was in the Order, having turned spy. Why was he letting Snape go? Unless Snape was truly on his side…if he knew Snape was a loyal Death Eater, posing as a traitor to get close to Dumbledore, then he would expect to see him in the Pensieve. It seemed that Dumbledore and Voldemort both truly believed Snape was loyal to them, and them alone. God, Harry wished he knew once and for all if he could trust the bastard.
Of course, that wasn't the only thing bothering Harry; the events of the last few days played over and over in his mind. They had all been hoodwinked, taken in by a lie, and now they were backed into a corner. Was the protest a good idea? Was it worth all they had lost?
"Was I right?" he asked himself absently, not realising he had said it aloud.
"About what?" asked Sirius, catching Harry off guard. Embarrassed that he had been speaking to himself, Harry rested his head against the arm of the sofa, his arm draped across his eyes, blocking out the light.
"Everything," said Harry, despair apparent in his voice. Looking back, from the time he arrived here it had been one cock up after another. Every time he thought he was doing the right thing, the situation turned on him, usually with many casualties. It had been hard when the bomb had killed Muggles in the tube but these were his friends who had now suffered, perhaps died. He had not had time to check up on Hogwarts. How many had died, nearly died or been injured because of his miscalculation?
"I put them in that situation," said Harry, speaking more to himself than Sirius. "I've always tried to keep my friends out of danger, away from the front line, even before I came here. What made me change me mind? What the hell was I thinking putting children in the line of fire?"
"There was no way you could have known Crouch would open fire," said Sirius.
"Yes, there was," said Harry, sitting up. "I knew what a monster he was and what he was capable of."
"He will have trouble justifying it," said Sirius. "There will be ripples in public circles."
"He's beyond that now," said Harry. "Total control of government and press. No one now has the strength to oppose him. I knew this before I set foot on the march. I was holding on to a fool's hope that it would turn out okay. Pretty stupid, hey?" The guilt was swelling in him. His sleep had been haunted by the burning, the screams and the panic of the massacre. Why had he not seen it coming? He wished he could go back in time and stop himself from doing it, but he couldn't. Nothing he did could bring those people back, people who had believed in him. He had let them down.
"You did what you thought was right," said Sirius. "No one can fault you for that."
"Snape could," Harry pointed out. "He always says that I never think, and this time it was true. What am I talking about, I never think! Everything I've done since I got here has been a mistake and only made things worse. I gave him what he wanted. I practically handed him the country."
"No," said Sirius. "You have done good, Harry. Look at the Gryffindors now. Okay, so there are some little bastards who have joined him from terror, but look at the Weasleys. You have given hope back to them."
"And then swept it out from under them with that stupid march," said Harry. "Even I was holding onto a fool's hope. I'd seen what he was capable of. He murdered his own father. How could I have ever believed that he wouldn't fire on children?"
"Because you believe in the goodness of human nature," said Sirius. "And that's what makes you better than Riddle and your other self."
"I know, I know, my ability to love and feel is my strength," said Harry, hotly. "Dumbledore already gave me that speech - my Dumbledore, that is. Fat lot of good feelings will do me now. We walked right into his trap, with myself as a catalyst. Every time we thought we were making things better, they got worse."
"It was no one's fault but Riddle's," said Sirius.
"How the hell did we end up like this!" said Harry. "Why weren't we able to see the signs that we missed? I can't believe that things have gotten so bad that there's no way back. He controls everything now; we're the terrorists, and all the hundreds of people out there aren't even questioning this. What can we do? Any attack makes us look more guilty, not that we have enough power to attack."
"You said it yourself," said Sirius. "The people follow Crouch blindly and while they do, he controls the country. At that march you were more than a person, you were a symbol, an idea."
"But he's plastered the papers, showing me as a symbol of evil," said Harry.
"There's a saying in the USSR," said Sirius. "Pravda ne novosti, a novosti ne pravda. The Truth is not the news and the news is not the truth. The State newspaper is called Pravda, The Truth, which is not the news; i.e. what's happening, and is the news, what we see, is not the truth."
"Okay," said Harry, not understanding the reference. This was no time for riddles. "So how does that help us?"
"Give people an alternative," said Sirius. "The educated Russians know that Pravda is a load of rubbish, but for lack of an alternative, the masses believe it. I know Crouch will shut down any paper that opposes him, but even one article can raise a little doubt. Doubt is enough, because it proves Crouch fallible and from there, opinion can change."
"I know," said Harry. "Yet doubt is meaningless when he uses his methods. Fear and awe are a powerful combination. Last year I had to give an interview to put the message out there that Voldemort had returned. But this still is not enough. He's in control, and it's only a matter of time before he declares war on the Muggles. Thousands will die."
"At the very least," said Sirius.
"More than thousands?" asked Harry.
"Remember the politics of this world," said Sirius. "Moscow will notice if London suddenly falls, and march westward. East Germany is crawling with tanks in response to terrorist attacks by Pureblood fanatics in Germany and Austria. I don't think they're anything to do with Voldemort, because you said Rookwood wanted the islands of Britain taken off the map, i.e. be isolationist. But never the less, the Muggles think that they're under attack from the underground or the West. Baader-Meinhof a Marxist terror network, have declared war on West Germany. If Britain falls, the Kremlin could decide to march westward, taking back all of Germany. France's reputation for war being what is, about two weeks between two world wars, means that Moscow could control the whole of Europe and Asia, dividing the world into two giant land-masses."
"What are you talking about?" asked Harry; his history was sketchy, but he knew a little. "The Cold War never got this bad. Even in Cuba. That's why it's called the Cold War; there was no fighting. It ended in 1990 because the USSR collapsed financially, politically and economically, not because of violence." How could Russia justify that kind of conquest? The Yanks would nuke the world to hell in retaliation.
"It's amazing," said Sirius, shaking his head. "You've actually seen peace, proper peace. No Cold War, no Voldemort, but ten years of peace and content."
"I wouldn't call it that," said Harry, thinking back to living with the Dursleys, and also somehow managing to nearly get killed every school year despite Voldemort being as good as gone. Still, by these standards, it was bliss. On reflection, his world, despite its imperfections, was much better than here.
"But you've known peace," interrupted Sirius. "You have walked down a street without having to look over your shoulder. You've left the house knowing for sure that you will return. It sounds so simple, but none of us have done so in years. We live in constant fear, Harry. The fact that you have seen a time without Voldemort gives me hope. It is possible to beat him; he is not invulnerable."
Harry didn't have the heart to tell Sirius that Voldemort wasn't really gone, so he left it, merely nodding.
"But going back to the Cold War," said Sirius. "In recent years it has escalated. There are tanks and armies from both sides in Germany. Having two armies in such close proximity is dangerous. Something as influential as London falling could tip the scales. There is more at stake here than we know. A British civil war could plunge the entire world into a nuclear holocaust, all because of one wizard."
Great, so there was even more at stake, and they were just as helpless as they were a few minutes ago. This day just got better and better, Harry thought bitterly.
"But what can we do?" asked Harry. "We have no army, no weapons, no information. We are cut off. Frank is all we have and he's being watched. Even with Ginny and the DA, we don't have enough to make a difference."
"Voldemort," said Sirius, his tone deadly serious. "It starts and ends with him." No, it was impossible. He was too well guarded and too powerful.
"That doesn't help us," said Harry, shaking his head. "There's no way of getting in; the Black Watch are everywhere. We need more men and time to plan an assault. If we knew where Dumbledore and the others were, we might have a chance, but we don't. The two of us have no chance of getting past his security and even if we did, he may be too strong for either of us."
"What about Muggles?" suggested Sirius. "This affects them too. It may be time to bridge the gap between our societies. Working together, we might be able to stop him." It had potential, but there were so many more problems, security not being the least of them.
"Mr Prime Minister," said Harry sarcastically. "My people are trying to kill you all because they think you're sub-human. I am one of these people but I want you to trust me over the Minister of Magic and give me your troops to try and stop this war. Yes, that's really going to be believable. And let's not forget that in order to get to the Prime Minister, we need to breach security in the most secure house in the country with the exception of Buckingham Palace."
"Do you have a better idea?" asked Sirius, putting Harry in his place. Harry blushed under the retort, his mouth hanging open. Okay, he didn't have a better idea, but it didn't make Sirius' a good one. It seemed whichever way they turned, they were in deep trouble.
"No," confessed Harry.
"It's the only thing I can think of," said Sirius.
There was a pause. Harry tried to think of a better plan. Voldemort had changed his entire plan in a few hours, to include Harry's arrival. There was no way that was planned as it was so unlikely to happen, so his plan was spontaneous, yet Harry had spent hours thinking it over and come up with nothing. Voldemort was a natural leader; Harry, it seemed, was not, or at least, certainly not a tactician.
"Have you ever thought about what you'd do if we win?" asked Sirius, taking Harry by surprise. It was a good point. He had not given any thought to what he would do if they were successful. What would life without Voldemort be like? He had been part of Harry's life for so long that he couldn't imagine life without him. It was not a happy thought. Images of Dumbledore telling him he was obsolete, and his purpose was complete filled his mind. He imagined himself cast aside by society, wandering the streets alone.
"Not really," replied Harry, forcing the image out of his mind.
"Me neither," said Sirius. "The war's been on for so many years, I've come to accept it as normal. I can't imagine a world without it ' you're the only one who has seen one. We can't change what we are. What is a soldier to do when there is no one left to fight?"
"Welcome to my world," muttered Harry bitterly.
"What's your world like?" asked Sirius, putting his feet up on Aunt Marge's sofa.
"So similar, yet so different," said Harry following suit, smirking at the thought of what his version of Aunt Marge would say if she walked in right now. "When I look around here, I see familiar faces worn by strangers. Ron and Hermione I have known for years, but these are not the people I know. People I know there are different here, or missing, like Neville Longbottom for instance. But you're right, I have lived in a time of peace, but it's no better. Peace does not mean utopia. There is still crime, people trying to get one over. The need for Aurors is just as strong. We got complacent, though. We became so weak that when he returned, he was unopposed. Politicians refused to acknowledge it, preferring to label me insane and continue life as normal. It wasn't for another year until they acknowledged his return, until the night I found out about the Prophecy, and a night that cost you your life ' seeing Voldemort with his own eyes was enough for Fudge. A year was wasted, and now my friends back home are paying for it with blood, I know they are."
"I thought you said you hardly knew me," said Sirius, his tone softer as he eyed Harry. Harry put his head in his hands. He had to tell Sirius everything. He had a right to know and Harry needed to say that he was sorry. He had gotten him killed. How many people got a chance to apologise to the person they killed?
"When my parents were killed," he began slowly, "I should have gone to you, but I didn't. I ended up with my aunt and uncle for two reasons; A, because Dumbledore felt that her blood would protect me more than anyone else could, and B, because you were in Azkaban."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. He sat up on the sofa, watching Harry intently. "My parents knew they were a target and went into hiding, via the Fidelius Charm. Who else would he choose as his Secret Keeper, but his best friend? Dumbledore knew there was a spy, but surely it couldn't be you, could it? On Halloween, Voldemort came for them. The Secret Keeper had given them up, and Voldemort had killed them before turning his wand on me; I survived and he was destroyed. The next day, with everyone cheering, partying and celebrating, you were found, but not by Aurors - by an old friend, Peter Pettigrew. You blew him to pieces in the middle of a crowded Muggle street, and all they found was his finger. It wasn't until my third year, when you escaped from Azkaban, that I learned the truth. You were too obvious, and Voldemort was sure to come for you, so you switched it. Peter Pettigrew took the role, and he turned them in. You tracked him down and he faked his own death by blowing apart the street, leaving the finger he had cut off himself and disappearing as a rat down the drain."
"That's why you nearly killed him at the Order meeting," reasoned Sirius. "Merlin. I knew he had a knack for survival, but I never imagined him doing something like that."
"In the current climate," said Harry. "He will side with the apparent victor."
"I could have killed him here, but not back home," said Harry. "In one of life's little ironies, it was my fault. You and Remus wanted to kill him, but I stopped you. I wanted to give him to the Dementors looking for you, to win your freedom, but he escaped. You were forced to flee again, and he went free. That night, everything I wanted was offered to me a platter: Justice for my parents, someone who cared about me and a reason to leave the Dursleys. Because of my weakness, because I forbade you to kill Pettigrew, I gave away what would have made me happy." He closed his eyes, trying to block out the memories. He would not let the tears come. He was stronger than this!
"And you'd have lived as a murderer with death on your conscience," said Sirius, his tone firm, but not angry. "You did the right thing, however hard it must have been; you know that it was the right choice." His voice was reassuring but Harry was sure he didn't understand the full horror of what he had done.
"It robbed you of your freedom," said Harry. "You should have been free; you deserved to be free and my weakness took that away from you."
"It is not weak to value life," said Sirius. "Do you think you, or I for that matter, could have lived, knowing that the price for our happiness was a murder? You did the right thing; the fact that he escaped is unfortunate, but nothing more. I wouldn't blame you for that, and you certainly should not believe that I would."
"Maybe," said Harry. It made sense. Perhaps he was right, but what happened two years later definitely was Harry's fault. "But it certainly was my fault you died."
"I died?" asked Sirius, raising an eyebrow.
"You fell through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries," said Harry. "I allowed myself to be tricked into going there; you came to get me out, and you died. I should have practiced Occlumency, I should have gone to Dumbledore, but instead I led you into a trap." It all came bursting out; months of pent up pain gushed out his mouth. Sirius stared unblinkingly at him.
"I came to your rescue," said Sirius. "If I was in hiding, I made the choice to come to you. It is a choice that and even if I knew where it would lead me, I would make the same choice again. You are powerful, Harry, and you are worth fighting for. I'm your godfather here as well as there, and I can see the sort of person you are. I would make the same sacrifice here as well. You shouldn't blame yourself for my choice."
"But if I hadn't fallen for it…" stammered Harry.
"He would have found another way to trap you," said Sirius. "We've seen how resilient he is. Don't believe for a second that you could have prevented it. Remember, death smiles at us all."
"I know," said Harry. "Dumbledore always says that to a prepared mind, death is but the next logical step."
"Then you should know that I certainly would not blame you for my dying," said Sirius. "You have to let go and move on. That is the best thing you could do both for yourself and for my other self. He wouldn't want you to be sad, and neither would I."
"I guess…." said Harry, unable to find the words.
"So as a tribute to him," said Sirius, "Kick some arse." Harry smirked at his appalling American accent and shook his head, wiping the forming tears from his eyes. "In two hours you can make a start. We've got a meeting with Macky-G at midnight," said Sirius. "I suggest you get a little shut-eye."
"Okay," said Harry, kicking off his shoes and sprawling out on the sofa as Sirius rose to leave. Harry had a lot to think about.
XXXXX
It was exactly midnight when Harry and Sirius appeared in a ball of flame in the centre of McGonagall's office. The lights were out and the room was in darkness as the two new arrivals peered around, their eyes unaccustomed to the darkness. The office was silent, dark and apparently deserted. Harry stared into the darkness, unsure whether to use his wand light, in case it gave away that someone was here.
Suddenly the candles around the room burst into life, giving the office a dim orange glow. McGonagall sat on the sofa, still dressed in her usual teaching garments. Next to her sat Flamel, dressed for bed, while Snape hovered in the corner, his flowing black cloak wrapped tightly around him. His black eyes were only made more sinister by the dim flicker of the candlelight as he eyed Sirius with utmost loathing.
"Punctual, I see," stated Flamel pleasantly. He was unwrapping a sweet as he spoke, and he popped the sweet in his mouth before looking up at Harry and Sirius.
"Please sit," said McGonagall, "time is short." Harry sat down on the desk, while Sirius conjured a stool from mid-air. Neither said a word.
"I will assume you've been completely out of the loop," began McGonagall. "Since you two have fled, the Black Watch have been all over Hogsmeade and other public locations looking for you. There are ten of them in the castle at all times now on a rotating shift. They are ruling with an iron fist, taking in anyone whom they think is one of us. Crouch has also moved swiftly to put the lid on the Order's coffin. We've had more arrests, so it seems that all that's left of the Order is in this room. People resisted at first after your protest, due to the public outcry created by killing children. There was a protest in the Ministry Entrance Hall this morning led by the stepfather of Madeline Price, one of the second year Hufflepuffs who died in the march. Mr Price, and his two collaborators were all found dead that evening, himself having cut his jugular whilst shaving. Of the other two, one left the oven on and his house burned down with him inside, while Mr Defoe drowned while fishing on Lake Windermere. Hermann Glosteen, the last free member of the Wizengamot, raised the legality of Crouch's actions in a session of the Wizengamot. He was arrested on the spot and hasn't been heard of since. The Wizengamot are now entirely under You-Know-Who's control. He had begun to fortify his position. It is not common knowledge that Crouch is a Death Eater yet, but he is recruiting more and more people to the Black Watch, and more lifers are being released from Azkaban into the ranks. In short, all diplomatic means of protest have now been crushed. Michael Hargreaves was the editor of The Magical Gazette until he printed a story about the Hogwarts protest and questioned Crouch's motives. He has been removed and Crouch now controls the press. The public are blind to what is going on."
She paused, allowing her brief summary to sink in. Harry digested the information slowly. It left only one option available. The situation was almost hopeless. How had they let this happen? Why had they not seen it coming?
"So where do we go from here?" asked Sirius. "The only path left open is an attack." Harry was thinking along the same lines, though he wasn't sure exactly how to do it.
"This risks further loss of life," said McGonagall, dismissing the idea.
"As much as it grieves me to admit it," said Snape icily from the shadows, "I agree with the mutt. Naked force is the only tactic left. However, Gryffindor bravado will not help, and neither will getting yourselves caught in a folly attempt to regain control." Sirius shot a glare at Snape, who leaned forward into the light, allowing the candles to highlight his face. "Though I am curious as to whether the Boy-Wonder has realised exactly what is involved here. If you somehow get to Crouch, there is only one action left open to you. You cannot make him order the Black Watch to stand down. He himself is just a stepping stone to the real architect, but in order to disrupt the Black Watch, both must be removed."
"You mean killed?"
"They are too dangerous to be left alive," said Snape, his eyes fixed on Harry, assessing his reaction. "Your role must be to kill, and you cannot have any qualms about it. Hesitate in this game and you will be lost forever. The time for arresting is over. You must become the assassin. In one of life's little ironies, what is needed here is…"
"…The Dark Knight," said Harry, finishing the sentence. Snape's head sank into the smallest of nods.
"Of course," said Snape, "even if you managed to remove the Dark Lord and his puppet, the Black Watch would cut you to shreds in their panic and confusion. You would need some backup, and the four of us are not capable. Somehow, you need to get some support, some people who can keep the Black Watch at bay."
"Are we any closer to finding Dumbledore?" asked Harry, looking at McGonagall. She shook her head. "Our last contacts in the Ministry have disappeared. We are out of the loop." Great. So there was no back up, no support coming.
"Even if we did," said Sirius, "we'd need to be Arnold Schwarzenegger to get him out. With Dumbledore's reputation, he'll be guarded day and night."
"Who's Arnold Swaggerer?" asked McGonagall.
"Good idea," said Harry, not realising he'd said it out loud. At the name, Harry had thought back to Dudley's action films. Sirius had suggested it back at the farm, but now it made a little more sense. It was the only option left. Muggles may in fact be the answer. "We could go Muggle," said Harry.
"What?" asked Snape.
"Recruit help from the Muggles," said Harry, staring him in the eye. "The Prime Minister is in contact with the Minister of Magic, but the chances are that Crouch wouldn't have deemed a Muggle worthy of his time so he wouldn't have visited. If I could convince the Prime Minister to help us, we would be in a much stronger position, if only to get Dumbledore free. From there a better plan could me be made."
"And if you fail?" asked Snape. "He would go to the Ministry claiming that a stranger and a former murderer - remember, he helped in the hunt for you and may remember you - has been to see him. Crouch would know. Then you would have both Magical and Muggle government forces looking for you. "
"Also bear in mind the political climate," said Flamel. "Remember that there have been many attacks on Muggles recently, and he knows it is wizards who are doing it. He will not trust you lightly and as Severus has said, he will remember you."
"He will do what's right," said Harry. "If only to stay in power, he will do what's right, to prevent a war."
"If you tell him that there is a war coming," said McGonagall, "he may risk a pre-emptive strike and even more will die."
"Is that better or worse than being caught unprepared, now that Voldemort is in control?" challenged Harry, ignoring the gasp at the name.
"Better," said Snape, "but marginally."
"I agree with Harry," said Flamel slowly. His brow was furrowed in thought. "We need more men, and those whom we know are loyal; we know Muggles, for instance, will not be traitors."
"The Dark Lord will expect an attack," said Snape. "He will try and draw you out, present you with a target and wait until you strike." For once, Harry and Snape agreed.
"He's expecting me," said Harry. "Only me. He isn't expecting us or any other help we get. We can flip the trap by offering me as a diversion while the real trap is sprung on him. All we need is more men."
"You are playing a dangerous game," said McGonagall. "Getting Muggles killed will create more tension in an already unstable environment."
"I have to try," said Harry. "We're at a stage where it's all or nothing. Time is an enemy, not a friend here."
"So our timing must be perfect," said Snape. "Such rash moves are predictable."
"He despises Muggles," said Harry. "He wouldn't lower himself to using them, and he won't expect us to. His arrogance will be his downfall."
"So even if you recruit Muggles," said Snape. "What then?"
"Locate Dumbledore, free him and regroup," said Harry.
"And how do you find Dumbledore?"
"Only Crouch will know that," said Harry.
"So you will use the Muggles to storm the Ministry and get Crouch?"
"Of course not," said Harry. "It only takes one to go in and kidnap him. The more people go in, the more chance of screwing up."
"So you regroup, this time with Dumbledore and the Muggles," said Snape. "To what end?"
"Dumbledore will know," said Harry. "And this time, he'll have an army at his disposal. This time, we will be equipped to fight back."
"We have to decide quickly," said McGonagall. "Before anyone realises you're here. A vote: yes, and Harry goes to the Prime Minister. No, and we adjourn to a later date. Nicolas?"
"Yes."
"Sirius?"
"Yes."
"Harry?"
"Yes."
"Severus?"
"Since the majority have voted yes," said the Defence Master, "my thoughts are irrelevant."
"We move as one," said McGonagall, "It must be unanimous."
"Yes," said Snape.
"And I vote yes," said McGonagall. "Go on, Harry, but be careful. He is not as stupid as You-Know-Who thinks. Remember, he can play you as much as you can him. Be on your guard."
"I will," said Harry.
"Now go, quickly," said McGonagall.
Harry nodded and took Sirius's arm before disappearing in a ball of flames.
XXXXX
Large black iron gates stand some twenty feet high at both ends of the most famous street in England. At each gate stands a policeman on patrol, while another stands on guard outside the famous black door of number ten.
As Harry stood at the north end of Downing Street, he realised just what a fortress this deceptively calm and common-looking street was. Rumours varied, but apparently the cabinet room, where meetings were held was in essence a nuclear bunker with metal walls several feet thick, that could keep the PM safe from an attack by the USSR. Harry reminded himself that in fact the Cold War was still on and that the USSR were still the enemy. Harry stared down the road towards the polished black door that could stand a direct hit from a tank. This was simple on paper, but in practice it was nothing of the sort. He had no idea which room was the PM's office. He also had no idea where people were, so Flaming in would be a nightmare.
It was almost one o'clock in the morning and the clouds had come in, blocking out all light. Harry was dressed all in black with a balaclava pulled down over his face, making him almost invisible against the darkness. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small instrument that had once belonged to Dumbledore. It looked like an odd cigarette lighter, but was much bigger. Harry raised the Put-Outer towards the nearest street lamp and clicked the top. Instantly the lamp went out, allowing darkness to creep a littler closer to the steps of the Prime Minister's house. He aimed for the second light and clicked again. Both of those on top of the gate were now out, much to the confusion of the policeman standing guard. Harry clicked the Put-Outer a third time to remove the light next to the door. Half the street was in darkness now, and it would be all to too easy for Harry to reach the door.
The policeman guarding the gate was glancing from side to side, fear growing on his face. Who said Muggles never noticed anything? This man wasn't stupid; he knew something was up. Three lights going out at the same time was suspicious. The policeman reached to his hip and unbuttoned his holster, removing a service revolver. Harry was mildly surprised; coppers in Britain didn't usually carry guns, but since they were guarding the leader of the country and given current affairs, it was understandable. It didn't make his job any easier.
Aiming his wand at the policeman, Harry took a deep breath. It was now or never.
Petrificus Totalus!
XXXXX
It was nearly one in the morning but the Prime Minister was still up and hard at work. There was always something that needed doing. Many people thought he just sat around being advised, made a speech every now and then and on the odd occasion said yes or no to a plan. They seemed to think this was an easy job, but it wasn't. It was his head on the block if things went wrong. The slightest glitch or scandal, even if he had no knowledge of it, and he was the one dragged through the mud by the tabloids. Jesus, if they ever got hold of the Edwina story, his career would be over. The Prime Minister shook his head at the thought. No, he needed to keep his head down. He had enough to deal with on his own.
Only a few weeks ago the accursed painting in the wall had announced the arrival of Barty Crouch, the Minister of Magic. The Prime Minster had met Crouch on several occasions over the years and it seemed that every time he came he brought worse news. The Prime Minister had not understood most of it, as the explanations had been filled with incomprehensible words like Kwidditch, Floom, Porto-something-or-other and God knows what else. As he understood the situation, there was a man out there, a psychopathic murderer they called You-Know-Who, who was murdering normal people left, right and centre. It seemed that this hidden community were on the edge of a race riot, fighting amongst themselves over the purity of blood. From the very first meeting this seemed to be a cause from concern. They seemed like a culture of barbaric racists, intent on killing normal people.
While Crouch had assured him that the situation was under control, he had never resolved it. Every time they met things seemed to have been getting worse; more deaths here, an attack there, mysterious occurrences in London and all sorts.
Then a new name had been brought to his attention. Apparently Harry Potter, whoever he was, had been causing havoc for the last year. He was rumoured to be as bad as this You-Know-Who. Things had gone from bad to worse over the years, so that eventually the Prime Minister had been forced to brief COBRA on the situation. They had thought him mad at first, but luckily the representative from MI5 had been able to secure evidence of their existence. The Army had begun construction of a contingency plan for if the civil war in the magical world ever spilled over into their world. Things had continued to go from bad to worse when the head of the project was murdered by this Harry Potter. They had relocated the project to Princetown but that had not been enough; the base had been attacked, allegedly by the IRA. The old enemy were rearing their heads again.
And then there was the nuclear incident last month. According the Crouch, the device had gone off but underground where it had been contained. It was safe, but the country was not. You-Know-Who was still murdering innocents, and as far as he knew the civil war was still raging, yet the normal people now had no defence. The Prime Minister had thought that things couldn't any much worse until a fortnight ago when Crouch had come to him claiming to have You-Know-Who in custody and that the war was over. The Prime Minister had been delighted at first, but was soon devastated to hear that there were still attacks up and down the country on normal people. You-Know-Who may be in custody, or Crouch could have been lying, the Prime Minister didn't know, but as long as these attacks were going on, he couldn't stop worrying. Then a few days ago things had gotten much worse: The painting in the corner had announced the imminent arrival of the Minister of Magic.
When the wizard stepped out of the fire, the Prime Minister had been surprised to see a young man with mousy coloured hair and a thin, rodent-like face. There was something about him that made the Prime Minister shiver at the sight of him.
"Where is Mister Crouch?" the Prime Minister had asked.
"I'm afraid I have bad news," the stranger had replied. "The Minister of Magic was murdered this morning." The shock had been enough to make the Prime Minister collapse back into his chair. If wizards could murder the Minister of Magic…that meant no one was safe. They could be coming for him now. The blood drained from his face.
"Rest assured, we have already brought the men responsible to justice," the stranger had told him. The Prime Minister had had a feeling that he was hiding something, but he let it go. The stranger had continued. "I am Barty Crouch Junior, and I have taken over my father's responsibilities as Minister of Magic." It had all been a little much for the Prime Minister. He clearly remembered how he had sat there flabbergasted as Crouch Junior had brought him up to date.
"The terrorist group calling themselves the Order of the Phoenix had been arrested," he had begun. This had been a good sign, the Prime Minister noted, but there had been something about Crouch, the way he looked at him as if were an insect, that had made the Prime Minister nervous. "I have formed a team of Aurors to sweep through the community, wrinkling out the last members of this organisation. Rest assured, Prime Minister, within days we will have gotten them all."
"And You-Know-Who is still in prison?"
"He is," Crouch has assured him. "We can hopefully put this horrible conflict behind us and get on now."
"And Harry Potter?"
"He is being taken care of," Crouch had said. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have work to do."
Before the Prime Minister had been able to object, Crouch had disappeared into the fire. There had been something about his manner that worried the Prime Minister to this very day. He looked at him as if he were nothing, an inferior. He just seemed to embody the viciousness that his father had mentioned the Dead Eaters, or whatever they were called, seemed to embody. He was so cold and yet the Prime Minister was sure he was hiding something. He also had not given him a decent answer about Harry Potter or You-Know-Who. He seemed to give a blunt answer, but the Prime Minster was certain there was more to it.
But what could he do? Arctic Thunder had been destroyed; allegedly by the IRA, but most likely by these so called Dead Eaters. He was well and truly backed into a corner, but he had done what little he could. Special Forces were at present on high alert; the trouble was that they could not be told why or what they would be facing. Maybe he should just go public and announce to the world that wizards existed. But they could probably wipe people's memories and have him committed to a mental institute, unless he had cast iron proof. It was a possibility, and it would allow the wizards time to arm themselves. However, it would only make the wizards more hostile and segregated. Also, it would be admitting that he had helped cover them up for years. It would be political suicide. But it was the right thing to do…the public might see that and sympathise, an honest man in power rather than a slimy politician. No, it was too great a risk. He would be out before he could say a word.
"Good evening, Prime Minister," said a voice suddenly. The Prime Minister was so shocked he knocked over the cup of herbal tea on his desk, covering his notes and documents in tea. Cursing to himself, the Prime Minister looked up at the speaker. The room was dimly lit, but he could see a figure standing by the door, dressed all in black and wearing a cloak. It was one of the wizards! Was it Crouch? Usually, he was announced by the painting, even the new one. So who was this? The Prime Minister's hand slowly began to move towards the underside of his desk, where a panic button was located. If he pressed it, armed police would be through the door in three seconds flat.
"There is no need for that, Prime Minister," said the speaker calmly. "I have frozen the button. It will not work." The Prime Minister's hand flew to the panic button and jabbed it, but nothing happened. He starred at the door for one second and then another. After five, nothing had happened, not even the sound of running feet.
"I'm sorry to do this, Prime Minister," said the intruder. "Rest assured, I mean you no harm, but it is essential that this conversation remain private." The Prime Minister's face drained of blood and shivers shot up his spine as he realised he was trapped. The wizard stepped forwards into the light. The Prime Minister found himself staring at a short thin man wrapped in a black travelling cloak with the hood up. He looked like the villain from the old Star Wars films that the Prime Minister had enjoyed as a child.
"Allow me," said the intruder, producing a wand from the folds of his robes. The Prime Minister recoiled in fear. The intruder swept his wand over the desk and the spilt tea disappeared, leaving the documents unharmed. It was as if the tea had never been spilt, which was a relief as the pile contained many very important documents.
"Er…thank you," mumbled the Prime Minister. He always found that his voice seemed to run away when there was a wizard present. Words seemed to be an issue for him. The Stranger seemed not to notice this. He put the wand away and raised his hands to his hood and lowered it to reveal his face. The Prime Minister found himself staring at a boy of no more than sixteen years of age. He had messy raven black hair and sparkling green eyes.
"I know this is not how these visits should proceed," said the boy, "but unfortunately the situation has been so severe that this is the only way I could speak to you. As you might have realised, the Ministry of Magic does not know that I am here, and would probably arrest me if they found out. I am breaking several laws in being here, but in order to save lives I am willing to do so. May I sit?"
The Prime Minister was too worried to disagree, not to mention that he had lost his voice. He nodded and the Stranger sank into a chair in front of the desk.
"Forgive this intrusion," continued the Stranger. "I know that our world must confuse you and judging by what is happening to us, we must seem barbaric. You must feel as though you are a stranger in an unholy land. This is something I know a great deal about. We have much to discuss, but I will try to make this as simple as I can. First, and this may startle you, but allow me to introduce myself. My name is Harry Potter."
The Prime Minister's jaw dropped. He had thought the boy looked vaguely familiar. He had seen mugshots of the boy. This was the so-called Dark Knight, a Death Eater, a murderer. Blood drained from his face and his hands gripped the arms of the hair so hard his knuckles turn turned white. He was here to kill him! The Prime Minister glanced down at the panic button, wishing to god that it had worked and that there was merely a delay.
"Your reaction tells me that you have heard of me," said the boy, bowing his head in what might be interpreted as shame, but the Prime Minister was not stupid enough to fall for crocodile tears. "First, let me assure you that I am not the person you have read about. This summer something happened to me and I changed. It's hard to explain without an in-depth knowledge of magic, but let's put it like this. Have you ever seen the film Back to the Future, where someone changes time and Marty gets back to his time and everything's changed and everyone thinks he is someone else? That is essentially what has happened to me - but no flying cars or time travel. I am not what everyone thinks. That guy is gone, hopefully forever, but everyone still thinks I am him. I can appreciate that this is hard to believe but it is the truth. Please just hear me out."
"Okay," muttered the Prime Minister, though he had not believed a word that was said.
"You will no doubt have been told that the Dark Lord Voldemort has been fighting a civil war for years," said Potter.
"Yes," replied the Prime Minister, finding his voice. "But he was arrested and his terror network the Order of the Phoenix and the Dead Eaters are being rounded up. Minister Crouch told me."
"I'm afraid that Minister Crouch has not been honest," said Potter. "I know it is only my word against his, but please listen. Minister Crouch is a Death Eater. He is one of the enemy we are all trying to defeat. The Dark Lord handed himself in, making it look like he was arrested. It was a trick in order to get him into the Ministry of Magic building. On the last day of November, he murdered the Minister of Magic and arrested the only man strong enough to defeat him, Albus Dumbledore. Since then he has appointed Crouch as Minister of Magic and posted a Death Eater as head of every department in the Ministry. Hundreds of prisoners, most of them on a life sentence for murder, have been released from the prison of Azkaban. He is building an army ready to attack your people, Prime Minister. Crouch is merely keeping you quiet until they are ready."
"I…you…what?" stammer the Prime Minster, the information washing over him like a tidal wave. How was this possible? Surely Crouch hadn't deceived him. This Potter was a murderer; it had to be a trick.
"I know this is a lot to take in, Prime Minister," said Potter calmly. There was something in his tone that made the Prime Minister want to trust him. If it were not for the fact that he knew he was a murderer, he might even fall for this trick. Potter continued. "Voldemort hates all Muggles - that would be normal people - and any wizard born to non-magical parents. I don't know exactly what he has in mind, but the long and the short of it is to build an army, take the country by force and then dispose of all non-magical people. He is almost powerful enough to do this. The Order of the Phoenix, who you have been told are terrorists, are actually a group of people fighting the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, now that the Dark Lord's servants are in power in the Ministry, the Order of the Phoenix have been arrested and there is a warrant out there with my name on it. There are a few of us who have survived. We are still trying to stop this war."
"So let me get this straight," said the Prime Minister. "You are a wizard, and a former Death Eater, and a war is coming yet for some reason you are warning me and fighting on our side?"
"I am on no one's side," said Potter. "I am trying to save lives by preventing a war that will kill thousands on both sides. Your people and mine will be killed unless we find a way to stop this."
"And let's say I believe you," said the Prime Minister. "What would you want from me?"
"What I am about to say cannot leave this office," said Potter. "You remember Project Arctic Thunder? We knew about it all along and what its purpose was. It was not the IRA that broke into the facility, it was me. I have one of the devices safe. With Voldemort in absolute power, there are no political routes left to fight him. We must resort to force, and there are no lengths he will not go to stop us. I led students into the village of Hogsmeade in a peaceful protest. The Dark Lord ordered his Aurors - that's his special forces - to fire on students. Children were hurt and killed in the incident. He has kicked all Muggleborn people out of Hogwarts school. What we will ultimately have to do is break into the Ministry of Magic. I would like you to place a team of SAS soldiers at my disposal."
"What?"
"When we have a plan and are ready," explained Potter. "We will still only be a dozen or so strong, including people my age. We need a bigger force. Once we start resisting, more people who joined Voldemort out of fear will come back to us, but only if we can start a resistance with a chance of success."
"So there is a war brewing and you want me to place my soldiers at your disposal so you can start one?"
"No," said Potter. "I need them to liberate a country in the grip of fear. If we don't act soon, there will be no one left to fight him. You cannot win. You can place the entire SAS in front of Voldemort's army and he will keep coming. Remember the attack on the Devonport Naval Base? How many Royal Marines Commandos were killed? Give me a squad who will know exactly what they are up against and how to take them down. Let us stop this war by going after the source, not the soldiers caught up in this mess."
"The ludicrous thing is," said the Prime Minister, "I almost believe you. I just can't forget your past."
"True," said Potter. "But rest assured that was not me, and the guy is gone; but I have no proof. It's my word against Crouch's. Crouch murdered his father and tortured my friend's parents almost to death. You can see it in Crouch's eyes; he's a monster. Now look at me."
The Prime Minister was shaken slightly. He had gotten a horrible feeling when Crouch Junior was in his office. There was something about him that spooked the Prime Minister, while this boy seemed genuine.
"Have you read reports on previous attacks?" asked Potter. The Prime Minister nodded. "There would have been a light in the sky afterwards in the shape of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. It is the Dark Mark, His Mark. If you look at Crouch's left arm, you will see it branded into his arm. It is how the Dark Lord summons his followers. Look at my arm."
Potter rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a well toned, scarred, but unmarked arm. The Prime Minister had read the reports from Crouch Senior on Death Eaters; he had heard of the Dark Mark before. It was not exactly proper proof, but he felt that the boy was genuine. But was he basing this judgement on the fact he didn't like Crouch Junior? That was not a proper reason, and if he were wrong it would kill thousands. Who should he trust? "Villainy wears many masks, none more dangerous than the mask of virtue". Ichabod Crane had said that in the book The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Potter or Crouch? Neither had offered any proof. Potter didn't have the Dark Mark, but the Minister didn't know if Crouch did. He had to come to a decision quickly. Potter had come here unannounced and illegally, but Crouch was the Minister of Magic and it seemed they didn't get on. But Crouch had said his father had been murdered and Potter confirmed this. Neither showed much pity for the late Minister. The Prime Minister at last reached a decision.
"Fine," said the Prime Minister. He wrote down a number on a piece of paper and handed it to Potter. "This is the number of the Hereford barracks where the SAS are. I will telephone them and have them put a team on full alert, fully armed, and to expect a call from someone called Pandora. Tell them you are Pandora and they will put you through to the commanding officer, Colonel Evans. They will be at your disposal." What Potter didn't know was that the CO of the SAS would then phone him and let him know exactly what Potter was up to. The boy would be on a very short leash and watched all the way.
"Thank you, Prime Minister," said Potter. "You have my word, I will do everything I can to minimise the risk to your men, even if it means putting mine at more risk. If you wish for more proof, you can look at Crouch's arm or feed him this; it is a powerful truth drug called Veritaserum. Put three drops in his tea when he comes around and he will tell you everything. After that, you cannot let him go, or he will bring the wrath of his new army down on you. If you do this, let me know."
"How?"
"The Launceston Gazette," said Harry. "It is a local newspaper in Cornwall. Put an advert in the obituaries announcing the death of Barry Clark, aged 99, and I will come and visit you again."
"Very well, Mister Potter," said the Prime Minister, rising to his feet and extending a hand. "I am taking a great risk here, so don't make me regret it."
"You won't," said Potter, shaking his hand.
"Missus Yates will show you out," said the Prime Minister.
"No need," said Potter. He pulled his wand out from within his robes again and pointed it at the desk. "Your panic button is working again. Good night, Prime Minister." The Prime Minister gasped in surprise as Harry Potter burst into flame. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, but when he looked again, Potter had disappeared. The room was empty and there was no sign that he had ever been here except for a bottle of the truth drug on the desk.
The Prime Minister stood for a moment in thought. No, he would not kidnap Crouch. That only risked insulting him and starting this war too early. For the time being, they needed time; he would have the armed forces recalled and put on alert. Training exercises, especially those in urban warfare, would be carried out immediately. MI5 would bring in as much information as they had on these wizards and what was left of Arctic Thunder would be salvaged if possible. Potter still had one, which he could eventually demand back if push came to shove. This was a dangerous game, but he had work to do.
XXXXX
Harry and Sirius reappeared in a ball of flame in a darkened corridor deep within the bowels of the Ministry. They were fortunate that Harry could Flame from place to place, otherwise their method of entry might have been detected. There were Anti-Portkey and Anti-Apparation wards all over the building. No one could enter without being detected - no one except Harry, that is. He released Sirius and glanced around the corridor. Sirius was a classically trained Auror, while Harry was a recklessly trained killing machine. Both had the instincts of a warrior, and instantly glanced around, weapons drawn. The difference was that Harry wasn't sure his instincts were there to protect him. He still did not trust his feelings yet. Between the phoenix and the other Harry, the voices inside his head were very confusing. Fully armoured and with his wand drawn, he stared left then right down the darkened corridor. It was quarter past three and the lights were off. The Ministry employed only a skeleton staff between midnight until six in the morning. Harry considered using his stun baton, but it was so easy to spot and recognise as a weapon. Instead he stood motionless, allowing his eyes to adapt to the dimness.
It took nearly five minutes before he could see adequately in the gloom. Sirius was standing against the opposite wall, staring down the corridor.
"Last chance to back out," he whispered.
"There is no other way," hissed Harry. "Short of bombing the hell out of the building, but that would kill hundreds of innocents. Ready to go?"
"As I'll ever be," said Sirius. Harry smirked at his casual manner. "Come on," said Sirius. He headed to the left and started off down the corridor, his boots making no sound on the hard floor of the passage. They had gone about fifty feet when they came to a crossroad. Sirius paused at the corner, pressing his back into the wall and keeping himself in the shadows. Cautiously, cat-like, he stuck his head around the corner, peering in both directions before darting across the passage and disappearing into the shadows on the far side. Harry glanced around before following suit. Their pace was quick, but silent. It was another thirty feet before Sirius stopped again.
Something felt wrong. The lack of obstacles was unnerving; it was much the same feeling as Harry had had in the maze during the third task. He shuddered as he remembered how that one had turned out. Surely his luck wasn't that bad?
Suddenly he heard something. His heart skipped a beat. Footsteps! Someone was coming. He glanced at Sirius, who was looking around for a way out. There was no time to go anywhere; they were trapped.
"Hold on," whispered Sirius. He put an arm around Harry and pointed his wand at them. What was he planning? Surely a disillusionment charm would never work.
"Gravitae Invertus!" hissed Sirius. Without warning, Harry's feet left the ground, himself unable to do anything about it. It took all his effort not to yell in surprise. His body was spun in midair. He felt like he was falling, only he was moving upwards. He landed surprisingly gently. He was glad to be back on solid ground and glanced at Sirius, who abruptly pulled him down. As they lay flat on the ground, Harry glanced around, trying to make out what had just happened. He was astonished to find himself looking up at the floor. He was lying on the ceiling, staring down the corridor. They were concealed behind a metal support beam on the ceiling. Harry glanced over at Sirius and was surprised to find that his longer hair was not dangling upwards towards the floor above them, but the ceiling on which they were lying. Their world had quite literally and laterally been turned upside down and gravity seemed to have reversed itself for the two of them.
Sirius winked at him, just as the new arrival came around the corner. It was a Black Watch Auror, his face hidden behind his mask. The footsteps were light but echoed softly in the polished corridors of the deserted ministry. As the Auror neared them, Harry could hear that the Auror was mumbling to himself, only the voice was far too high; it must be a woman. There was something oddly familiar about the voice, but Harry couldn't place it.
"Wait!" called a voice, causing Harry to jump, but luckily he managed not to make a sound. He glanced 'up', which was in fact down, at the new arrival. A second Auror was running down the corridor in pursuit of the female Auror. He caught up with her directly below Harry and Sirius. Harry cursed silently to himself. Off all the places on all the floors, they had to stop in the two square feet beneath them. It had to be Murphy's law.
"What?" asked the woman impatiently.
"The Minister wishes to speak to you," said the man. The woman reached up and lowered her veil and her hood. Harry's teeth gritted and his fists clenched at the sight of Bellatrix Black. His fingers crept to his wand.
"Does he have any idea what time it is?" asked Bellatrix, a glimmer of frustration on her face. Harry glanced at Sirius, who was eyeing Bellatrix with a look of utter loathing on his face. His eyes met Harry's and he shook his head. Both of them had a score to settle with Bella but both knew that they had a job to do. It was hard to walk away when she was so close, but they had to. On the positive side, she would lead them to Crouch.
"I apologise, ma'am," said the man. "These orders come from the Dark Lord himself."
"Then we should not keep him waiting," said Bellatrix, heading off to the north. This was their chance. They could follow her to Crouch and take them both. But what if Voldemort was there himself?
"We should follow," Harry whispered to Sirius.
"If Voldemort is there, we have to abort; neither of us can take him in this state," said Sirius. "It's becoming too risky."
"Let's follow them," repeated Harry. "We won't get another chance at this. We'll have to wait until Crouch is alone, but at least we will know where he is." They had to succeed here. There was no turning back.
"Just don't do anything stupid," muttered Sirius. He removed the spell and Harry again experienced the falling and spinning feeling and once again found himself lying on the cold hard floor of the ceiling, though this time up was up and down was down. He stood up quickly, and with Sirius a pace behind, set off in the direction that Bellatrix had gone.
They crept on tiptoe down the passage in pursuit of the Death Eater and whoever this other guy was. The heels of Bellatrix's shoes made a sharp clicking as she stalked off in the direction of her boss, but hopefully not her master. The soft padding of her accomplice followed and then behind them came Sirius and Harry, making little to no sound as they slipped in and out of the shadows in the dimly lit corridors of the Ministry. The place was a labyrinth of tunnels, doors and offices, but Bellatrix seemed to know it disturbingly well. She had been here for some time, or at least had studied the building, which was a disturbing thought.
They had walked for perhaps five minutes when at last they came to a familiar pair of large ornate double doors that slid open as Bellatrix approached. Inside, the room was dark. Harry and Sirius could see into the Minister's own department as the doors opened. The room was in shadow. The only lights on were the ones in Minister's office, which filtered down through the glass walls to the larger room below. The six secretaries were absent, leaving the room still and dark. Bellatrix crossed to the stairs and began to climb. Sirius and Harry slipped into the room and dived behind a desk before the doors could slide shut. Bellatrix marched up into the office without knocking, followed by the messenger.
Once the door shut, Sirius spoke.
"We don't know how many are in there, or who," he whispered. "This is tactically dangerous, not to mention stupid."
"I know," said Harry, eyeing the office. "We need to wait until they come out. We need to grab Crouch, but Bellatrix would also be a good idea." There was a personal satisfaction in getting her as well. Crouch was the primary objective, but scoring one on Bellatrix was a pleasurable second objective.
"If she is walking more or less freely in the Ministry, then things are more serious than we feared," hissed Sirius. Harry agreed. If people like her could walk the streets unimpeded, nothing was beyond Voldemort. It also meant that the final stages of the plan were in motion if he was bringing in the big guns. "If Voldemort can pull strings to let her in, then he must be in complete control. He will be building an army. Whatever he has planned will happen soon," said Sirius, reading Harry's mind.
"If only we had Extendable Ears we could listen in," muttered Harry.
"What?"
"Fred and George's inventions in my world," he hissed back.
"We don't have any way to listen in," said Sirius. "That's why we need Crouch alive. We need to wait until he comes out and hopefully, he'll be alone." Great. Patience was not one of Harry's virtues. He was cramped behind the desk, and there was no telling how long they would have to wait.
The meeting seemed to go on for hours in Harry's mind. In fact it was no more than fifteen minutes, but it seemed like one hell of a lot longer. Harry and Sirius remained crouched behind the desk, hidden from the office above. After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened and out stepped the errand boy who had come to get Bellatrix. He scooted off out the door, sprinting away down the corridor. It was another few seconds before the door to the office opened again and Crouch stepped out, followed by Bellatrix. The two made their way down the steps and headed over towards the main door, passing right by Harry and Sirius.
"We won't get a better chance," hissed Harry as the doors slid open for Bellatrix to leave.
"Fine," said Sirius. "Wait here. I'll make the first move." He crawled on hands and knees between the desks, snaking towards the office from which they had come. Harry was not sure what he was going to do, but he had to get ready to stop their escape. He too began to crawl towards the door, closer to where Crouch and Bellatrix were talking. Whatever Sirius was going to do, Harry had to be ready to cover him.
"And Bella," added Crouch as an afterthought as Harry approached. "They are not to be killed or harmed, according to His orders, so try to curb your enthusiasm." She shot him an evil glare and turned to leave.
"'ello, cuz," said a voice from the other side of the room.
Bellatrix whipped around to see Sirius casually sitting in a chair with his feet up on the desk. He looked perfectly at ease, sprawled out on the seat. Crouch's face showed pure shock as he recognised the Auror. Sirius didn't even have his wand raised.
"How in the hell did you get in here?" Crouch snapped, levelling his wand at Sirius. Harry slipped between the desks, arriving at the one nearest the door. He was ready.
"Same way you did," replied Sirius boyishly. "Through the door." Harry crawled out from his cover, getting closer and closer to Crouch, approaching from behind. He rose silently to his feet, two feet behind the Minister.
Petrificus Totalus!
Harry caught Crouch as his frozen body keeled over backwards. Bellatrix turned, a look of surprise on her face as she recognised him. Her wand arm started to move as her eyes grew wide in recognition. She never got halfway as a disarming charm hit her in the back, courtesy of Sirius. Glaring at Sirius, she regained her balance. She looked from Harry to Sirius and back again, her eyes darting around, looking for a way out. She glared at each of them in turn. Sirius banished her wand away, launching it across the room. Bellatrix paused for a second, regaining her composure.
"Ah," she said, apparently calmly. "The prodigal son returns."
"Lose the wand, Les…Black," said Harry, aiming his own at her throat. She flashed an irritated glance at him before sliding a hand into her robes and calmly removing her second wand with two fingers and dropping it on the desk. Sirius sent that one away to join her original.
"You haven't lost your touch, getting in here," she said coldly to Harry. "But you've clearly lost your mind if you think you can walk out of here with him." Harry glanced down at the fallen Crouch. It wouldn't be too hard. He could Flame them out, but Bellatrix mustn't see him do it, or his abilities would be compromised.
"Hope springs eternal, Trixy," said Sirius, rising to his feet. Bellatrix scowled at the name. "Now be a good girl and get down on your knees, hands behind your head."
"And if I refuse?" asked Bellatrix icily.
"We put you down," replied Sirius, a look of utter loathing in his eyes - a look he normally reserved for Snape.
"Let me acquaint you with the latest security measure that has been put in place," said Bellatrix casually. "The Black Watch can now monitor all magic in the building, which means that every spell from a Cleaning Charm to the Killing Curse will be picked up by the Aurors. Therefore, should someone break in at half three in the morning and put a full body bind on the Minister of Magic, this happens."
She raised her hand to the door before Harry could stop her. The double doors slid open, revealing five men in jet-black robes with the word Auror embossed in white across their chests. Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as the Black Watch stepped into the room. He didn't have to react before a disarming charm struck him in the shoulder. The wand soared out of his hand. Instead of rectifying his balance from the force of the spell, Harry used the momentum to roll, picking up Crouch as he did. As he came back up to his feet, he withdrew his second wand and aimed it at Bellatrix. He positioned Crouch as a human shield.
"Let him go, Potter," said one of the Aurors, stepping forward, his wand raised. Harry glanced at Sirius, whose wand had been removed and who now had several wands aimed at him. Looking smug, Bellatrix summoned her wand back to her and levelled it at Sirius' neck before glaring at Harry, the message all too clear.
"Do it," said Sirius after a second. "Kill the bastard! Go!" Harry moved his wand up to Crouch's neck, but no further. His eyes shot from Bellatrix to Sirius to the others. He could get Crouch out of here, or he could kill Crouch, but if he did either of them, Sirius would be left alone and would die; Bellatrix would see to that. Either way, his godfather was dead. He had a duty to do, to end this war. However, it wouldn't end with Crouch; it had to end with Voldemort. He couldn't let himself be captured. Christ, this was hard.
"He won't do it, cousin," sneered Bellatrix. "He has become so used to the Potter way that any hint of a killer is gone. He doesn't have the power any more, or the sense to do it. Look at him; all he's thinking about is his godfather. How touching." Harry wished to scream at her as she mocked him, but had the sense to remain calm. Christ, if he didn't let Crouch go, they would kill Sirius. If he let Crouch go, Sirius would probably die anyway. Harry had no way to get them out; he couldn't get to Sirius, who was ten feet away, and disappear quickly enough.
"Don't hesitate," said Sirius. "Do it!"
"We both know he can't," said Bellatrix. "Let him go, Potter."
Harry didn't move, staring from Sirius to Bellatrix to Crouch. The other Aurors had their wands aimed at him, but were not going to move without orders.
"I'm going to count to three," said Bellatrix.
"She's been practicing," added Sirius, earning himself a smack from the back of Bellatrix's hand. She glared at him before turning to Harry.
"If you haven't let him go by the time I get to three," said Bellatrix, "he dies. One…"
Harry levelled his wand at Bellatrix, but the Aurors stepped forwards, asserting their position. If he fired, he would have no time to get a shield up to defend himself.
"Two."
It was hopeless.
"All right!" said Harry, before Bellatrix could get to three. "Finite Incantatum." Crouch, able to move once more, stepped forward and away from Harry, coughing and spluttering as his lungs filled with air. He picked up his wand and turned on Harry, shooting glares of daggers.
"What made you think you could lay your filthy Mudblood hands on me?" he seethed, the vein in his temple throbbing. "No matter," he continued. "There's someone who wants to see you. Bring them!"
Harry couldn't believe they were surrendering, but there was no way out. They were outnumbered and trapped. He could Flame out, but that would reveal his power. Unless he was near enough to touch Sirius, he could end up leaving him behind, which wasn't an option. He had lost his godfather once; he would not do it again.
Harry felt a wand press into his back as a voice hissed in his ear. "March!"
Harry followed Crouch out of the room and into the corridor, ever aware of the wand pressed into his back. He walked with his hands on his head, with Sirius somewhere behind him. The nine of them formed an ominous-looking procession as they were led through the icy corridors. The gloom around them seemed eerie as they passed, perhaps because of whom they were going to see. If Crouch answered to them, it could only be one person. It looked like they were going back to the cells to visit the old man again.
Had Harry exhausted his purpose this time? Would he kill him on sight now? What of Sirius? More questions filled his mind as he was led towards the stairs. They descended in single file, spaced far enough apart for the Aurors to keep their wands aimed at Harry and Sirius, so that they weren't close enough for them to try and escape.
They reached the right floor and were guided out of the staircase and into another dim corridor. Harry didn't need the lights on to know where he was. They were approaching the hidden cells and the Department of Mysteries. The painting of a hanging scene on the right up ahead concealed the entrance. Harry shuddered at the thought of the last time he had been through those doors. The last time he had inadvertently given Voldemort the key to destroying the Order.
They had to do something, and quickly. There were five Aurors, plus Crouch and Bellatrix, against Harry and Sirius. The situation was almost hopeless. Suddenly a door opened behind them, revealing a man in blue overalls who looked like a cleaner. His shock was as apparent as the Aurors', but it was enough. Harry reacted instantly as the Aurors turned. He grabbed two of them by their wand arms, forcing them into each other's rib cages.
STUPEFY!
In a flash of red sparks, both the Aurors fell to the ground, unconscious. Crouch and Bellatrix turned back to face them, realising their mistake. Sirius had already disarmed one Auror and broken another's nose. Harry grabbed his wand, diving onto the floor to avoid the incoming curses as he did. Sliding on his belly, Harry took aim at the last Auror and sent a Stunner his way. The spell missed. Harry jumped up onto his feet again, just as Bellatrix sent a purple curse towards him.
Sanctius!
The turquoise shield appeared at the tip of his wand, not more than a foot in diameter. Harry held it like an umbrella against the spell. It collided with the shield, ricocheting off, back towards Bellatrix. The Death Eater ducked, but the Auror behind her was not so quick on his feet. The man fell to the ground, screaming in agony, and judging from the blood pouring out of his mouth, bleeding internally.
As Harry watched, Crouch was launched off his feet by Sirius' spell and slammed into the wall, dropping like a rag-doll to the floor. With a scream of fury, Bellatrix sent a Killing Curse towards her cousin. Sirius ducked just in time as the curse shot over his head. Bellatrix recoiled, raising her wand above her head again. Sirius was lying on the floor, helpless as her wand began to descend. In a second Harry was at her side, his fingers locked around her wrist, forcing it upwards towards the ceiling. It rained plaster and debris as the spell blew apart the ceiling. There was a scream and Bellatrix's arm went limp in Harry's hand as she fell to the floor, having been knocked unconscious by a piece of falling debris.
Sirius climbed back to his feet while Bellatrix lay at Harry's feet, breathing but unconscious, blood seeping from the wound on her head, gluing her hair together like dreads. She seemed so pathetic.
"I could do it," said Harry suddenly, staring at her vacant face. She had killed Sirius, nearly killed Harry several times, had tortured Neville's parents and God only knew how many others. If anyone deserved to die, it was her. Harry felt his hand reach for a piece of rock. One moment's courage and it was done. She was defenceless. How many lives would be saved if he brought the rock down on her head? The world would be a better place and Sirius would be avenged.
"Harry," said the very man Harry had been thinking of. "She's not worth it."
"She'll kill again," said Harry, thinking of the families whose lives she had ruined. "We know she will."
"And she'll face justice one day," said Sirius, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Remember what you told me at the farm? Justice and vengeance are not the same thing. The world cannot work if everything is an eye for an eye. Your words."
Harry stared at the seemingly lifeless face before him. All he had to do was lift the rock; gravity alone would do the rest. It was so simple, but it was murder, plain and simple.
Suddenly Harry heard footsteps coming along the corridor. Glancing up, he saw several figures in black robes round the corner. "Aurors!" announced Sirius. "Quick - in here." Harry glared one last time at Bellatrix before rushing past Sirius through a door as Sirius conjured a cloud of smoke from his wand.
As Harry passed through the door, he realised exactly where he was. The familiar room with many doors began to turn as Sirius closed the door. It spun for a moment and then remained still. The horrors of his last visit surfaced, flooding his mind with images.
"Which one?" asked Harry.
"Any one," said Sirius, marching towards one on the left. He pushed the door open and disappeared through it. Harry followed, freezing in horror at what he saw. Standing on a stage on the far side of the room stool an archway, covered by a veil, which seemed to float in the wind. Harry stood transfixed by it as memories penetrated his mind's eyes. He could see Sirius falling; he could see his death.
"Sirius, NO!" shouted Harry as Sirius headed across the room towards the veil. "Keep away!"
BANG!
The door on the balcony above them burst open and the stamping of feet announced the arrival of more Aurors. Two jumped down from the raised area, landing in front of Sirius. Harry grabbed one from behind, pulling him back over his leg while stabbing his wand into the back of the other and releasing a Stunner point blank. Harry quickly brought the wand up to the neck of the other Auror, Stunning him as well.
Releasing the body, Harry turned to find another target. Sirius was duelling with another two on the far side of the room. Suddenly, there was a scream from above as Bellatrix came running down the stairs, a jet of green light escaping her wand. Sirius summoned one of his attackers into the path of the curse, then launched the body at his descending cousin.
Harry stepped closer to Sirius to back him up, when he found his path blocked by another Auror. Harry jumped back to escape the hammer of a fist that was swung at his face, withdrawing his Stun-Baton as he did so.
Stupefy!
The rod burst into life, emitting a healthy scarlet light. The Auror ignited his own and lunged at Harry. Harry slipped to the side, swinging the baton down in a sweeping movement into the backs of the man's legs. He swept his feet out from under the Death Eater and then, as the body fell backwards, brought the baton crashing down on his chest to make sure he stayed down.
"Come on," shouted a voice behind him. Harry turned in horror. "Surely you can do better." Sirius stood up on the stage, only a metre in front of the veil. He ducked the curse Bellatrix had sent at him, a big grin on his face. It was like D'j' vu; Harry watched as the red curse left Bellatrix's wand and zoomed towards its target. The curse struck Sirius in the chest, sending his body sailing backwards. It seemed to happen in slow motion. The curse struck. Sirius' face turned from a mad grin to shock and surprise as he sailed gracefully backwards, descending towards the veil.
"NO!" screamed Harry, running forward.
Once was enough.
Accio Sirius!
His body stopped in midair, his head inches from the veil. Sirius hung suspended for a moment before zooming over towards Harry. He stepped aside so Sirius wouldn't land on him before sending a Stunner at the startled Bellatrix, who had no time to block it. For the second time that night, she fell to the floor, unconscious.
Sirius let out a groan as he climbed to his feet. He seemed a little shaken but all right.
"My arm," he groaned. Clearly, Harry had been wrong. Sirius's arm was hanging at an unnatural angle. "It's dislocated," said Sirius, clearly in a lot of pain.
"I don't know what to…" began Harry.
"I do," said Sirius. "Take my arm and on the count of three, pull as hard as you can; I'll do the rest." Harry felt his stomach tighten as he took Sirius' arm. Harry had never liked cracking fingers, let alone relocating someone's arm. Sirius's arm was like jelly; it moved so unnaturally. Harry held it firmly and prepared himself, trying not to think about what he was doing.
"One," said Sirius. "…two…three!" Harry pulled the arm as hard as he could while Sirius twisted; there was a sickening crack and Harry felt the arm pop back into place. He felt a little bit of sick rising in his throat as Sirius' bones creaked. Harry shook his head, trying to put the thought aside, and took a deep breath of air.
Sirius stood rubbing his shoulder for a few seconds, clearly in discomfort. "Let's go," he said. "We're blown, let's just get out of here and live to fight another day." Harry nodded; there was no point trying anything new. It was all gone tits-up, and their only choice was to abort.
"Ahhh!" hissed Sirius. He rolled up his sleeve to where Bellatrix's curse had hit. His shoulder was now one large bruise, a nasty shade of blue. This wasn't normal. He was bleeding internally, thanks to Bellatrix's spell. They had to get out!
"FREEZE!"
Harry spun around to see a line of at least ten Black Watch Aurors blocking the exit, their wands aimed at Harry and Sirius. They were trapped again and this time there was no escape.
Suddenly there was a clink as a small metal cylinder the size of a Coke can sailed through the door and landed at their feet. A thick purple cloud of smoke gushed out of the cylinder as it hit the floor.
CLINK!
Another metallic cylinder rolled through the door, leaving a trail of purple smoke as it rolled towards the Aurors. Harry and Sirius moved instantly, diving into cover; Sirius beneath the stairs and Harry behind a desk. He peered around the corner of the desk, trying to find a target to aim at. As Harry watched, the Aurors began to cough and splutter, and then slowly, one by one, fell to the ground. It must be some form of sleeping gas.
Quickly, Harry applied the Bubble-Head charm to himself, just in case; he kept his wand trained on the door as a figure walked slowly into the room, emerging like a ghost through the fog. She was tall, with flowing brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was pretty, with pale white skin and ruby red lips, and dressed in the scarlet robes of an Auror. Around her head was the familiar fishbowl of the Bubble-Head charm.
"Rachel?" said Sirius, rising from his hiding place. "What are you doing here?"
"I followed them," said the Auror called Rachel, stepping over the fallen bodies. "I'm well aware of who Crouch really is, so I keep an eye on Black Watch communication. My job does have one or two advantages."
"Who's this"? asked Harry, rising to his feet, but keeping his wand aimed at the woman.
"Harry Potter," said Sirius. "This is Rachel Shepherd, one of the old crowd of Aurors. After an accident a few years back she's been confined to a desk and now handles communications. Looks like she's been tapping Black Watch channels for some time."
"Bingo," said Rachel. "And you're the Dark Knight," she said, staring at Harry. "I've spent many hours hunting you over the years, and now here you stand as our only hope. I assume it is true that you two are all that's left of the mysterious Order of the Phoenix?" Harry picked up a condescending element to her voice when she referred to the Order. Was she mocking its failure? Harry decided that he didn't like the woman.
"Correct," said Sirius. Harry was going to add that Frank was also still loyal, apparently, but he didn't fully trust this woman yet.
"Well let's go," said Rachel, heading towards a bookcase behind Sirius. "There is a whole battalion heading down here, so I suggest you leave at the earliest opportunity." What the hell was she doing grabbing a book at a time like this? Surely the Black Watch wouldn't believe she had been down here reading while all this was going on. Apparently Sirius had been thinking the same.
"What are you doing?" asked Sirius, as Rachel began to browse the bookcase.
"My Aunt was an Unspeakable," said Rachel. "And this was how I used to smuggle myself in to see her." She grabbed a book and pulled. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the entire bookshelf swung away from the wall, revealing a long, dark passage. "It slopes upwards," said Rachel. "At the end is a manhole cover. You'll come out on the surface, just watch out for cars."
"What about you?" asked Sirius. Was Harry imagining it, or was there an attraction there? Anyhow, it was beside the point. He was grateful to the woman; he had reconsidered his opinion of her. She pulled a small pocket mirror out of her pocket, along with her wand.
"I have a Portkey to the little girl's room," said Rachel. "No one will question me." With that she tapped the mirror with her wand and was gone with a pop. The sound of footsteps was coming from the corridor ' Aurors were coming. There was no time to talk. Harry and Sirius ducked into the passage and began their ascent.
XXXXX
MINISTER OF MAGIC SURVIVES ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT
In the early hours of this morning, armed intruders broke into the Ministry of Magic in an attempt to kill the Minister of Magic, Bartemius Crouch Junior. While the Minister escaped unharmed, several Black Watch Aurors are said to be in critical condition after the attack. The assailants have been identified as Harry Potter and former Auror Sirius Black, both members of the terrorist network the Order of the Phoenix.
Potter and Black broke into the Ministry of Magic shortly after three a.m. last night. It has not been confirmed how they were able to do this, but it is suspected that very Dark magic was involved to circumvent the wards. The objective of the Order of the Phoenix was to assassinate the Minister of Magic, and they very nearly succeeded.
"I would like to thank the Black Watch for their swift intervention," said Crouch in a press conference this morning. "Were it not for their rapid action, I would not be here addressing you today. I confess I am saddened that there are still people out there who would do a thing like this, but I can promise you that they will never succeed. They tried to scare me - instead they have strengthened my resolve. As of today, the Black Watch now have more rights to arrest, hold and interrogate anyone they deem to be a threat to national security. The last of this Order of the Phoenix will be captured and made to answer for crimes against humanity. I, we, will not let them dirty our perfect society!"
"Jesus Christ," muttered Harry. The Black Watch had been given a carte blanche. Those people McGonagall had talked about were only the beginning. They would arrest anyone who opened their mouths now. He rose from his seat and walked into the bedroom of Aunt Marge's farm. Sirius was lying on his back, apparently asleep. He was not wearing a top and Harry could see the full horror of his arm. It had been freshly bandaged this morning, but a red blob was already visible through it and the area around it was a violent purple in colour. Sirius had beads of sweat all over his face. Harry could see lines of purple extending beyond the bandage down his right tricep. Whatever curse Bellatrix had used had done more damage than they had first thought. Harry shook his head. They needed a miracle. He needed to get Madam Pomfrey here ASAP to look at Sirius. He also needed more help and more information. It was time to call in a favour.
Harry took out his Frog-Card. "Frank Longbottom."
"Yes," came an irritated voice after a few seconds.
"Frank," said Harry. "I take it you know?"
"Of course." Harry was about to ask why he had not shared the information sooner, but he didn't want to anger the man further.
"We need a little help, Frank," said Harry. There was a pause, probably as Frank enjoyed hearing Harry say that.
"What do you need?"
"Here is what I want you to do…"
XXXXX
The next morning, on December twenty first, Frank Longbottom appeared in the Ministry of Magic's entrance hall. He walked away from the entrance point towards the security checks. He walked straight through, people clearing a path for him as he went. The advantage of this disguise was that everyone feared the Black Watch so much that he could get anything he wanted. Frank noted the added security as he passed. The main entrance now had five guards, not two, along with the wizard who checked wands in and out.
He walked into the Ministry and along the corridor. He encountered two Black Watch patrols, each consisting of two men, on his way to the lift. He nodded to both of them, though he had no idea who they were ' veils covered all four men's faces. He entered the lift and went down one floor. The next floor was much the same story. There were patrols everywhere. And the workers seemed terrified of the Black Watch.
"As you wish," hissed a familiar voice suddenly. Lucius Malfoy was coming along the corridor with the Minister himself. Crouch seemed to be giving orders. Frank had watched Lucius Malfoy before and knew him well enough to know that taking orders from another Death Eater and not Voldemort himself would really be tugging on the short and curlies. Frank smirked behind his veil, thankful that they could not see who it he was.
"How is our new Healer getting on?" Crouch asked Malfoy as Frank fell into step two feet behind them.
"Well enough," replied Lucius. Frank could hear the bitterness in his voice, and suppressed another smile. "All Muggleborn witches and Squibs will be invited in for a test and made sterile." Frank managed to stop himself from gasping out loud. They could not be serious! That was genocide. Well, they were into genocide before this, but the occasional attack seemed so timid compared to this. This was the systematic extermination of an entire race, carried out with medical precision. Frank felt a bit queasy for a second at the idea. He should have suspected something like this, or perhaps imagined it in his worst nightmares, but to hear it said out loud was horrifying. And their voices: they found it funny, were excited by it. What kind of sick monsters were these people? Lucius was far from finished. "He estimates that if he begins on New Year's Day," continued Malfoy. , "He can have fifty percent of the Mudblood witches infertile by the end of January and total sterility by the end of March."
"After that, the Boss has ordered him to work with the Archive," said Crouch. "They are to go through the marriage records. Anyone who has married a Muggle is to be made sterile." Merlin, thought Frank. They had covered every eventuality, rooting out everyone related to a Muggle. They were ruthlessly efficient, and the death toll would be catastrophic. Frank was sickened by their lack of caring, even more than their actions.
"It will be done," said Lucius, nodding. "But what becomes of the Mudblood men? Infertility amongst women can be passed off as unexplained infertility, but if we start castrating men, it will be noticed." It looked like they hadn't thought of everything. Then again, they had gotten away with the Hogwarts Uprising through the use of fear and the media. Could they get away with it again?
"The Dark Lord already has a plan," announced Crouch smugly, rubbing Lucius' nose in the fact that he hadn't been told. "You are to begin transferring men to the new Commandos Department."
"The what department?"
"Commandos," said Crouch. "Our new army of Muggleborns. Camouflage robes will be arriving tonight or tomorrow. Draft all impure men into this army and find an Auror to give them basic training - well, enough to fight - to serve a purpose before death." Frank felt shivers run up and down his spine as they spoke. They would use the Muggleborns to fight a war. This meant that the Purebloods didn't have to fight, and that the rest would be killed.
"Is that not risky?" asked Lucius. "And it does not provide a final solution."
"It will," said Crouch, waving him aside. "War is on the horizon. They will be the first attack. Heavy losses are expected."
Frank realised that his fists were clenched and he was sweating. They would round up the Half Bloods and Muggleborns, marching the men to their deaths and sterilising the women. They had already kicked the Muggleborns out of Hogwarts. Soon all but the Purebloods will be eliminated. Frank felt faint.
He paused for a second, before continuing after Crouch. He was the man with the knowledge. Crouch entered the lift with Frank right behind him. Crouch gave him a small nod as he entered the lift, which he returned as Crouch pressed the button marked Auror Complex. The whole lift Apparated to the Auror Complex, opening like a normal lift. It could be called by the Aurors, giving them the ability to move from the Complex to the Ministry far more quickly than running outside the Apparation wards and then running back in at the other end.
Frank followed Crouch out of the lift and into the Auror complex. He gasped as the doors opened. It was a sea of black, with only a few specks of scarlet. The Black Watch were everywhere. With their hoods down, Frank recognised a few faces. Some of his old colleagues were there; some, who had left, presumably to join the Death Eaters, had returned. Frank slipped away into the crowd, walking amongst old friends and older enemies. As he passed James Potter's desk, he found that the name had been changed to Rabastan Lestrange ' Taskforce Chief. Frank asked the nearest Auror about the name change. Apparently, Lestrange was now in charge of a taskforce that was still looking for the last remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, not that he knew that one of the final three active members was standing right behind him.
Looking around, he saw many other suspected Death Eaters. Those who were proper Aurors were still wearing red, though they seemed confined to their desks. Those in red sat working, while those in black roamed around freely.
"Where do you think you're going?" growled a voice to Frank's right. The Auror turned, and was relieved to find that it had not been him who had been shouted at. Lionel Crane, an old colleague, who still wore red, had got up from his desk, and a figure in Black had challenged him. So the Black Watch had the Aurors under house arrest? That made things harder.
"To get myself some tea," he replied impatiently to the Auror who had challenged him. The Auror hesitated and then stepped aside. Even the law enforcers here were under the grip of fear. As the Black Watch numbers increased, there would soon be no loyal Aurors left to oppose them.
Frank moved through the main floor and up the stairs to the training facility. As he walked though, he saw more old comrades wearing black, rather than red. They were being trained by new masters, and these lessons would never have been taught in Mad-Eye's day. There was a line of ten Aurors, facing dummies thirty feet away. On the call from the instructor, the ten stepped forward and fired the worst of the Unforgivables.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" shouted ten voices at once. Ten bolts of green light shot out of their wands, and ten dummies were blasted to pieces. Frank grimaced behind his veil. These Aurors were being trained to kill; this was an army, not a police force. This was preparation for an invasion. Frank's mind was suddenly full of images of Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley and Hogwarts, with the Black Watch patrolling the streets, people scared to come out of their homes. He could imagine the Black Watch marching into Diagon Alley and firing randomly into the crowd; they had done it in Hogsmeade during Potter's protest. What was stopping them from continuing? Fear would keep the population in line until they became accustomed to the change. With the new procedures to sterilise witches, all but the Pureblood elite would fade away. Frank hated to think what they would do to Muggle children who showed signs of magic. Would they leave them? Watch them? Kill them? With Voldemort in charge nothing seemed too extreme.
Frank turned back and headed down to the main floor, passing through the interrogation rooms as he did. As he passed he glanced into one, pausing as he saw an Auror in red being interrogated by two Black Watch Aurors. Frank watched through the one-way glass. To his horror, he realised that this was not an interrogation, but an interview. Frank watched for a few minutes. The questions ranged from the purity of his blood to the lengths he was willing to go to in order to ensure a conviction. As Frank watched, he began to wonder just how this man had gotten into the Aurors. He was a spiteful little git.
Frank walked back to the main floor and looked around. He was looking for a specific Auror, one he couldn't see amongst the sea of black and red. With the true Aurors confined to their desks and the Black Watch everywhere, it was hard to talk to someone in private. He headed over to where his quarry should be. He had gone about half way when a shout rang out over the room.
"CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE," shouted Crouch, his voice magically magnified. "INTERVIEWS FOR THE BLACK WATCH WILL CONTINUE THROUGHOUT THE REST OF THE WEEK. PLEASE SEE WALDEN MACNAIR FOR AN INTERVIEW TIME. EVERY AUROR IS TO COLLECT A SET OF BLACK WATCH ROBES AND BE IN COURTROOM TEN AT MIDDAY TOMORROW FOR A FULL DRESS REHEARSAL. YOU WILL FIND OUT WHAT FOR WHEN YOU ARE THERE. UNTIL YOU HAVE PASSED AN INTERVIEW, YOU ARE REQUIRED TO WEAR A RED BAND ON YOUR ARM, SIGNIFYING THAT YOU HAVE NOT YET JOINED THE BLACK WATCH. AGAIN, SEE MACNAIR TO SORT OUT AN INTERVIEW TIME."
Frank glanced quickly around at the others. Some were beginning to move towards Macnair's desk, while others went straight back to work.
As Frank made his way between the stations, he spotted who he was looking for. Rachel Shepherd, once a fine Auror but now confined to her desk after an injury to her knee left her unsuitable for fieldwork, was sitting at a desk, making notes on parchment. Frank wondered why she had not been allowed to return to active duty; she didn't even limp anymore. It was probably one of Mad-Eye's calls. Frank knew that she was on their side; she had proved that last night. His first task from Potter - not that he considered Potter to be his boss - was to deliver a Frog-Card to her. He pulled out his own card and, snatching up a quill, scrawled a few words on the back of it.
Satisfied, Frank slowly made his way over to her, checking that no senior members of the Black Watch were close enough to hear. She glanced up as she saw him approach, a glare pasted on her face. She was clearly no fan of the Black Watch. The question was, would she trust him or not?
"What?" she sneered as he stood over her. Frank smirked behind his veil. Temperamental, wasn't she?
Frank didn't waste time; he knelt by her desk and parted his veil so she could see who it was. Her expression didn't change as she beheld his face. Frank realised that to her, it looked like he had betrayed her, rather than was in disguise.
"What do you know about Harry Potter?" he whispered.
"Apparently he's running the Order of the Phoenix now," replied Shepherd impatiently, reciting what she had been told by Crouch. "It's all in the Prophet. Lestrange is in charge of the taskforce looking for the boy. It's him you need to talk to. Now, if you'll excuse me." Frank smiled; she was clever and was giving nothing away. Frank could easily be a spy, especially with the uniform; Crouch was most likely looking for informants. This could be interpreted as a test of loyalty.
"Did you know it was he last night that broke in to kidnap Crouch?" asked Frank, his voice a whisper. He paused to let a member of the Black Watch pass before he continued. "He and Sirius Black."
"I didn't," said Rachel, not giving away anything. She was eyeing him appraisingly and he glanced each way to make sure it was safe to talk.
"They wanted to remove Crouch and use him to find Dumbledore," whispered Frank. "They were cornered, but somehow they got out of a sealed room. How do you expect they managed that?" Frank was impressed that she didn't even flinch as he accused her of treason. She continued to eye him coldly.
"In the old days Harry Potter got into places more heavily guarded than this," she said calmly. It was true, but it was irritating as this conversation was lasting far longer than it should have. He had to end it now, bollocks to subtlety.
"True," conceded Frank. "But we both know that's bollocks. You showed him the bookcase. If you want to help again, take this." Her eyes grew wide at the mention of the bookcase.
He stood up, dropped the Frog-Card on her desk and walked away. He made his way quickly over to the Recreational Room. It was essentially a staff-room for the Aurors when on their breaks - if they ever got them these days. It contained a small kitchen with a kettle and enough to make a snack if needed. It also contained a few armchairs. Luckily it was deserted at this time. He lit a fire on the stove with his wand and put the kettle above it. He needed a cuppa. Frank added the milk and teabag to a cup and poured in the boiling water. The advantage of magic was that the kettle boiled almost immediately. After a few seconds, the door opened and Rachel Shepherd swept into the Rec-Room, showing no signs of a limp. Frank opened his mouth to speak, but then he stopped sharply as she placed a finger over his lips. He glared at her for cutting him off. He knew they were alone, so what was she complaining about? Didn't she trust him? Women were all so paranoid. She mouthed the words 'shut up' to him, so he bit back his response.
"Fancy a cigarette?" she asked, her voice inappropriately pleasant. She seemed to be acting, but for whose benefit?
"Thanks, I don't," said Frank, waving her aside. Rachel gave him an exasperated look and suddenly he realised that she wanted to get him out of the building. They couldn't smoke in the building, so anyone who wanted a cigarette had to go to "Smoker's Corner" - an area outside the complex and away from the front entrance. She wanted to move this conversation outside the building and he had missed the signs. Frank could have kicked himself for being so slow. Quickly, he thought up a solution. "Got my tea, though."
Rachel gave him a look that all too clearly said 'finally' and then gestured for him to follow her. "How about a breath of fresh air?" asked Rachel, heading towards the door. She led him out of the Rec-Room, around the edge of the main floor and out of the Auror Complex holding open both sets of glass doors for him to pass. The two sets of glass doors were separated by an area of floor tiled in the pattern of the emblem of the Aurors. They emerged into a grassy area that was essentially a small garden. There was an area of flat grass that stretched out from the walls for about twenty metres on all sides of the building. Beyond that was a dry-stone wall topped with a line of thick bushes that housed Muggle Repelling Charms. The bushes had no leaves, given that it was the depth of winter. They looked almost dead, which was ever so fitting with the atmosphere inside the Complex. Beyond the hedge, grassy hills were covered with bracken and gorse that moved in the breeze and dotted with sheep. Frank wasn't sure, but he was fairly sure they were in the Brecon Beacons in Wales.
Rachel didn't stop at the entrance; she turned right and headed to the corner of the building some fifty metres away and once there turned the corner.
A look of disgust passed over Frank's face as the smell of stale tobacco filled his nostrils. The ground was littered with cigarette butts and packets. Frank had no idea that so many Aurors smoked. Luckily for them, it was deserted at the moment.
"Since when have you started?" asked Frank, gesturing to the packet of cigarettes in Rachel's hand.
"I don't smoke," said Rachel. "I think they're vile, but I stole them so I had an excuse to talk to you outside. Crouch installed a lot of listening devices in the Complex. He suspects there is someone on the inside helping what's left of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix." In hindsight it was perfectly obvious that Crouch would have listening devices all over the Complex. Not all Aurors were part of the Black Watch. There was goodness left in the Aurors, one just had to look hard to find it.
"Having something stolen from within the Auror Complex," smirked Frank, eyeing the cigarettes. "How ironic. Better keep up the pretence."
Rachel shook her head before taking one out and lighting it with her wand. She held it in her hand, but made no move to smoke it.
"I hate these bloody things," she groaned. "If you are stressed or need a release, go to the gym, go for a run, listen to some music, eat something, just don't resort to this kind of stuff. Clearly a smoker's mind is so weak they can't think of anything better and need a drug, and then they can't quit, which only demonstrates a feeble mind. And it doesn't look good; they ruin photographs. Honestly, nothing is more unattractive than a cigarette. Tasting it on a man's breath, yuck."
"Fascinating," said Frank dryly, wondering how they had gotten so far from the point.
"Okay," said Rachel, seeing Frank's frustration. "So what do you want, and what's with the card?" She held up the card he had given her.
"Are you willing to help us?" asked Frank, watching for a reaction. He didn't want to give any more away before he knew she was on board.
"Us being…?" asked Rachel.
"We both know who I mean," said Frank. "You met them last night."
"Come on, Frank," said Rachel. "I get a note saying 'kitchen, two minutes, don't be seen' and you expect me to trust you?"
"Rachel, we don't have a lot of time," said Frank, cutting her off. "Here is the situation. Last night Potter and Black, the last of the Order of the Phoenix, except for me, tried to kidnap Crouch. They need to find Dumbledore. It's gone so far that only a full-scale attack can bring the country back to the light."
"I know all this," said Rachel impatiently.
"What you don't know is that Crouch is planning genocide," said Frank. "I just heard Crouch and Malfoy talking. They can make every Muggleborn witch infertile within six months, and I think we both know who is giving Crouch his orders. They are planning an all-out war with the Muggles, and they are going to march all Muggleborn men to their deaths. They're recruiting an army now. There are no political routes left to fight him, but the Order of the Phoenix is not dead, though it is very weak. We need help and information."
"What are you planning?" asked Rachel.
"We don't know yet. I am here to see if you are willing to help us, and to find out what is going on, and where Dumbledore is."
"I have no idea about Dumbledore," said Rachel. "It was reported that he had been sent to Azkaban, and that is what Macnair and Crouch are saying, but I don't have the paperwork needed to transfer a prisoner to Azkaban. He is not in their records. Wherever he is, he isn't there."
"So he's disappeared off the face of the earth," muttered Frank. There followed a tense silence.
"Do you really think you can make a difference?" asked Rachel. "His power is felt everywhere."
"We have to try," said Frank. "But we can't do it without you, Rachel."
"So it all comes dow…" suddenly her eyes went wide. She threw down the cigarette and pushed Frank hard in the chest. His back hit the wall of the Complex, causing him to grunt in pain. Had she tricked him? Was this a trap? He reached for his wand, but before he could reach it he felt something press against him and something warm, wet and soft press gently against his lips.
"Wh…" he tried to say. He suddenly realised that Rachel had literally thrown herself at him, pinning him to the wall and kissing him. He broke the kiss and tried to ask why, but she cut him off.
"Shut up!" she hissed and planted her lips back on his, just in time. A second later two figures in red came around the corner. There was a sharp intake of breath as they saw what was happening. Neither of them were stupid enough to interrupt a member of the Black Watch in this situation. Frank's uniform had its advantages. The two Aurors turned and quickly made their way back to the Complex.
Rachel pulled away and peered around the corner.
"They're gone," she whispered as she turned back to face them. "Sorry, Frank," she added.
"For what?" he asked, seeing no reason to apologise.
"You still wear the ring," said Rachel, nodding to his hand. "I shouldn't have done that."
"It's fine," muttered Frank, turning the wedding ring on his finger. It had been a year since she had been killed yet he still wore the ring as a constant reminder of what he had lost. In truth he hadn't thought of Alice when Rachel kissed him, and it was that more than anything else that worried Frank.
"Anyway, as I was saying," said Rachel slowly, "If we are caught the Black Watch will execute us without a trial."
"If we don't do anything," said Frank, "the Black Watch will hunt us down and execute us one by one, not to mention draw the entire country into a war that will kill thousands. Doing nothing gets us time, but weeks only. In the end, we have to fight and delaying only allows them to fortify their positions."
"You're right," said Rachel. "Something must be done. I can try and find out where Dumbledore is, and I assume that's also where they are holding Shacklebolt, Dawlish, Moody, and the others who disappeared." Frank breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank you," said Frank. "We also need weapons if you can get them. Call me on the Frog-Card when you have it."
"Call you?"
"Say my name into the card," said Frank. "If I don't answer, assume the worst and contact Sirius or Potter. They can help you, and if you need an Emergency evac, call Potter and he will be there in quite literally a flash."
"One more thing," said Rachel as she turned to leave. "When the time comes, I know what Mad-Eye says, but I can fight. I can do my job."
"Okay," said Frank, nodding. He threw his tea over the trunk of a tree, vanished the cup and with a final thank you to Rachel Disapparated.
XXXXX
Rachel Shepherd walked back onto the main floor of the Auror Complex. The smell of paint and solvents was still in the air, but the workmen had gone. The building seemed to be complete now. She walked along the central aisle to the end, turned left, stopping at her workstation, and sat back down. Following the upgrading of status of the Black Watch two days ago, she was no longer handling reception and communication, as it gave her too much power. That wasn't the excuse they gave, but she could read between the lines. They didn't want her listening in on their secret conversations. Instead, she had been given a desk and was working as a proper Auror again, except that she was not allowed in the field, and she was being watched by the Black Watch.
She glanced over at Macnair. How was she going to get him alone, and how could she extract the information from him? He used to be an executioner and now he was in charge of the Black Watch. Not much of a change, then. Rachel stood and walked out of the main floor, and into one of the corridors. Checking that she was alone, she slipped into the armoury. Around her were rows of stun-batons, dragon scale armoured vests, Strike Team uniforms, Magical Incendiary Devices, spare wands and an assortment of other weapons. Rachel took a bag from one shelf and into it she placed ten Stun-Batons, ten Dragon-Scale Flak Jackets, three MIDs and a handful of wands. She then moved to the potions cabinet at the end of the room and slipped a bottle of Veritaserum into her pocket. Finally, Rachel placed three Magical Incendiary Devices around the armoury and armed them, set on a timer. That should put a pretty little dent in the response time.
She then slipped out of the Armoury and back into the corridor. She quickly made her way up the stairs at the end of the corridor and into the Medical Centre. There were no Healers around, so Rachel snuck in and hid the bag of weapons in one of the cupboards. Job done, she made her way back down to the main floor. Her heart was pounding', in her chest. Enemies were literally all around her. A million things could still go wrong. What if she got caught? They would bypass Azkaban and go straight for the death penalty. Yet, in all honesty, part of her was thrilled. The adrenaline pumped through her system. She was a spy, a real Auror again, fighting the good fight.
She tried to put the thoughts out of her mind and took a deep breath. Macnair's desk was on in the corner of the room, just at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the interrogation rooms. Rachel watched Macnair for a few seconds before making her way over to him.
"Walden," she said politely as she neared. "Are there any times available for interviews today?"
"Your medical report says you are unfit for duty," said Macnair coldly, not even looking up at her.
"Mad-Eye said I was unfit for duty," said Rachel. This was in fact true, and highly hypocritical. Her knee wasn't fully recovered, but his knee had been cut off years ago. What right did he have to tell her she was unfit for active duty? "But he's gone now, hasn't he, and good riddance. We all know how paranoid he was. Come on, Walden, please."
"What about your knee?" asked Macnair. She bit back a retort, putting the mission before her pride.
"I can walk, run and fight," protested Rachel. "Put me through a physical first if you don't believe me. Come on. I could run rings around half the new boys that have been brought in. This isn't because I'm a woman, is it?" The sexist card worked most times, but its results were unpredictable with sociopaths.
"Miss Shepherd," said Macnair impatiently. "My job is to assemble an elite force to uphold the law. I can't have anyone on my team who doesn't meet the standard - the same standard."
"What if you put me through a physical, and I have to achieve the same targets as the men to pass?" asked Rachel. She could bluff him all she wanted, as she knew she would never have to take the test. To be honest, she would like to and believed she actually could, but now was not the time. If Voldemort was defeated and things went back to normal, she hoped she would be returned to active duty.
"Fine," said Macnair irritably. "I'll stick you in and we'll put an end to this fantasy. Come on now, I'll do your interview myself and then, assuming I pass you, you will be subject for the physical tomorrow, agreed?"
"Agreed," said Rachel. Macnair rose from his seat and marched up the stairs. He didn't look happy, by Rachel couldn't care less. She followed him up the stairs and into the interrogation room.
"So what is this rehearsal for?" she asked. It was to settle her own curiosity as much as gathering information for the Order of the Phoenix, of which it would seem she was now a member.
"You'll find out soon enough." Macnair marched straight in, the light coming on automatically as he did. He marched to the far end of the room and began to activate the recording orb. Rachel glanced each way down the corridor to make sure they were alone before making her move. She left the door open and ran at Macnair. Approaching from behind, she grabbed him around the neck in a sleeper hold. Macnair grunted in surprise as her forearm pressed into his neck, and then again when she drove her knee into the back of his leg. She grabbed a handful of his greasy hair, and pulled it sharply back before ramming his head into the brick wall. There was a loud thud as his skull hit the concrete wall. Rachel didn't release his head; instead she pulled it back and again thrust it into the wall.
Macnair's unconscious body crashed to the floor like a sack of potatoes as she released him, smashing the recording orb as he fell. Satisfied that no one was coming, Rachel acted quickly, kneeling next to him and rolling him onto his front. She ripped the arms of his robes off him, tying one sleeve around his eyes to blind him, and then the other around his wrists. Removing the Veritaserum from her pocket, Rachel dropped three drops onto his tongue and forced his mouth shut, stroking his throat in order to trigger his swallowing reflex. She waited a few seconds for the potion to take affect before reviving him with the Enervation charm.
"What is your name?" asked Rachel, glancing around to make sure no one was coming. She had to hurry. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she worked.
"Walden Macnair," replied the Death Eater, his voice vacant and dreamy.
"Can you see me?"
"No."
"Where are the Order of the Phoenix being held?" asked Rachel.
"Lundy Island," said Macnair without hesitation.
"Where on the island?" asked Rachel, not knowing the size or layout of the island.
"On the north end, in an old underground radar station from the second world war," said Macnair. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, having gotten what she needed. She glanced towards the door again, making sure she was alone, and then pulled out her wand.
"Obliviate!" With that, she slammed his head back into the floor, sending him crashing back into unconsciousness. She stood up and walked over to the steel table against wall, taking a deep breath and bracing herself for the pain. Tensed her muscles, psyching herself up to do something very stupid, but very necessary, she stood by the table that had once held the recording orb. Ready, she leaned forward and head-butted the end of the table as hard as she could.
She managed not to cry out in pain. She could feel warm blood oozing out of her forehead and over her eyebrow. The table was metallic and shiny enough for her to see that she had cut herself. She was glad she had, otherwise she would have had to do it again. Blood flowed around her eye-socket and down her face.
Satisfied, she pressed the alarm button on the wall outside. Instantly, red lights appeared on the ceiling and a siren went off. Rachel had to cover her ears as the wailing surrounded her. There was a tremor of feet as a dozen Black Watch Aurors appeared all around them. Rachel leaned against the wall, looking vague and keeping one hand over her eye. Blood was starting to seep through her fingers.
"What happened?" asked Ludo Bagman, removing his veil. Rachel had had no idea he was in the Black Watch / Death Eaters, but she didn't let her surprise show. She spoke, making sure her voice wobbled and she had an appropriately vacant look on her face.
"I don't know," said Rachel, making her voice little more than a whisper. She was acting as though she was disorientated. "We were attacked."
"Who did this? Did you see him?"
"I didn't see anything," she said. "They came at me from behind. I think they were wearing an invisibility cloak. I didn't see anyone."
"Shut off all exits," ordered Bagman. "Get Shepherd and Macnair to the Medical Centre. The rest of you spread out, I want the intruder found." Rachel managed not to smile as the Aurors began to move.
The Aurors all disappeared in various directions, except for one, who led Rachel down to the Medical Centre. The Auror took her by the forearm and led her slowly down the steps. Rachel deliberately stumbled a few times en route to make it seem like she was really out of it. She checked her watch to see how long she had left. Not long, so she softened the act to make them walk quicker. When they reached the medical centre, Rachel climbed up on the bed and waited while the Auror fetched a Healer from the staff room. He returned a few moments later with a man dressed in the greens of a Healer. The Auror excused himself and waited outside, while the Healer went to the sink to wash his hands.
"Been in the wars, have we?" asked the Healer, making small talk. Rachel smirked. He had no idea.
BOOM!
The MIDs had gone off in the armoury, and most likely set the rest off as well. That would keep the Black Watch busy. The entire building shook under the force of the explosion. The glassware in the cabinets wobbled and in some cases broke under the vibrations.
"What on earth…" stammered the Healer. He turned back to Rachel, presumably to ask what was going on, but he never managed a word. Rachel raised her good leg, kicking him in the mouth. The healer fell over backwards, and she rolled off the bed. She grabbed his dropped wand and pointed it at his neck.
"Stupefy!" she whispered. There was a flash of red and the man went limp.
Rachel immediately went to the cupboard and pulled the bag of weapons out of the drawer. She pocketed the Healer's wand and put the bag over her shoulder. With that she slipped out of the room, wiping the blood from her face. The main floor was full of people. There was a fire coming from the direction of the armoury, and orange flames reflected off the walls.
Sure enough, after a few seconds, a second bell went off, announcing a fire. Sirens went off all around them, and the Aurors started making their way to the main entrance and out into the clearing. Smoke filled the room, which had erupted into pandemonium. Rachel waited for nearly two minutes while the Aurors left before ducking behind a workstation. She crept from one to the other, keeping very low. She reached the lift in under a minute and pressed the button for the main entrance.
She quickly got into the lift, which luckily was empty. Since the Auror Complex was now a different building, the fire alarm would not go off in the Ministry. The Black Watch should have returned to base if they believed they were under attack. Fire procedure was to exit via the main door and not to use the lift for fear of the flames entering the lift and then the main Ministry building; however, Rachel wasn't in the mood to obey.
Rachel stepped out of the lift and after showing her ID to the guard, walked out to the Apparation Point. She smiled to herself before Disapparating. She reappeared in the bushes in a park near where she had grown up. She had to hurry. They may have detected her Apparation. It may take hours to work out it was her, but she couldn't risk that. She had to contact the Order. Immediately she pulled out the Frog-Card.
"Frank Longbottom," she said clearly, still doubtful the card would actually work. To her great relief, a second later, his face appeared in the card. These really were nifty little things.
"You get it?" asked Frank. Straight to business; he was about as friendly as a viper.
"Yes," said Rachel, still panting. "I can't go back, though. I managed to get the location and steal enough weapons and Veritaserum to last us, but my cover is blown."
"Good girl," said Frank. "Call the Knight Bus. Someone will be on it and will take you to safety." His face disappeared as suddenly as it had come. Rachel didn't entirely trust Frank, but she had no choice now. She transfigured her red Auror robes into a sky blue ensemble that didn't stand out too much. She held out her wand, and with a bang, the purple triple-decker arrived. She paid and took a seat, giving her destination as Diagon Alley.
Eyeing each of the other travellers carefully as she passed, Rachel took an armchair. Stan Shunpike allocated to her. Her bleeding face received some stares, as she had passed through the bottom deck on the way to the stairs. Luckily, she had been given a seat on the second deck, which was empty. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Adrenalin pumped through her veins. She felt exhilarated after the 'battle'; She hadn't felt like this since she had been on active duty. How she had missed it, forced to stay in the office doing paperwork. This was her chance to return to the old days and to stop the nightmare that was coming.
Suddenly there was a whoosh, and she felt a gust of heat on the back of her neck. Cautiously, she turned her head. Her eyes grew wide in terror. She had been betrayed. Sitting next to her was a Black Watch Auror. Her hand immediately flew to her wand. She pulled it out, but the Auror grabbed her wrist.
"Will you calm down?" he hissed, pulling down his hood. Rachel didn't know whether to be relieved or scared as she stared at the face of Harry Potter. The boy released her wrist and eyed the bag.
"Are those the weapons?"
"Yes," she replied. "And I got an address."
"Good," said Harry. He held out a hand. "Take my hand."
She cautiously reached out and took his hand. He edged closer, pulling her into a hug. She was quite startled by the boy suddenly being so close.
"Hold on," he whispered. "This may feel a little odd." Rachel yelped as she was engulfed in flame. Her stomach shot to her throat as she was transported over half the country. They reappeared in the lounge area of what looked like a cosy farmhouse. Glancing around, she noticed that it was also a Muggle house. This must be a stolen, or 'borrowed' house.
She noticed that she was not alone in the room. Frank Longbottom was sitting on one sofa, a glass of wine in his hand. Harry Potter had taken a seat in an armchair, and on the other sofa, half naked and with his arm heavily bandaged was Sirius Black. Poppy Pomfrey, who whom Rachel knew from having been sent to the Hospital Wing many times when she was at Hogwarts, was tending to Sirius's arm.
"Welcome to the Headquarters of the new Order of the Phoenix, Miss Shepherd," said Potter.
XXXXX
Weasley?
Weeeaasley?
"MISS WEASLEY! WILL YOU PAY ATTENTION!" boomed the gravelly voice of Professor Rookwood, bringing Ginny out of her stupor. Suddenly wide-awake, she glanced up at the irate professor who stood by the chalkboard, glaring at her. As she glanced around, all other eyes were staring at her. She had almost been fallen asleep, which was unsurprising considering that she had been up until half past three the previous night practicing with the DA. The exercise, combined with the late night, meant that the alarm clock this morning had been hideous. Ginny had rolled over, but the clocks in Hogwarts were charmed to not allow students to miss classes by being asleep. Five minutes after Ginny had hit the snooze button, the alarm had sounded twice as loud and this time refused to turn off until she was out of bed. Dark Arts had been her first lesson on the day and she had paid attention for the best part of two and three quarter minutes, a personal best, but had then slipped into a stupor, her eyelids growing heavier all the time. It didn't take a genius to work out that while she had been miles away, Rookwood had asked her a question.
"Er….what?" she managed to stammer. This was not what Harry meant about a low profile. She was drawing attention to herself. She glanced at the other two members of the DA in the fifth year, both of whom were looking equally as knackered. She hoped to Merlin that Rookwood didn't see a pattern. He might be able to piece it together.
"What is the difference between the Harmandala Curse and the Harmentela Curse?" repeated Rookwood, advancing on Ginny, his eyes blazing with anger.
"They're spelt differently," said Ginny absently, staring Rookwood in the eyes. She had no idea, not that she'd done the reading she had been assigned. There was a snort of laughter around her as the other Gryffindors struggled to hide their laughter.
"As I thought," sneered Rookwood, shooting a silencing glare at the Gryffindors. "You have not attempted the reading that was set. Homework is not optional, Miss Weasley, so it will be a detention tonight with Mr McKae."
"Who?" asked Ginny, raising an eyebrow.
"If you bothered to read the notice boards," continued Rookwood, "you'd know that Mr Filch and his accursed furball have been sent to a place better suited to them. Mr McKae is our new caretaker, and I should warn you, his ability with magic extends beyond cleaning. He has the power to enforce punishments on rule breakers. It would be in all your interests not to cross him."
"Riiiiight," said Ginny slowly. She was not exactly sad to see the back of Filch, but this new guy seemed like a nightmare. Harry had better hurry up and do something, before this place went to the dogs.
"You may be interested to know, Miss Weasley," said Rookwood, "that the Harmandala Curse inflicts physical pain on the affected limb, while the Harmentela Curse infuses pain through the nervous system, but without causing physical pain."
"Well, I'll sleep better at night knowing that," muttered Ginny. Rookwood turned on his heel and retreated to the front of the class. He opened his mouth to speak again, when the golden alarm clock, which stood on his desk, rang out an alarm. The shrill bell pierced Ginny's ears, while Rookwood stood unaffected. Rookwood flicked his wand at the clock, which instantly fell silent.
"Right," said Rookwood, his voice betraying his excitement. "To the Great Hall" He dropped the chalk he was holding and pointed to the door. "It's time."
"Time for what?" blurted out Ginny before she could stop herself. She immediately cringed inwardly for being so stupid. Rookwood turned slowly to face her, but this time, it was not malice in his eyes, but a smug, superior look that Malfoy modelled so often. Whatever was happening, Rookwood was extremely excited about it. That spelt trouble in Ginny's book.
"Things are going to change, Miss Weasley," said Rookwood. "I won't spoil the surprise, but tomorrow, the sun shall rise to find a new world waiting for it."
Ginny's blood ran cold at the very thought. She had no idea what he meant, and but she didn't have to: it was plainly obvious. She just didn't want to think it.
Ginny joined the class filing towards the door, with a quick glance at Terry Boot. The two DA members exchanged a knowing look of resignation. Things were about to get much worse. The walk to the Hall took longer than ever before. Ginny felt like how she imagined someone being walked to their death might, as if the end of this journey would mark the end of everything she knew. She just hoped this wasn't entirely accurate. Her stomach felt sick and her feet like lead as she climbed the darkened stairs up from the dungeons. As they grew closer to the Hall, other classes could be seen filing down the stairs and out of rooms and passages towards the Great Hall. Some had their heads hung low, as if they knew what was coming. Others looked fearful, dreading the unknown, while some of the Slytherins looked like Christmas had come five days early. The tinsel that had been hung around the castle was lost on the students as the walked towards the Hall. They barely saw it, and it inspired no feelings of Christmas cheer, or even hope, in the few that even noticed it. Ginny hardly realised that Christmas was so close because of all the gloom. She had done her shopping for her friends and family -hyphen even those in prison, in the vain hope she would see them again - but this was no Christmas, not as it should be anyhow. This was a taste of the world to come if the Order of the Phoenix, or what was left of it, failed. The trouble was, with each step Ginny took, she was more and more sure that they had already done so.
As she turned into the Hall, Ginny found the tables set out as they always were, but the front of the Hall, where the teacher's table should have been, was completely rearranged. A large white sheet hung across the back wall, completely covering the brick. Fifteen feet in front of it stood what looked like a small fat telescope on a tripod. Beneath the scope, contained within the legs of the tripod, was a basin. Ginny could see an emerald green glow coming from inside. A glowing glass rod descended from the scope into the basin.
Ginny had heard of these things before, though she had never seen one. They could be used to allow a large group of people to view the contents of a Pensieve, or, if linked to the Floo, (which, judging from the green glow, it was,) then it could show the events happening in one place to people seated in another. It was essentially a broadcast system, much like the fellytisson-things that her father had told her about.
The students were shepherded to their respective house tables as they entered. The teachers were there, guiding them along, looks of defeat etched into the faces of those on the right side, while a smug expression was plastered on the face of the High Inquisitor, who strode to the front to check the equipment. Snape was as hard to read as ever.
"What's happening?" hissed Ginny as she passed McGonagall.
"Wait there," said McGonagall, loudly, halting the line. "Please move right the way along to the end of the table, or there will not be room for everyone," she called along the bench. There was more than enough room on the benches since half the school had been expelled a fortnight ago. McGonagall just needed time to respond.
"Minister Crouch has set up a press conference in the Auditorium at the Ministry," said McGonagall quietly. "QUICKLY PLEASE!" she said to reassert her cover before turning back to Ginny. "Whatever it is, it's important and it's bad news. Move along, Miss Weasley."
Ginny took a seat on the bench half way down the Hall. A quick exchange of looks with Katie Bell told her exactly how worried the others were. The Hall seemed too cold, or maybe it was just the atmosphere. Ginny watched the last of the students enter and the Heads of House conduct a head count. The double doors were then swung closed with a loud unforgiving bang. That sound sealed it for Ginny. It seemed to her that all hope had just been locked out of the room, leaving nothing but despair and enemies inside.
"YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE," bellowed Rookwood from the front. "IT'S NOW ELEVEN FIFTY-FIVE. AT MIDDAY THE MINISTER OF MAGIC WILL BROADCAST LIVE FROM THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC AND SPEAK TO THE WHOLE COUNTRY. YOU ARE ABOUT TO WITNESS THE DAWNING OF BRITAIN'S GOLDEN AGE: BE PRIVILEGED. THIS DAY AND WHAT FOLLOWS WILL BE STORIES YOU TELL TO YOUR GRANDCHILDREN, AND YOU WILL BE PROUD TO TELL THEM THAT YOU WERE THERE WHEN IT ALL CHANGED. PLEASE BE PATIENT, AND IN FOUR MINUTES, ALL YOUR QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED."
Ginny shot a glance across the Hall at Malfoy, who was exchanging a hidden high-five with Goyle. She really wished she could leap over there and throttle the little weasel, but was forced to sit and watch. Just then their eyes met, just in time for him to flash a smug smirk at her before turning his attention to the screen.
Four minutes, two hundred and forty seconds, each of which seemed to last an hour, ticked slowly by with nothing but a blank white sheet to stare at. Just as the bell sounded its first bong of the midday ringing, the screen flashed into colour. A large wooden platform had been erected with a polished beech broadcast podium in the centre. Behind this, a large blue flag bearing the logo of Magical Britain had been draped. This was in front of an audience who sat in gently curving pews, giving the audience a shallow horseshoe shape, far below wherever the picture was being taken from. Whatever was capturing the images must be perched on a balcony.
The doors to the left of the stage opened and Barty Crouch Junior marched in, his robes immaculate and his stance tall and proud. He was followed by two lines of Black Watch Aurors, who lined up in front of the curtain, behind their master, as he took the podium. Ginny also noticed that the Black Watch were lined up against the sides of the room, with a few feet separating each of them.
Sweet Merlin, there were so many of them.
"Good afternoon," said Crouch politely as he deposited his notes on the podium and sipped at the water that had been left for him. The scene had a morbid feel to it. The man at the podium flanked by a line of identical black figures, their uniforms immaculate, reminded Ginny of Hitler and the Waffen-SS.
"Firstly, I'd like to thank you for all coming at such short notice," began Crouch, his voice echoing around not only the auditorium, but Hogwarts' Great Hall as well. "And a warm welcome to the members of the press who have attended. I can promise you, ladies and gentlemen, that it will be worth the trip. Now, to business: For many years, you have attended these last minute meetings with a sense of fear, knowing from experience that what you were about to be told was bad news, often with a body-count involved. I am happy to say that this is not the case today. Indeed, ladies and gentleman, I am delighted to tell you that this meeting will begin the process of ushering in a new era for this country and for the witches and wizards who live here. We will once again make this country worthy of the name Great Britain.
"Now, how can we go about such a change?" asked Crouch, his rhetoric reaching out to everyone listening, none of whom had any idea. "Merlin knows that we have had problems in the past. This country has problems; some of them so big that it seems there is no way out of this mess. We are a country which has been torn apart by war, and now must struggle to rebuild itself. These are hard times, make no mistake; but there is hope. I believe that this horrific war that has not only torn communities apart, but has crippled the greatest country on the planet, was a blessing in disguise. It is an opportunity for change, real change. We have been given a clean slate with which to build a society that wizards all over the globe will see and admire.
We now have a choice. We can rebuild as it was, and leave ourselves open to repeating the mistakes of the past, or we can start anew. We have the opportunity to build a brave new world, and I will not pass it by. We will remind other wizards and witches around the world that there is pride in the race of wizards. We will build a society so grand that even the Muggles will take heed. What better way to honour the memories of those whose lives this war has taken, but by building a world in which their children can live, grow and run around safely? Beginning today, we will start to rebuild this crippled, broken society into a new order, and a new world in which wizards and witches alike can live and be happy, free from the oppression they have known these last decades. It is the solemn vow of this administration to stamp out the oppression we as wizards have suffered from all enemies, from anyone who would deny us our potential. We will take what is ours by right, and live as it was meant to be.
"But how do we accomplish this?" asked Crouch, once again drawing the crowd in with rhetoric. "I know you have heard similar words from politicians before, but once they got into power they did nothing. They sat on their thrones, in their own little worlds, growing rich while this country descended into civil war at the whim of a mad-man responsible for the deaths of millions; a man who for years has bribed, threatened and murdered his way through government, placing spies in key places, in the hope of gaining total power of this world. A plan which very nearly succeeded, and which sadly took the life of my father. It is clear to see that it is always the human factor that fails us. These weak leaders were corrupted by power because they did not understand it, so what is needed is not a set of hollow words, but a strong leader who will follow them. A leader who will not compromise, will not accept second place, a leader who will return pride to this country. Sadly, I must admit that I am not that man."
There was a gasp from around the halls and flashes of light as cameras flashed. Was he saying what Ginny thought he was saying? But that would mean….oh, bollocks!
"But it is with pride, not sorrow, that I step aside," continued Crouch. "It has been my life's privilege to serve him, and I have seen first hand his dream, and it is that dream that will guide this country into the future. You will have heard the name, though you still fear it. Ladies and gentlemen, this may come as a shock to you, but please remember whom you heard this from. For years, this man has fought to restore pride to this community, but has been met with nothing but slander by those seeking power for themselves. His name has been dragged through the mud, but still he selflessly battled to restore freedom, our rightful freedom to us all. He is a great leader and an example to us all. Unfortunately, he cannot be here today, but he would want this news to be told to you as soon as possible. He believes in keeping the country informed of what it needs to know, rather than keeping secrets. He recognises your right to know what you need to know.
"So here it is, ladies and gentlemen," continued Crouch, nearing his crescendo. "Five days from now, on Christmas Day, this country will recognise a new leader, under whom we will march proudly into the New Year. But in order to exact these changes, the Ministry will have to be completely restructured into a more efficient regime. The power of the bureaucracy will be a thing of the past, along with poverty and oppression, under the powers of the new leader in a new role created especially for him. On Christmas Day, you will witness not the presentation of a new Minister of Magic, but the inauguration of a new High Chancellor. He's already a Lord of noble birth, and his new title will enable him to do justice to this country. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to inform you that from on Christmas Day, your very first High Chancellor will be his Lordship, Lord Voldemort."