I remember I don't own anything here but my character.
Chapter Three : Findings
Bristol, 7th June 2001
"So, are you telling me that the place was empty?" Dawlish grimaced, but it was hard to tell if it was for what he was about to say, or for the fact he didn't like at all the job of contact between the Highland Rangers and the Aurors. "Yeah. Empty, not considering this!" And he showed a piece of parchment. The line scribbled on it was in German. "What that means?" Ronald asked, a little curious. Robert said plainly : "It's a comment about how we use our asses!" Horace chuckled besides himself. Dawlish swore : "Damn it all! Third tip-off you give us, third failure! How is it possible!" Ronald commented : "I smell a rat here!" "Yep, that's it. The Ministry has a mole, of course. I'd be rather surprised if they hadn't some. Question is, how the hell is he able to know our moves so good?" Robert exclaimed.
Silence ensued. Then, Dawlish spoke up, standing. "Well, I have to go. Had to tell you guys this, and then go back. But I have to tell you, Robards is adamant on thinking it's not one of us... and not one of you, either!" "How tremendously nice of him!" Horace quipped suavely. Robert stopped the reply of the Auror by quickly saying : "Thanks a lot, Dawlish. We'll contact you!"
As the unfortunate wizard was out of the flat, one of the many safehouses established thanks to the Walshingham wealth, Ron sighed : "We got quite a problem. From what had happened, I'd tell our mole is well-informed. We have to cut him out, and fast!" "Indeed. I'm not even going to ask the Big H question." Horace nodded enthusiastically.
Their field leader was rubbing his chin, thinking deeply. At last, he threw down his arms and sighed. "I'll guess we'll have to follow plan C-4!" The aged Potions master and the young redhead both went up at godspeed. "What?" The latter asked indignantly. "Look, I know it's a desperate measure..." "Desperate? It's quite suicidal! We go get that Kirchenwald bloke, we lose our prime source of intelligence! A lot of what we accomplished was because of him! We can't lose it!" Bob huffed and crossed his arms. "I'm perfectly aware of that. But have you thought he's probably the only one we can lay a finger on in our present situation, and the only one who 100% probability knows the identity of our li'l mole here?" "I understand that. But Ron may be right : Kirchenwald gave us an inside look on their plans. Is it wise to lose him this early?" Horace asked, doubtful. Ron glared at him, still fuming. "I think it's worth the loss. Our information is of little value if the Ministry is not secure from enemy intel. And you know that, Red!" When he started to use nicknames, he was always going to full leader mode. The young Weasley sustained his gaze some seconds more, then he lowered his eyes. "Alright, alright. But don't come whining to me when we're going to know absolutely nothing about the enemy!"
The Burrow, 10th June 2001
"Charlie, dear, could you bring me the spoons?" Mrs Weasley's voice echoed in the garden, as she was busy preparing the table for lunch. Her lunches were always quite a masterpiece, but from two days she was busier than ever. Not only Bill and Fleur were coming for lunch every day, taking with them Gabrielle, currently in England for a stage at the Ministry; but the Delacours had come to visit them, so she was constantly fumbling around.
The family was scattered here and there : Harry, Ginny and Hermione were laughing near the door, Arthur was helping George with the gnomes, Bill was being besieged by Monsieur Delacour, a stream of French words barreling out of his mouth, while Fleur was completely oblivious to his ordeal, talking enthusiastically to her mother.
Mrs Weasley glanced around : Percy was with Gabrielle, a little more far away from the house, but he looked somewhat in trouble. She eyed more carefully, curious, and she noticed that Fleur's sister looked... serious. That was puzzling, as she had always been a cheerful and bright young girl; but even as she was now fourteen, she didn't look at all as a quarter-Veela young witch should; it was plain that she was listening to Percy's clumsy attempt at making conversation out of pure courtesy... or was it just boredom?
Her thoughts were interrupted when three figures appeared far away, walking towards the Burrow. Arthur looked at them, and exclaimed : "Hey, it's Ronald, with Slughorn and Walshingham!" "Ron?" said Hermione, running near to him, and then breaking in a huge smile. "Yes, it's him! Oh, I can't wait to ask him what he has done since last time!" The rest of the family reacted accordingly : even if Ron tried to visit as many times as he could, together with his two teammates, it wasn't nearly enough for a loving family. But even as she quickly prepared the table for three more, Mrs Weasley couldn't help but notice that Gabrielle was seemingly putting on a fake smile, just to not look a spoilsport.
"Hello, son! You look great!" said the elder Weasley as he hugged his son. Ron merely smiled, as he hugged in turn the rest of his family. As presentations were over, his mother asked nonchalantly : "I've made room for three more. You'll stay for lunch, won't you?" Robert looked at her, confused. "Why are you asking that? We are not crazy!" A roar of laughter soon followed, and a happy meal went on, with lots of conversations going by. Yet, Mrs Weasley's keen eye noticed that Gabrielle merely picked at her food, and she didn't look interested at all in what was being said.
"As I told you, we've been trying to find the mole the Purifiers have in the Ministry. We catch it, we're good!" Ron said, after shoving a mouthful of pudding in his mouth. "But who can be so well informed?" inquired Arthur, looking worried. Robert looked at him and said : "Well, that was our question, too, so we went after some of their numbers, to try and extract a name from them. It took some time, but at least we got our name!" He suddenly stopped, waited a second, then he went on : "And I can say it was a true shocker. We could hardly believe him, because what he said is that..."
"MERDE!" Time seemed to go slower as Gabrielle shot up from her chair, and with a wand taken out from a hidden place in her vest she shot a curse at Walshingham. He didn't flinch, and with a fluid move with his wand he easily blocked the attack. "Waiting for your shot, kid!" Without no more warning, his wand slashed the air, and the young girl was sent flying, and landed with little grace on the ground.
All but the Rangers were struck speechless, and unable to move, as Robert went closer to her, snatched the wand before she could laid her hand over it, gave it to Ron, and with a rude gesture he made her shirt's first button pop off. His face went dark as, just over the top end of the sternum, a black tattoo clashed with her milk-white skin : a cross whose vertical line extended to form a P.
"The Purifiers's symbol." Robert said lowly. He looked very glum. "What did you do?" he asked Gabrielle, in French. She looked at him with contempt and disgust. Then she muttered : "Just a combination of parents too proud of their eldest daughter to care for the youngest one, and an epiphany. About the truth that there is people destined to lead... and people who has to be subjected!" The gaze of her blue eyes couldn't be a more appropriated companion to her words.
Robert sighed, then he muttered an "Incarcerous!" before turning to face the upset face of M. Delacour. "This has to be a mistake! My daughter is not guilty of what you accuse her! There has to be an explanation! I'm confident...!" The rambling in French was cut short by Gabrielle's sneer. "Stop that! This is all your fault, at least be a man!" The Frenchman looked at her daughter with wide eyes, incapable of uttering word. The Rangers looked at him compassionately : his world had just been shattered.
At last, Robert spoke up. "I'm truly sorry, but the tattoo confirms what our prisoner told us. The mole is Gabrielle : she had full clearance for the Ministry, and as people thought she was okay, as Bill's sister-in-law, they didn't notice that she saw classified information. She advised Rommell, and thwarted our plans. There's no doubt possible." He turned again, because he was finding increasingly hard to look in the eyes the devastated and stunned men and women, and looking at his prisoner, he asked : "What are your master's plans?" She replied with a curt : "I don't remember!" "We'll see about that!" he murmured, and his eyes went as hard as diamond as he used his Legilimency skills to pierce her mind's barriers and reach through her most hidden secrets.
When he looked up, he was very serious. "We have a big problem. She," and he pointed to the struggling French witch, "is far better informed that I thought. So, they're attempting a mass breakout at Azkaban. In about... half an hour!" "What? We have to alert Kingsley and Robards at once!" Ron yelled, surprise leaving room for decision. Horace didn't even wait for the order, and took out the Two-way Mirror they used to communicate with the Chief Auror, and called : "Gawain Robards!" Instantly, the sharp face of Robards appeared. "We caught the mole; it was Gabrielle Delacour... NO, please don't interrupt, there's no time! Robert used Legilimency on her, and he found out they're going to attempt a mass breakout from Azkaban, more or less in half an hour!" Horace said quickly. The shock transpired in Robards's anguished reply. "What? Oh, sweet Merlin, what can we do? My boys are mostly scattered, it will take me a while to reassemble them. We won't make in time to prevent it!" Robert swore under his breath, then he took the mirror and said : "Okay, maybe we won't be able to prevent it, but I'm confident we can limit the number of escapees. I'm sending Ronald with Gabrielle to the Ministry, for further interrogation. Horace and myself will sped to Azkaban and... we'll do our utmost!" "Are you sure it's a good idea? They are going to go there in numbers; the two of you will be..." "I know, I know, it's dangerous, but what choice do we have? Don't worry, we have no intention of letting those creeps kill us! Just get moving, and godspeed, Gawain! Over." And with that, he broke the link. He lifted his head, and everyone was impressed with the hidden fire of his blue eyes. "Very well, that's it. As I said, Red, you'll have to get Gabrielle to the Ministry, and quickly, before the Purifiers get the news! Ace and I will get there and blunt their plans! Everything clear?" "Crystal!" replied Ron, curtly. "Wait, we are coming too!" quipped in Harry. Robert looked at him and said sternly : "No way. You'll stay here, that's not an option!" "What? For your information, I passed a lot of time fighting..." said Harry indignantly, but the tall Wizards interrupted him abruptly : "... Death Eaters, I know, the problem being that these are not Death Eaters; these guys are not fighting individually, they have been training for ages to fight as a team. They're a lot more dangerous that Voldemort's cronies, and the difference between us and you guys it's that we know how to fight 'em and we are trained to do that; you haven't." The looks on their faces was less than complying, until Arthur spoke up. "I think he is right. He says we would be a liability, I trust him. Let's leave this to professionals." "Thank you, Arthur. Now, if you don't mind, we have a breakout to mess up! Let's go!"
With that, Robert and Horace ran for the limit of the Anti-Disapparition Jinx still in place on the Burrow, followed by Ronald, with the still imprisoned Gabrielle levitating behind him. In no time, they reached the outward fields, and Disapparated, leaving behind a worried and still shocked family, a broken one, and a half-eaten pudding.
Azkaban, about thirty minutes later
As much as the Highland Rangers's Apparition range had improved together with all their magical abilities, they weren't on time as they came on the nameless island that hosted the dark prison of Azkaban. Of course, given that the Anti-Apparition Jinx on the island had forbidden them to Apparate directly on it, they had been forced to apparate on the nearest Scottish island and then proceed on brooms. And even if the custom-made Thunderstorm X3 brooms were well-suited for flying at incredible speed in the worst conditions imaginable, they found out the attack was already in-progress.
About forty Dark wizards, clad in dark hoods, swarmed everywhere, fighting fiercely with the guards. As much as they were the upper crust of the Aurors, they couldn't resist such a determined attack. Most of them were already defeated and injured, or even dead. The few still standing kept battling, however, in a remarkable gallant last stand.
"Here goes nothing! Let's use Plan Double B 4! FÁGH AN BELEACH!" Robert roared, the Irish-originated battle cry of the Highland Rangers (chosen by his father) echoing everywhere as the two powerful wizards jumped from their brooms, right in the middle of the wild melee. The Purifiers, all of whom the elite of the followers of Erich Rommell, wasted no time on redirecting the focus of their attack from the guards to the Rangers; but they grimly found out it was not nearly enough.
Robert and Horace were really fighting as one; back-to-back, they moved around in large circles, each providing cover for the other; they were blasting away spell after spell with such success that their enemies understood it was impossible to regroup and crush them with numbers. Robert was in charge of the 'tactical' specialty : moving faster than his comrade, he was firing quick and nifty spells to disarm, repulse, throw away and confuse the Dark Wizards who were too close or too bold for his liking, thus preventing surprises. Horace, on his side, was the 'strategic' master : lacking with speed, he exploited fully his power, his spells taking longer to charge and fire than Robert's, but the result was considerably more devastating; thus he concentrated on large groups, usually scattering them and preventing a coordinated effort. This superb mixture, thanks to a long and strenuous training, was succeeding in permitting Ace and Fatty to engage such enemy numbers; unfortunately, it was designed to hold the enemy, waiting for reinforcements. And this time, holding the enemy in check was not helping in their quest.
"The inmates are out! Time is running out!" Fatty yelled over the noise, without stopping the rhythm. "Damn! Then, there's only one thing to do; let's make a good all-in, Fatty!" Ace replied. "Ok, I take it. Count!" "One... Two... THREE!" An indigo curse flashed, and a huge explosion shattered the wall of the prison, debris flying everywhere. As the Purifiers reeled in shock, the Rangers sprang into action : running towards the previous hole made by the enemy, they blasted out of their way the Dark Wizards on their paths, and when they got in range, they fired all the spells they could in the middle of the escapees. "STUPEFY! INCARCEROUS! IMPEDIMENTA! BOMBARDA!" Robert thundered. But after a few seconds, they were both forced to stall their attack and defend themselves, as the Purifiers had recovered from the shock. Now pinned against the collapsed wall, they relied on their agility and their protective charms to evade the incoming attacks. "This way we can't hold them forever!" the sweating Potion master commented loudly, him having the hardest time due to his large girth. Robert looked up at the clouded sky and smiled. "Hold your guts, the cavalry's coming!"
And indeed, at last Gawain Robards arrived with thirty Aurors, the bulk of his strike force, and the battle was now even. But just then, the Purifiers made their run for it, jumping on their brooms. Robert and Horace ran out trying to take out as many creeps as they could. Four went down, but the others fled. And Robards's attempt to pursue ended when their hooded leader proclaimed : "NOX PERPETUA!" A huge wall of pure darkness swallowed the Aurors; incapable of holding on their bearings in that black nowhere, they were forced to desist.
"You okay, Fatty?" "I'm all right. Some curses flew a little too close for my liking, but it's not a big deal!" The two wizards looked around; apart from the Prison having taken serious damage, at least forty-seven of the sixty guards that made the garrison had been felled. And just twenty-two of them were still breathing. As he went down, Robards's face went sorrowful. "I knew most of them; they were good men... and great friends!" With sincere compassion, Robert put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry we couldn't get here any faster; we did our best." "I don't blame you. But next time we met the Purifiers, I may have some words to tell them!" the Auror said, his eyes blazing.
The count of the escapees, however, was quite positive. It was particularly feared that the most dangerous followers of the Dark Lord, like Dolohov, Rabastan Lestrange, Travers and Yaxley would be set free and would join the Purifiers, adding their fearsome abilities to their already impressive power set. But of these, only Dolohov and Travers had managed to escape, together with some minor ones like Thorfinn Rowle, Macnair and Rookwood. Yaxley had been taken out cold by one of their spells, while the remaining Lestrange apparently had been just behind the wall Robert had blasted.
"Well, the result is not that bad. Even if we count our losses, just two first-line Death Eaters made it, in all eight really dangerous black-hooded baddies; and six Purifiers bit dust." commented Walshingham, a little bit more satisfied. Robards nodded, saying : "You guys did a great job. They would have met with complete success, without you discovering it and running here!" Horace waved his hand, exclaiming in mock modesty : "Aww, enough compliments, you're making me blush!" A laughter escaped the three men, but then, a broom with a tall redhead landed near them.
"Red! Is everything alright?" Robert asked worriedly, because Ronald looked like he'd been to Hell and back. He shook his head, clutching his forefront, on which a large cut reddened his face with blood. "No, it all went wrong. Now it's all clear, but how could we imagine then that Gabrielle's necklace – have you noticed it? - allowed her to communicate with Rommell's lackeys?" Horace closed his eyes, sighing. "Don't tell me..." "I'm telling you, that as I Apparated in a field, on my way to the Ministry, they were already there. I was lucky enough, they couldn't finish me off at once, so I was able to run for cover and then fight back. At least eight of them – there were at least fifteen bastards – are not going to fight anymore for at least a month, but with numbers against me, no reinforcements coming, I was forced to stay on the defensive, so they freed Gabrielle and left in a hurry. I went to the Ministry, it was like a disturbed anthill, I explained everything to Kingsley, and then I went here to tell you. I'm sorry, Bob,..." His excuses were cut short by Robert. "Don't worry, you did your best. It's not your fault if she's gone. At least we blocked that source of intel, and that's what counts." Horace chuckled a bit : "I want to be there when you're going to explain that to Monsieur Delacour!" The leader of the team sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I'll worry about that tomorrow. Now, I'm just worrying about getting a good sleep's night." But he looked quite worried. Robards noticed, and asked : "What's wrong?" The gaze that answered it was full of doubtfulness. "When I looked into Gabrielle's eyes and mind, all I could sense was darkness... she didn't join them because they blackmailed her, or because a temporary weakness... she joined because she is convinced Rommell is right." Walshingham looked at his two friends, equally worried, and said in a low voice : "If our enemy's reach is able to turn such a girl... if he is able to do such a thing, I'm afraid the odds in our favor are somewhat less than I thought."
The silence that followed was the reluctant confirmation he didn't need.
Okay, if someone wants to shoot me or something because I made Gabrielle a villain, be my guest. It's not like I hate her, I just wanted a little drama; and there is no better drama than finding out that someone above suspicion is a baddie!
There was a lot of action here, but don't worry, there'll be plenty of other things in the next chapters!