Harry Potter and the Power of Time
Chapter 24 – Houseguests, Pt. 1
The next morning; Christmas Day; Harry woke up late feeling like ass! Whether due to the excess amount of butterbeer he'd consumed the night before, the huge meal of fried goodies he'd dined on at the Chinese restaurant, or his forgetting to practice Occlumency, he had no idea. Right then, Harry much didn't care. Not even the extra long lie-in he'd had did him any good. It was going to be a rough morning.
To be precise though, it wasn't that Harry forgot his Occlumency exercise; it was just that he hadn't done them. A week ago when his double had failed to show, which Harry had correctly assumed to be an indication that he was taking a break from training, Harry also decided to forgo the nightly meditations he usually underwent, to see what would happen.
Each of the many Occlumency books he'd read theorized that many different things could happen as result. The largest possibility was that his many mind spheres could start to deteriorate, and would flood into the outer layer of his mind. Another theory was that all the experiences he'd had since his last meditation would be grouped with his inconsequential thoughts, but his inner mind would otherwise remain intact. Not knowing for sure, Harry decided to use the holidays to find out. Even with the daily adventures he was having with Neville, Harry was more relaxed and unchallenged than he'd ever been at Hogwarts. Knowing there was a large possibility he'd be laid out in the hospital wing for days unconscious, or otherwise incapacitated, Harry wanted to find out for himself what would happen before that actually occurred. And with his track record, it would be sometime before the end of the school year.
Still, as Harry took an extra long and hot shower in his luxurious bathroom, he tried to concentrate on his headache, and detect what the cause was. More than just a slight hang-over; more than just his mind being cluttered with unsorted memories, Harry knew the slight taint he was picking up. It was dark, and evil, and reeked of Voldemort.
Ever since his last vision; of the last group of Death Eaters not showing to a summons, and Lucius being put in charge of finding them; Harry had sensed very little through his link. One of the down sides, unfortunately, of being such an accomplished Occlumens. Normally a person would take the silence as good news, but not Harry. In his case, he knew that Voldemort wouldn't stay silent much longer; especially considering the news about the Prophecy he found out from Malfoy. Ever since Halloween, Harry had been expecting reports of Voldemort sightings in The Daily Prophet. Now that he no longer had a reason to bide his time, what was stopping him from major assaults on the public? Still, the only news that continued to be regularly reported on were the Dementor attacks on muggles and a few wizard families.
Now though, for the first time in months Harry's head was throbbing, and his scar was tingling. It would be just like him to amass an attack on Christmas day, and Harry was already wishing the day would be over with.
"Morning Winky, Dobby. How did you sleep?" Since Harry hadn't slept well, he only hoped his other friends had. As he left his suite and entered the kitchen, Harry noticed that Neville was also eating already at the table, although he looked just slightly better than Harry did. They really had stayed up way too long last night.
"Wes is sleeping very fine, Mr. Harry Potter sir!" Dobby answered. "Winky is wanting to be doing more than sleeping last night, but Dobby was too tired. But Mr. Harry Potter sir is not wanting to be knowing about that, is he sir?"
"Dobby!" Winky yelled out. "Yous is being a bad house-elf for talking about that! Bad Dobby!" Harry almost laughed at the blush she had on her little face. It almost matched the one Neville was showing, as he finally figured out what Dobby had meant by his comment. It had taken a very long time, but at least now Harry knew for certain that Dobby and Winky were more than just co-workers and roommates.
"Yeah," Harry joked, "bad Dobby! A gentleman never kisses and tells, Dobby. Remember that."
"Uh, errr," Neville stuttered, "I think I'm done." He almost tripped over his own feet, on his way to put his plate in the sink. "I'll be watching the telly until we leave, alright Harry?" He didn't even wait for an answer. Faced with the possibility of talking more about the house-elves' sex life, Neville ran right out the room.
"I think you scared him, Dobby. Way to go!"
Harry just laughed as he served himself some of the cooked eggs and bacon, while Dobby patted himself on the back, and put away the leftovers.
A short time later, Harry was all done, and met Neville in the muggle room. For once he wasn't watching the gardening channel, but this time some movie, and didn't mind turning it off when Harry approached. Neville knew that they were going to Diagon Alley that day, and then a visit to St. Mungo's in the afternoon, but other than that, Harry hadn't told him much of what they had planned.
"All ready for a big day, Nev? I expect you're excited to see your parents."
"Yeah," he agreed, "thanks again for not minding Harry. I know they don't say much, but they're my parents, and they're all I've got. It just wouldn't be Christmas to me without seeing them."
"I don't mind," Harry told him. "I wish I had someone to spend the holidays with every year. Anyway, I just need a quick word with Remus, and then I thought we'd spend the morning walking through town to The Leaky Cauldron. I figured we could have lunch there, spend some time looking around, and then go to St. Mungo's when we're ready. You can even stop off at Gringotts if you need."
"Sounds good Harry, but Remus is already gone. He must have left before we even got up. There was a note on the kitchen table saying he wouldn't be back til late, and for us to not wait up for him. Was it important?"
Harry frowned. "Sorta. Listen Neville, I want you to be ready today for anything. My scar's been acting up, and that usually means Voldemort is up to something. Diagon Alley should be patrolled by aurors, but just in case, I want you ready to defend yourself. Alright?"
Neville looked worried. "Nothing will really happen today, will it? I mean, even Death Eaters have families to spend with on Christmas day! He couldn't attack now."
Harry disagreed. "He could Neville, if only because it's unexpected. Anyway, I'm not sure of anything, I just want to be extra careful today. I'm wearing my full dragon hide set, and I want you to wear your portkey too. That way if anything happens, we'll be covered. I'm going to write a short note to send with Hedwig, and I guess we can leave when I'm done. Sorry to be a downer; I just want to be careful."
Neville agreed, and went back to watching his movie while Harry walked to the library and composed his letter.
Dear Minister Bones,
Sorry to be so blunt, but I woke up this morning with my scar hurting, and I'm sure by now Dumbledore's told you what that means. I'm not sure of anything, but I wouldn't put it past Voldemort to try something today. So if you're able, I would suggest calling in some extra aurors, or at least have them on-call. I know the timing sucks being Christmas and all, but I'd rather be safe then sorry. Either way, it's your call, I just thought I'd let you know.
Harry Potter
P.S. If nothing turns out, have a Happy Christmas, and please wish the same to Susan for me. And since I never got the chance to tell you; congratulations on becoming Minister (even if it's only temporary.) It's refreshing to have a competent person in office for a change.
It wasn't the best letter he'd ever written, but it got the job done. Pulling another piece of parchment, Harry wrote another like it to Remus, and a third to Dumbledore. Even though Harry was still angry with the man, Dumbledore really was the best person to have the information.
Turning to face Hedwig who was perched on the back of a study chair, Harry handed her the three envelopes. "Girl, deliver these three right away. Do Madam Bones first, then Remus, and then Professor Dumbledore. Got that all?"
Hedwig nodded her head, and in a burst of gold and white flames, disappeared. Sometimes Harry wondered if she did that just to show off, but since his home lacked any working windows, he couldn't well blame her.
It didn't take much longer for Harry and Neville to get ready, and soon they were riding the lift down to the ground floor. There was a family of three in the lift already when the doors opened to his home, so Harry had to do some quick obliviating to rid their memories. It wasn't one of the things he'd told Neville he could do yet, but really it was unavoidable. Harry wasn't too concerned though. Not only did Neville not make any stupid comments like "holly crickie Harry, you can obliviate," but he also didn't even bat an eye. When he thought about it, Harry knew it couldn't be that surprising. After admitting to being able to perform the Fidelius Charm, creating portkeys, hide his magic use from the Ministry, and the advanced spellwork he'd shown Neville over the past week, a simple obliviation spell wasn't all that difficult.
Once out in the street, both boys took a long look around, for once forgetting the possibility of Voldemort ruining the day. A fresh blanket of snow had fallen the night before, and had covered up the dirty and slushy streets of London. It was the perfect picture of Christmas. Never before had Harry felt more like a part of the corny Christmas movies he'd gotten a glimpse of, and secretly longed for. It was times like that that Harry had to remind himself that even with all the bad events that had happened to him so far that year, it was still one of the best years of his life.
Most shops were closed, being Christmas and all, but a select few were open. Most were stands selling steaming mugs of cider and coca, and Harry purchased two for himself and Neville as they walked up and down the side streets. Neville chose coca, Harry took a cider, and both were happy. It had been at least five days since they had spent a large amount of time together in muggle London (not counting the night before), and the two strolled leisurely to look in all the window displays, and check out the holiday decorations.
It was nearly a half hour later, the hot mugs of beverage long gone, that the two came to a church service just ending. Whole families were pouring out of the large double doors, and Neville noticed another service was scheduled to begin shortly. He wanted to go in and take a look around; as wizards didn't follow any religion that Harry could tell of; and it was one of the concepts that Neville had been explained, but didn't completely grasp. Harry wasn't sure if it would be proper, but seeing as they had plenty of time to kill, agreed only when he made Neville promise to stray to the back, and not say a word.
The two got some odd glances as they entered (it wasn't normal for two teenage boys to attend a church service without being forced by their families), but were soon after dismissed. Quietly they took seats at a back pew, and waited for the room to fill.
In the few minutes it took, Harry again reminded Neville the little about Christianity he knew himself. In the wizarding world, Christmas was strictly a holiday to celebrate family. Four hundred years ago, according to rumor, there was a mentally unbalanced wizard by the name of Chris Cringle, who used to floo into peoples' homes, and leave gifts behind for those worthy. It was rumored he had had a mental breakdown after a stray curse had hit him, and started the custom to alleviate some of his excess holiday cheer. Most people got left nice gifts, and those that he knew personally and didn't like got left lumps of coal. Back then, coal burned in a floo fireplace wrecked havoc with the system, and caused access to the central system to be shut down for days. Leaving coal behind to those he didn't like was Chris's idea of a practical joke. Years later when Chris died, his kids continued the tradition, in remembrance of their father who became much loved. Over the years though the tale got twisted and skewed, and somehow overheard by muggles. Now Chris's descendents got tons of owl mail each year, thanks to all the little children world-wide who wrote to "Santa." The tradition hadn't lasted much longer than the generation of Chris's kids, and now they were most likely the only family in existence who didn't look forward to the Christmas season. At the time it first happened, squibs who worked in the muggle post system didn't know what else to do; to hide the many letters they couldn't address the muggle way. Over the years the volume of letters had increased, but since in the past no "Santa" letters had ever turned up in a wrong place or been returned, they had to continue forwarding the mail by owl. When Harry learned of all this in one of the few History of Magic classes he'd been awake for, he'd wondered how many letters the Cringle family had from Dudley. Maybe he could convince them to make a trip for old time's sake, and leave some coal behind?
But explaining about the muggle religion to Neville; about Mary and the three wise men, and all about how Jesus had been born of no mother, and was thought to be the son of God; was more difficult than Harry thought it would be. Neville still hadn't properly grasped the concept of God, nor could he understand how the holiday could be about this holy birth in a barn, in some town named Bethlehem, when it was also seemingly about "Santa Clause" and gifts, and spending time with family.
Luckily, attending the service didn't require Neville to have a large grasp of the religion. In truth, Harry knew that most in attendance understood little more than he did. Christmas mass was the one time a year when those who felt guilty about not attending regular services showed up to exhibit what a good Christian they were, and that they did their part. Much like the Dursleys had done for the years Harry had been forced to live with them. They'd always left Harry alone to wonder in a park when they attended mass, all of five times he could remember. But the park was close to the Little Whinning church, and Harry had been able to listen in through the windows sometimes. That, plus music class in primary school, had ingrained in him at least some of the songs the church sang, and Harry did his best to help Neville follow along.
When the service was over with, Harry decided they spent enough time in the muggle side of London, and steered them towards The Leaky Cauldron. It was already past noon, and the city was starting to wake up from its slumber. Neville even got to hear more songs as a passing by hayride with carolers serenaded the street with their angelic voices. The side of the truck said it belonged to St. Bart's Children Orphanage, and Harry and Neville both donated what little muggle cash they had on them when collections were taken.
Finally they reached the small and dingy door of the entrance to their world, and Neville was the first to step through the doors. Beyond the threshold was a world of difference. For once inside the dank barroom, Harry noted there wasn't an ounce of holiday cheer, nor decoration, nor even a hint that it was in fact the holidays. There were hags in a back corner, seedy looking men at the counter, and good ol' toothless Tom behind the bar. He waved over to Harry and Neville, and because they weren't in disguise this time, the two ventured over to share a quick word.
"Hey Tom, Happy Christmas!" Harry said cheerfully. Just because everyone else in the room was ignoring the holiday, didn't mean he had to.
"Hello Harry. Hello Mr. Longbottom. Happy Christmas to you too, although I'd appreciate it if you kept your voices down. Not everybody is as appreciative of the holidays as you seem to be." To illustrate his point, Tom gestured to the men who had sneered at the well wishes, and moved away from the jubilant duo.
"Sorry," Neville mumbled.
"So what are you two doing here today, instead of spending it with your friends and family?" Tom asked.
"Well, we're going to St. Mungo's later to see Neville's parents," Harry answered him, "but we wanted a quick look around in the Alley. I've never been before during Christmas, and Neville says there's plenty of new things to see."
Reminded of the fates of Frank and Alice Longbottom, Tom faltered for a moment, before agreeing with them that the Alley was a sight to see. They traded some more small talk, and deciding to skip lunch because not that much time had passed since breakfast, Harry and Neville were soon on their way to the back door. Before they left though, Harry thought of the warning he had given others because his scar had been hurting, and knew he should give Tom the same counsel.
"Tom, did you ever get one of those new portkeys the Ministry has been distributing?" Harry asked.
"Portkeys? Oh yeah, they were given to all businesses in the Alley. Mine's posted on the wall in the corner." Harry turned to look for it, and saw a large handle nailed to the wall, in an awkward spot behind a large table and chairs.
"Um, Tom. It's kind of inaccessible there, don't you think?" Harry mentioned. Currently, you had to move aside three chairs and push the large table to the side to even reach the portkey. Not much good it would do there, in case of an attack.
"Well, that was the largest wall available, and that's where the Ministry said it should go. I guess I could rearrange the furniture some, but it's been so long since I've done that, I'm almost scared to."
Harry smiled at the thought. He supposed The Leaky Cauldron had been a fixture in the wizarding world for so long, moving the furniture was almost unthinkable. Still, Harry's scar was still bothering him, and he asked Tom to consider it, at least for the day. The crowds Christmas Day were small, and Tom didn't need every single chair to be out.
"Well," Tom said after Harry asked him again, "I suppose I could move the table out of the way once the lunch crowd clears out. I got some space in my back store room I'm not using right now, and I think it will fit. For you Harry, I'll see to it."
"Thanks, Tom," Harry said. "For some reason, I think you won't be sorry." Tom raised his eyebrow at that, but Harry and Neville were already heading to the back alley. Neville got to tap the bricks since he was first there, and soon the archway to Diagon Alley had opened up.
"Wow," Harry said. "It really does look different."
Harry wasn't exaggerating either. The streets were bordered in a pristine white as the snow there had been untouched by dirty snowplows or car tracks. Each and every single window in view had small trees and wreaths proudly displayed, with special holiday prices on their products advertised. Previously, Harry had only been to Diagon Alley during the summer, where most of the businesses put emphasis on school children. Now though, not just children, but everyone had something special to find among the many store windows, and Harry was amazed at how wonderful, yet more adult the Alley seemed.
"It's nice, isn't it?" Neville asked. "I used to love coming to the Alley when I was younger. My Gran was never much fun alone during the holidays, and I used to love looking at all the families having such a good time together. I remember one year, when it didn't snow, a whole group of people got together in the town square and cast simultaneous charms to conjure some. There must have been two hundred people all making snow! It was great, and there were mounds of it to play in. A huge snowball fight broke out for all the kids. I wasn't allowed to join, but I remember watching it. It looked like a lot of fun."
Harry could only nod, as he was shocked just how much of a sheltered life Neville really had led. His gran hadn't even let him join in a simple snowball fight? What was the danger in that? Harry doubted that Neville could have been hurt, but knew it didn't matter now. That was all in the past, and Harry wanted to concentrate on the future.
"Why were so many people there Neville?" Harry asked. "In fact, why are so many people here now? I knew a few shops would be open, but I didn't expect Diagon Alley to be so busy."
"It's not like muggle London, Harry," Neville answered. "Everyone takes the morning off to open gifts and spend with their families, but the Alley always reopens by at least noon. Diagon Alley is never closed down. For Christmas the shops usually close early the night before, and open late today. It's just normal, I guess. Even when You-Know-Who was at the height of his power last time around, Diagon Alley was always operating. It's a center of the magical world! At least, here in the U.K.
Again, Harry was surprised wizard and muggle customs differed so much. He just smiled though, not wanting to dwell on the differences. "Come on Neville, let's go!"
For the next two hours, Harry and his friend had much fun browsing all the shops, picking up a few things that looked interested. Harry needed some more potion ingredients, and Neville wanted to get a salve for Trevor (his skin got dry in the winter), but other than that, almost all of their purchases were frivolous and spontaneous. Harry had a lot of fun.
He also made some stops to see some of the people he'd met last time. Lemarin Leeds was pleased to see Harry again, who couldn't praise his trunk enough. He let Lemarin know that everything was working just fine, and reminded the man that he was still keyed into Harry's security measures, but to only enter with Dumbledore in extreme circumstances. Now more than ever (with ten people illegally imprisoned within his trunk), Harry was nervous about people gaining access.
Walt Whiggman was pleased to see Harry, and thanked him for the update letters he sent after every one of his Quidditch games. Already Harry was convinced the new broom would be a huge success, and Neville agreed. Harry introduced the two, and Walt was pleased to hear that Neville was a beater; the same as his old position. Since the beater's broom was the other prototype done, and Walt was in such a good mood, he promised Neville that he'd give him a special discount on the broom when it was finally released. Neville was happy to hear about that (he still flew an old used Shooting Star), and promised to take him up on the offer.
That brought a question to Harry's mind. "Walt, when will the new brooms be out, anyway? Still aiming for next summer?"
"Next summer indeed, Harry. Unless things go horribly wrong, and I have to wait until next Christmas, I should have a few hundred brooms for each position ready and packaged by the time you get out of school for the year. All the modifications and last minute changes have been made, I'm only now waiting for my investments to pay off. I didn't want to have to put my shop at risk to make the brooms; in case they're a flop; so I invested in a long-term venture with the goblins two years ago. Once the investment matures, I should have plenty of money for an initial run, with still some left over. Then I can use the profits from the broom sales to manufacture even more. The second release will be the largest. I'm thinking of making the first ones special in some way, since there won't be as many of them, but I haven't decided yet. Still, I've got months to figure it out."
It all sounded very technical and well-covered to Harry, and he let the matter drop. Originally he'd been thinking that he could invest with Whiggman to make the brooms, as they were a guaranteed best seller. Harry knew he didn't need to make money, but he still wanted to earn a living somehow eventually. Because he had so many investments in so many different companies (both muggle and non), he thought a good idea was to continue to sponsor promising business ventures. Living on his parents' and Sirius' fortune wasn't exactly fulfilling, and Harry wanted to be his own man.
Harry skipped over visiting Ollivander the wand maker, as Neville still didn't know about his second wand, but together they visited almost every other shop. Harry even took Neville into Knockturbn Alley for the first time in his life. Neville had been scared to at first, but after Harry promised him it wasn't was bad as he feared, his friend reluctantly agreed. The fact that the darker Alley was almost completely empty, most likely due to the merry holiday cheer, helped things immensely.
Neville was fascinated with all the strange and new shops he'd never been to before. Harry pointed out the tattoo parlor (though he didn't admit to having any), the knick-knack shop, an occult bookstore, and Neville even ventured into the pet shop devoted solely to snakes and spiders.
Harry's hearing was overrun with the hisses of hundreds of snakes, and Seth too complained; something he'd never done before. Most snakes were kept in cages, but a few of the larger ones were allowed to roam loose, and it made Harry extremely uncomfortable.
Neville though didn't seem to mind, as he was too excited about a discovery. A rare breed of spider was in plentiful supply in a dank and dark cage, and Neville exclaimed how much they were a favorite treat of Trevor's, but notoriously hard to find. He didn't buy any then, as the small critters would have died before returning to Hogwarts, but Neville made sure to pick up an owl catalogue, so he could order them by post.
Leaving the shop Harry even pointed out the spot where he'd been attacked, and Hedwig had become a phoenix. Neville hadn't heard the whole story before, and Harry still didn't tell it. He didn't want to let on how close to being killed he'd come, but Neville thought he saw a faint red stain on the cobblestones, where Hedwig had lain.
Hedwig, speaking of the bird, still hadn't returned from her post delivery, which Harry was thankful for. If she caught him returning back to Knockturn Alley, especially considering what had happened the last time, she would have been very upset.
A half hour later the two finally entered the brighter and cleaner streets of Diagon Alley, when they literally bumped into the last person Harry expected to see.
"Hey," the person called out from where she had landed on the street. Harry hadn't realized he had knocked into her so hard as to send her to the floor, but he must have. "Watch where you're going!"
"Sorry," Harry said, reaching down to offer his hand. That's when he noticed shockingly colored hair under her dark hood, and the thin, petite form of the person he knew pretty well.
"Tonks! What are you doing here?"
"Wotcher Harry," she greeted him. "Didn't know that was you. Grand to see you and all, but wouldn't a pat on the back be more appropriate than knocking me on my arse?"
Picking her up, Harry smiled. "Oh come off it! I barely touched you. Most likely you tripped over your cloak, and are just using me bumping into you as an excuse."
"Yeah, but it worked, didn't it?" She grinned back. "Who's your friend?"
"Oh, sorry about that. Neville, this is Nymph..., ah, Tonks. Tonks, this is Neville. Didn't you guys meet last year at the Ministry?"
"Shuss, Harry," Tonks got serious all of a sudden. "Not so loud. I'm undercover; hence the dark hood. Don't matter to the bosses I can't bloody well see out of the bleeding thing. Neville, huh? Longbottom, right? You look much different than last time I spotted you. Been working out or something?" As if Neville wasn't blushing enough, Tonks actually reached over to grasp the boy's bicep, and gave it a good squeeze. Being half muggle herself, Harry knew Tonks was undoubtedly aware of what lifting weights and working out did to a person. Likely, she had heard about the training equipment from McGonagall, and was just teasing them.
"Umm," Neville stammered, "a little."
"Looks good on you. Keep it up. So Harry, what are you doing in Knockturn Alley? It's pretty safe during the day, especially today of all days, but a shady place still. Dumbledore would have a fit if he heard you went down there. He's already upset enough I reckon'. Do you really think it's wise to be upsetting him so much?"
Harry frowned. "I don't care what Dumbledore would think of it. Don't you think he should be concerned how upset I get with his fiddling?"
Tonks threw up both her hands in a gesture of indifference. "Hey, don't bite my head off. I'm just asking. Minerva told me and the others what happened when you left school. We had a meeting the next day, and almost nobody believed you actually said those things. Ron and Ginny had explained things to Molly, so she didn't go bonkers, and I think Dumbledore half expected the outcome, but you should have seen the others. Snape was clamoring for your expulsion, and Hagrid didn't know what to do. It's not often that some of us see Dumbledore actually admit to making a mistake, and Hagrid looked like he didn't want to believe it."
That surprised Harry. "Dumbledore actually admitted that he made a mistake? In trying to force me to stay at school? Well, I didn't think he'd finally get the point."
Tonks shook her head. "No Harry, he admitted that it was a mistake to make Minerva try and stop you. He was saying he should have done it himself. A lot of us think what he's trying to do is wrong, but he's only looking out for you Harry. At least he didn't say Snape should have done it. I think Snape's trying to redeem himself from the time you sneaked off during the summer. 'So long sucker!' I don't think I ever saw him more brassed off than that moment!" Tonks was laughing now, and Harry quickly brought Neville up to speed about how he'd escaped from the three under invisibility cloaks when he went to meet Remus.
"That doesn't sound nearly as bad as what I heard went on in that Potions class, Harry." Neville said. "That story sounded a lot worse. I could never stand up to Professor Snape that way."
"What Potion class is this?" Tonks asked eagerly. "Why haven't I heard of this one?"
"Well," Harry admitted with a smile, "it's not entirely the type of story Snape would share with others. I'm sure he punishes students who even mention it." Again, Harry spent a few moments going over the highlights to the time he stood up to Snape in class, and later in Dumbledore's office. That he hadn't told anyone before, as he'd been ordered not to by Dumbledore, didn't even cross his mind. But Harry knew he could trust Neville to keep quiet, and Tonks was an adult, and wouldn't tell anymore students. Who cared if she used the information to tease Snape at Order meetings?
After they all stopped laughing at Snape's humiliation, the group moved to an open bench by the side of the road. It was wrought iron; cold and wet from the snow; but a quick heating charm took care of that problem. So as not to arouse suspicion, Harry let Tonks have the honors.
"That's a great story. But where'd you learn that restraint spell, Harry? It's mighty hard to do, and I only know of a few books that mention it. I didn't learn it myself until third year of auror training, and even then it took me four months to perfect."
"Oh," Harry shrugged, "one of the books I bought had it in it. Remember when I snuck out to Diagon Alley, and all of you were forced to look for me? I bought nearly fifty books that day; a lot of them advanced texts. I've been studying them since." Secretly, Harry was pleased it had only taken him two months to get the spell to work properly. Yes, he no doubt had been devoting more time to training than Tonks had even in auror training, but he still felt good.
"What are you doing here anyway, Tonks. You mentioned you're working undercover. What's that about?"
"Don't you know, Harry? After all, it's because of you I'm out here freezing my tail off. After both Dumbledore and the Minister got a letter from you, a quick Order meeting was called. Two dozen extra aurors were called into work. Some of them are patrolling like normal, and others like me are working undercover. We're here at the Alley, Hogsmeade, the Minstry building, and a few other places. I don't know what you expect to happen, but if something does, we'll be ready.
"I hope no one got angry they had to work on Christmas," Harry admitted. "I just thought it'd be better to be prepared."
"Don't worry Harry; it is. Both Dumbledore and Minster Bones agree obviously, so it's not as if we're all blaming you. Yes, a few aurors were upset at having to work today, but it was more small bickering than real complaints. The only ones called in to work, who weren't already scheduled, are those without families of our own like me. With no wife, husband, or kids; most of us didn't have plans anyway. And personally, I'd much rather be here than at home. My pop made a batch of egg nog the muggle way last night, and it's horrendous. He's forcing everyone to drink it, so it doesn't go to waste. Yuck! I may be cold, but at least I'm sober and not tossing my cookies. Much more preferable, thank you."
"Tossing your cookies?" Neville asked confused. "Is that some sort of muggle holiday thing? Sounds like fun."
Both Harry and Tonks laughed, and Neville blushed embarrassed until then told him what it really meant. He might suffer some slight humiliation, but at least the boy was learning.
"Okay kids, I better be off. Got work to do and all that," Tonks ruffled Harry's hair in a very motherly way, as if she wasn't just a few years older than himself. "Just you be careful. I may not wholly agree with Dumbledore that it's best to lock you up, but it's still dangerous to be out Harry. There's dozens of people looking for you, and it only takes one well-placed curse for things to go horribly wrong. You be careful, and make sure you're off the streets way before it gets dark out. I know you're meeting with Dumbledore soon, so I hope you two come to some sort of arrangement. And for what it's worth, I think Sirius would be thrilled you're selling headquarters. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. Both of us hated that place growing up."
"Okay, and thanks Tonks," Harry said. "You be careful too though. My scar's still hurting, and it's never gone so long before without something happening. We've only got one more stop to make before heading home, but you'll probably be out here all night long. Keep your eyes peeled." No longer did Harry sound like a joyful kid, but he was now being dead serious. Tonks seemed to pick up on his attitude thankfully, and nodded a solemn reply. With Harry confirming his suspicions, she knew something would go down that day. The only problem was; where would it happen?
After Tonks left, and Harry and Neville made their way back to The Leaky Cauldron, Neville asked Harry a little about what headquarters was, and what Tonks had meant.
"Sorry Neville, I can't say much more. Headquarters is the building where the Order of the Phoenix holds all its meetings. Me, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione know about it only because we had to stay there last summer. I'd tell you more, but Dumbledore's got it protected under the Fidelius Charm. That's where I got the idea to use it myself, actually. The building used to belong to Sirius, and he left it to me in his will. I threatened Dumbledore I'd sell it when we had a fight awhile ago, and at the time I only half meant it. But it wasn't such a bad idea, and I'm going through with it. It's one of the things I'll have to take care of after the Weasleys and Grangers visit. I have to meet with Dumbledore, to get him to remove the Fidelius Charm so I can show the place to potential buyers."
"How do you plan on doing that, Harry? No offence or anything, but you can't exactly force Dumbledore to do stuff, you know. He's the most powerful wizard in the world! If he doesn't want you to sell the place, he can surely stop you."
Harry smiled. "Don't worry Neville, I've got some ideas. I've already got some footwork done, and if push comes to shove, I'll be ready. There're a few things about me that can influence even Dumbledore's decisions, and I'm starting to realize how to use that. A year ago I'd be sick with myself; knowing that I'm using my status to get special treatment. But when others don't play fair, I don't feel too bad about it."
Neville wanted to know more, but Harry avoided the rest of the questions, and soon they were through the floo to St. Mungo's, and both boys landed on their two feet. Neville had come through with his promise to Harry, and had taught him how to properly land. It had taken an hour of flooing back and forth between his Hideaway and The Leaky Cauldron, and half his floo powder supply to learn, but now Harry could land with ease.
The secret, Neville had explained, is that Harry had to acknowledge that his body wasn't really landing when he arrived by floo and portkey travel. Instead, it was transformed and moved by magic, and really just ended up in the same position it left in. So all the time when Harry was bending his knees, preparing for the rough landing, and stepping forward, he was really catapulting himself onto the floor. Even when he saw the floo exist, and didn't think the opening was large enough, he had to stay perfectly still, and trust the magic of the system to get him through the hole. Only by not moving, and letting the floo and portkeys do their thing, would he arrive safely.
Once again in the crowded reception room of St. Mungo's, Harry couldn't help but remember back to his first trip the previous year, when he'd come to visit Mr. Weasley after Nagini bit him. With all the people waiting to be seen, and the many personal clothed in lime-green robes, virtually the only difference Harry noticed were that that patients waiting to be seen were different. Even the portrait of Dilys Derwent, a former Hogwart's Headmistres and Healer winked at Harry, just as she had the year before. Harry thought he saw worry in her face as well, but with portraits, you never could tell.
"Fourth floor, right Neville?" Harry tried to remember. He knew Mr. Weasley had been on the first floor, and thought when they went looking for the tea room, and bumped into Gilderoy Lockhart, they had ended up on the fourth, although he wasn't sure.
"Yup," Neville called out. His voice was far away though, and Harry noticed Neville was already expertly navigating the hallways. Hurrying to catch up to him, Harry couldn't help but ask if Neville wanted some time alone with his parents while visiting. Harry was sure he could find the tea room this time around, or otherwise occupy himself while Neville visited. Neville wouldn't have any of that though.
"I'd like you to come," he said, "if you don't mind Harry. I'd like to introduce you, as I never really got the chance to last year. Mum and Dad don't usually respond to anyone anymore, but sometimes new people spark their interest. Besides, I'm sure Professor Lockhart would love to give you more autographs. He's been practicing, you know."
"Oh Merlin," Harry sighed. "Don't tell me he's still here! Hasn't he regained his memory yet? It's been over three years."
Neville laughed. "Not much I'm afraid. I just ignore him when I come to visit. Usually he spends all his time reading his old books, and signing photographs. But by the time he finishes one or another, he's forgotten he did it, and has to start again. At least he'll never get bored. I heard the Healers last year say they were giving him disappearing ink, so they wouldn't have to waste so many photos. He's probably signed each one hundreds of times by now."
By then the duo had reached the Janus Thickey ward, and Neville looked about before drawing his wand and unlocking the door with an Alohomora spell. Harry remembered it was a closed ward, and a Healer had to do the same last time. Neville was eager to walk in, and Harry followed after a deep breath.
The year before, there were only a few occupants of the room. Neville's parents; Harry remembered; plus Mr. Weasley, Lockhart, Bode (who was later killed by a Devil's Snare clipping), and a woman completely covered in fur. Altogether it had been six patients in a room large enough for twenty. Now though, over half the beds were filled, and Harry and Neville weren't the only visitors.
"Neville," Harry whispered, "who are all these new patients. I got the impression that this ward didn't get many new admissions.
"Don't know," Neville answered. "That's Healer Bosworth over there with the blonde couple. She's in charge of this wing. I'm sure she'll come over when she sees me, and we can ask her then."
Harry nodded, but Neville didn't see, as he was already making his way to the back of his room, where the curtains around his parents' beds were still drawn.
Deciding to give Neville some private time, Harry reluctantly made his way over to Lockhart; not knowing what else to do.
"Hello. Do I know you? I'm told I'm a very popular person, so I expect you're a fan. How nice of you to come and visit me."
"Hello Professor Lockhart," Harry sighed. "Nice to see you again."
"Professor you say? Well, how interesting. I don't think I've heard that one before. Taught you everything I know, I expect, did I? How very lucky for you."
The next ten minutes were the longest ones of Harry's life, as he forced himself to pretend to be interested as Lockhart went on about fan mail, and he was forced to accept seven autographed photos of the man. Luckily before Harry had to repeat for the fourth time who he was, Neville waved him over, and Harry made a quick retreat.
"Thanks, Neville. I think I almost liked that man better as a professor."
After that, Neville introduced Harry to both his parents, who were propped up in bed, with blank looks in their eyes. The year before Harry had only seen Alice Longbottom, as her husband had remained hidden behind a curtain. No longer the plump and lively woman in the old photograph Moody had shown him, she had instead been a frail woman with thinning white hair. She didn't look any different now, and her husband looked much the same.
Neville's Dad, while not as thin or unhealthy looking as his mum, had an even more blank look in his eyes. Occasionally Neville's mum would reach out to grasp his hand, or blink and seem almost interested in what Neville was saying. His dad however just remained gazing forward, not even giving a sign that he knew he was there. Neville didn't seem to mind though. He talked on and on about how his year had gone so far, and how much he had changed. He talked about his new wand, being a beater on the Gryffindor Quiddtich team, the dueling practice he had done with Harry, and his advancement in Herbology.
Not for the first time, Harry wondered who had been worse off. Harry; for losing his parents at such an early age, and never knowing them, or Neville; for having only known empty shells of the lively and brave people his parents had been. It wasn't a pleasant thought.
"Hello there, Neville dear! I didn't know you were coming to visit today. You grandmother informed me that she'd be out of the country this year, and I assumed you'd be staying at school. What a nice surprise."
Healer Bosworth had finally made her way over, and interrupted Harry from his depressing thoughts. She looked like a nice enough lady. And with the way she spoke, Harry assumed she knew Neville very well. She'd probably been in charge of his parents for a long time.
"Hello, Healer Bosworth. It's nice to see you. Happy Christmas. I'm staying at a friends' place this year, and I wouldn't miss my visit for the world. Harry, this is Healer Bosworth. Healer Bosworth, this is Harry Potter."
"Oh my," the Healer quirked an eyebrow, "quite the friend you have Neville. Harry, it's nice to meet you. Frankly, with as many stories as I hear, I'm surprised I haven't seen you here before. With all the scrapes you get into, I would have thought you'd be one of St. Mungo's more frequent patients.
Harry smiled. "Thankfully Madam Pomfrey at school is a great Healer, or I have no doubt I would have ended up here. But I've managed to go the whole year so far without a visit. That's a record for me." Harry didn't feel the need to add that he'd been treating his own ailments lately, with the aids of Hedwig and his elvish friends.
"Yes," she answered, "Poppy Pomfrey is a skilled Healer indeed. She trained here, you know, under some of the best Healers of the time. I was a few classes ahead of her in training, but even back then she showed promise. It's nice to know you're not letting her skills go rusty.
The three traded small talk for a few more minutes, and Neville asked for an update on his parents' condition. Not surprisingly, there weren't any recent developments. There hadn't been in over a decade.
"Healer Bosworth," Harry asked once the conversation had slowed, "I was wondering why there are so many patients in this ward this year? Last year there were only five, and even Neville said he's never seen this many before."
The smile had left the old woman's eyes as she answered. "Well Mr. Potter, it's a dangerous time to be living in I'm afraid. With You-Know-You back and all, as I'm sure I don't have to tell you, there's a lot more attacks on the public than normal. It reminds me of the first time around, but luckily it hasn't gotten that bad yet; thank Merlin. Besides Frank and Alice, the rest here are all Dementor victims. Not many wizards and witches have been kissed; mostly muggles so far; but they still end up here when it happens. Poor things."
Looking around, Harry was suddenly struck by how eerie it was to know that. Almost all of the patients in the room were soulless victims, just waiting to die as their bodies slowly deteriorated. Harry had learned in Lupin's DADA class that wizard victims usually lasted a year or two before they expired. Muggles, if they were lucky, lasted half that. Looking around the room, Harry even recognized one of the pale faces. It was Peter Growkins, the Diagon Alley victim besides Amber, who had been kissed. If Harry had bothered to learn their faces, he would have recognized some of the others as aurors who'd been kissed at Azkaban when Voldemort attacked.
Not knowing better, Harry asked, "So this is where the muggle victims of Dementors get sent, too?"
Healer Bosworth nodded. "Yes, but not to this ward. This ward, and another like it, are reserved for wizards only. St. Mungo's has had to expand, and we've added five additional floors for the muggle victims. We've had to disguise them to appear to be a muggle hospital, so their families can come to visit. So far, we've had almost two hundred muggles admitted after being kissed. Three have died so far, as they were very ill when it happened. I'm afraid it's just a matter of time for the rest."
Two hundred? Harry had no idea it was so many already. 'Mr. Weasley must really be having a hard time keeping the muggle authorities calm, with such numbers,' Harry thought.
"I only wish wizard families would visit their loved ones as often as the muggles do. Not everyone is like dear Neville hear. Most people just forget their loved ones when they're admitted to a long-term ward. I'm surprised so many turned out today, frankly. No one had been in all morning, and then all of a sudden everyone's got visitors."
Gesturing with her hand, Bosworth pointed to the many bodies in the room. Harry couldn't see any of their faces; because they had their backs to him; but there were people visiting almost everyone in the room. The blonde couple was still talking to a comatose woman in bed, and there were another five people hunched over more prone patients. They seemed odd though, as if they weren't really interested in the patients. In fact, they were only talking among themselves, while they kept their stares focused on the sick.
"Well," Neville said, "it is Christmas. Maybe they just all thought now is as good of a time as any. I like spending the holiday with my parents, and maybe they feel the same way?
"Perhaps Neville, it's just odd is all. I've been working at this hospital for over sixty years, and I know when something's odd. But then again, it's been so long since we've had so many patients in a single ward, I could just be getting old. Now, I've got to go check up on the other ward. You two have a nice time, and it was nice meeting you Mr. Potter. You're a good friend to come with Neville to visit."
Harry thanked the woman for her kindness, and Neville surprised him by actually reaching out and hugging the departing matron. Apparently it was a practiced hug, because neither she nor Neville blushed or in any other way showed awkwardness.
One she was gone, Neville returned to talking to his parents, while Harry scanned the room. Only the blonde couple were acting in a similar manner to Neville, as they visited with their loved one. The rest of the people in the room were indeed acting strange. Not one moved around the room, and they only talked in hushed tones with each other. Sensing something not right, Harry reached over to his watch, to turn on the special features. He'd had to turn it off as he entered the hospital, as all the spell damage and magical objects were playing hell on its sensors. Now though, Harry pressed the button to engage his shield spell, and turned his Dark Mark detector on too. Once that happened, a jolt so painful Harry almost jumped shot right up Harry's arm. According to his watch, there was a Death Eater in the room. And he or she was mighty close!
Nonchalantly, Harry made his way closer to Neville, and out of the corner of his eye saw the blond couple reach down to hug the person they were visiting. It was apparent they were getting ready to leave, and Harry had no doubt that once they did, all hell would break loose. Most like the rest of the people in the room were Death Eaters; or at least one of them; and they'd been waiting for the Healer and the others to leave. Harry didn't know how they had known to be waiting at St. Mungo's for him in this specific ward, but that wasn't a concern now. Living through the next few moments would be.
"Neville!" Harry fiercely whispered. "Neville, we've got trouble. Don't turn around; just listen to what I say."
Neville had been telling his parents all about the video games he'd scored records on, when Harry interrupted him. At the warning though, he stopped talking cold, and froze with fear. Harry never sounded so serious unless he had reason to. With all the warnings he'd been giving people all day long, Neville knew Harry wasn't joking around.
"There's at least one Death Eater in the room with us, maybe as many as five. Once that blonde couple leaves the room, I think they're going to attack me. So far I don't think they know I've noticed them, and that's our only advantage right now. Five to two odds isn't great, especially when we don't know who they are. I'm going to try to draw their attention, and I want you to stay here. Hopefully someone will hear the fighting, and come to investigate once they do. We've just got to hold out til then. Okay?"
"I can help you Harry," Neville said. He wasn't feeling too brave at the moment, but he knew he couldn't let Harry take on so many Death Eaters with no help. Just like in the Ministry, suddenly he'd been thrown in a situation way out of control, and all he could do now was the best he was able.
"I know you can Neville, but you mustn't. Stay here and protect your parents. They can't dodge or block stray spells, and are helpless. Remember the shielding spells we've learned. If you get the chance to send out a few curses of your own, then fine, but don't leave your parents behind."
Time was running out Harry knew, as he causally observed the couple gathering their things, and closing the curtain around whoever they were visiting. None of the other figures had moved yet; all still had their backs to Harry; and he used the time wisely to look around, trying to figure out how best to make a stand against the Death Eaters. He would have apparated to Order Headquarters in a second to gather reinforcements if he was able, but since Voldemort's attack on Azkaban, increased security had put up anti-apparation wards on every floor.
He and Neville still both had their portkeys, but even that wasn't a perfect idea. Neville's parents would be left behind in the hands of Death Eaters, and that wasn't acceptable. If they were mobile, or even closer together, Harry knew he could have gotten them both to touch his watch, and be whisked away. But they were too far apart in separate beds, and the portkey Harry had made for Neville wasn't large or strong enough to transport more than one person. While it was impossible to follow a used portkey, it was possible to detect the use of one, and Harry had taken that into consideration when making Neville's. The smaller it was, the more difficult to detect, and Harry had made it as weak as possible, while still being able to get Neville out of a tight spot. Now though, that no longer seemed like a good idea. Neville knew about the limitations too, so he didn't even bring up the portkey. Harry could always make another one, but his expertise wasn't yet to the level of Dumbledore's. Harry needed at least five minutes of meditation and concentration to make a portkey, and that was time he was certain he didn't currently have.
Harry's only chance was to stay and fight. Hopefully he could disable or scare off however many Death Eaters had come until security would arrive, and that was the plan he stuck too. The problem was finding a defensible position in the room; away from the other patients; so they wouldn't be struck. It was a large pentagon shaped room, and there was a wall a short ways away with no occupied beds. Harry though that would the best place to fight from, and he'd have to quickly transfigure something to hide behind.
"Remember Neville; stay with your parents. Hopefully they'll be so busy fighting me, they'll forget that you're here at all. If you can send a spell from behind, that's great. Otherwise just stay low and remember to watch the other patients. We don't want to deflect any spells into them."
Neville just nodded, and carefully slipped his wand out of his pocket without drawing attention to it. Already standing between his parents' beds, the only other thing he could do was find something to barricade himself with. Harry suggested he transfigure something the moment fighting broke out, but that had never been Neville's strong suit. Harry just hoped most of the attention would be on himself.
Harry didn't have to wait much longer before the blonde couple said their last goodbyes, and went to the door. The second they crossed the threshold, all five other visitors turned quickly around and lowered their hoods. The closest to the door cast a locking and silencing charm on it, while the four others turned to where the boys had been with their wands drawn. But all they saw was Neville crouched behind a sloppy transfigured stone wall. Harry was nowhere to be found.
"Subefy!" Harry said from his new position, after completing a mad silent dash just before the couple had left. The Death Eaters must not have heard him, because the deep navy blue spell caught them by surprise, and two were immediately engulfed in the spell's wash.
"Looking for me?" Harry taunted the others. Not only did he want to draw the attention away from Neville, but Harry also needed time to collect himself that his spell had been so successful.
Cast with his normal wand, Harry had finally used his modified stunner to apparent success. He'd told Neville a little about the spell during the week of training; and Neville had even volunteer to be a Guinea Pig, but Harry had been reluctant. Now though he was stoked the spell had worked, and that both of the Death Eaters he'd been aiming for had been hit. They had both been standing between two beds, and were so close together Harry couldn't pass up the opportunity to take them out of the game. Now if his stunning spell held (vocally modified in honor of Neville's broken nose at the Department of Mysteries, but not his tenacity), the odds would be three to two; much more favorable.
Harry didn't have time to see who the fallen men were, but of the three left standing, Rodolphus Lestange was recognizable, and apparently the leader. It was him who addressed Harry.
"Well Potter; I see you've learned some new tricks! No matter, you'll still..."
"Mineo Tergum!" Harry yelled out. He didn't care to hear whatever stereotypical bad-guy things Lestrange had to say, and hoped he'd get another spell off before the real fighting began. Lestrange was quick enough to block the spell though, which deflected away and hit an innocent patient's leg. The spell Harry had used cased the skin to bleed out of its pores, and within seconds the man's thigh was bleeding though his hospital gown. Harry reminded himself to treat the wound later if he got the chance, and reminded himself to be sure to cast his other spells above the Death Eater's waists. Any lower, and he might hit one of the beds.
"You'll pay for that!" Lestrange snarled. "You two," he pointed to the others, "revive Blaycock and my brother, and then get the other kid. I'll deal with Potter."
While not an ideal situation, Harry was feeling more confident than before. Hopefully while the others tried to enervate their friends, Harry would be in a one-on-one fight while Neville might even get to take a few pot shots from his hidden position. With any luck he could disable Lestrange quickly, and help with the others before Neville got too flustered.
Without another word, Lestrange summoned a curtain to partition off his comrades, so Harry couldn't see what they were doing. Then he started to cast multiple spells at Harry, who managed to doge and block the first three before the fourth one hit him.
"Extorqueo," it had been, and Harry recognized the spell just as it slammed into his shoulder. Dislocating any joint it touched, Harry's arm was wretched from his socket, and his wand fell to the ground from his limp arm. His vest might have caught some of the spell, but because it didn't have any sleeves, wasn't very effective. Likewise his watch's shield spell was much too weak for such a strong pain curse.
Not having a defense, and not being able to draw his spare wand with his useless arm, Harry dived under an empty gurney for his dropped wand. His left hand was still functional, and Harry thanked himself he had practiced aiming with it. While no where near as accurate or powerful as his normal arm, at least he'd be able to duel.
The moment he hit the floor, the tiled wall behind him exploded in a cloud of dust and grout, and Harry's head was covered with the debris. Not caring though, Harry flipped the gurney on its side for cover, and sent out a barrage of spells in the general direction of where Lestrange had last been. Not wanting to hit anymore innocents, Harry only used disarming and restraining spells at first. He'd only risk something more dangerous if he could clearly see his target.
"You'll pay for that!" Lestrange snarled. "You two," he pointed to the others, "revive Blaycock and my brother, and then get the other kid. I'll deal with Potter."
Neville's face paled with fear as he heard the direction issued by the man he knew responsible for his parents' insanity. "Why do I get stuck facing two Death Eaters, and Harry only gets one?' He thought. There was no way Neville could take on two by himself, even with the stone wall he had transfigured. It was a sloppy job, but inspired by Harry's duel with Rofordit, it was the first thing Neville had thought of. And while not the prettiest thing by far, it was at least solid and sturdy. Not to mention the rebounding charm he'd placed on it would strengthen it as well. Also like in Harry's duel, it had been taught to the D.A. group weeks ago, and Neville was glad he hadn't any problem with it. Later he realized, it might have even saved his life.
Still wondering why the men hadn't attacked him yet, Neville peaked out from behind his shelter to watch the two men trying to revive the fallen. Neville had heard Harry cast what sounded like a standard stunning spell, but the unusual navy color had given away the fact that it was different. 'Must be the personal stunner Harry was talking about,' Neville considered. 'And to think I thought Harry was wasting his time with that!'
Not having any luck, the two men momentarily turned their full attention to downed Death Eaters, and Neville choose that moment to attack. Harry had told him to protect his parents (which he was going to do anyway), but attack if he could manage it. So gathering his Gryffindor courage, he pointed his wand over the wall, and shouted, "REDUCTO!"
It was the most damaging curse Neville knew of, and the resulting explosion was proof enough. Unfortunately Neville had been so quick on the draw he hadn't aimed properly, and the spell flew over both men's heads, hitting a window. It blew the window completely out of the wall actually, and if Neville wasn't so disappointed his spell had missed, he would have been proud of the power. Still some glass and mortar fell on their heads, and Neville saw one of the men with a small cut on his check.
Deciding to return the favor, Neville ducked just in time as a Reductor curse was thrown back at him, but luckily bounced off his transfigured wall, and flew towards the Death Eaters. Again under fire, but this time with warning, one of them managed to deflect the spell up over their heads, so it flew out the hole in the wall.
"Rudolphus, the guys won't wake up!" The Death Eater with the cut check yelled out. "Enervate's not working, and this damn kid's barricaded himself behind a wall!"
"Blow the fucking wall up then," screamed a reply in between more curses that Neville didn't recognize. He hoped Harry was fairing well, but as he hadn't yet heard any screams, and Harry was also yelling spells, Neville knew he was.
"Bloody hell," Neville whispered, ducking another spell that brought him back to the situation. The two Death Eaters had forgotten about their fallen brethren it seemed, and both were now cursing Neville and his barrier. Knowing the rebounding spell wouldn't hold up for long under such punishment, Neville gathered what bravery he could, and pointed his wand again over the wall, adding his own spells to the mix. Mostly he was just blocking the ones that made it over the wall, but he also threw in a few of his own. He managed to trip one Death Eater into the other, and shoot a fireball at them both, which caught on their robes. Both men doused the flames before they could do any damage, but at least it slowed them down. "Harry," Neville pleaded, "please hurry!"
Still on the floor under a gurney, but at least with his wand back in his hand, Harry didn't let up on his tirade of spells until he formulated a plan of attack. The gurney defense wasn't working for him, as Harry had no idea where he was aiming, and he was trapped in a tight space with little room to dodge. His speed and size were advantages in his dueling technique, and Harry had no chance to utilize them from the floor. Knowing there was only one Death Eater to deal with, Harry decided to take his chance with a face to face fight, and banished the gurney right towards Lestrange.
Lestrange was just about to melt the metal gurney down when he realized it was flying straight towards him. Stopping his spell mid-word, he barely managed to get his left arm up in time to swat the table away. The force that it hit his hand with was strong, but only strong enough to recoil his hand a few inches, and cause a sharp sting. When he turned back to face where the gurney had come from, he saw a bright light coming from Harry's wand tip.
"Protego," he called out. He didn't know what the spell had been, but it passed right through his shield, yet seemingly did nothing. Not stopping to praise his good luck, Lestrange counter with a Crucio back at Harry, which was barely avoided.
Harry had dove to the left as the red curse flew where he was standing, and countered right back with Relashio. The flame throwing spell had worked well against Goyle in Diagon Alley, but Lestrange was a lot more talented. He conjured a physical shield that blocked the flames, even if it did melt a little. Harry wasn't concerned though. His last spell had hit through the Death Eater's simple shield, and now he was prevented from casting a stunning spell. And most likely, he didn't even know it!
Harry whipped his wand a few more times with the flame throwing spell still activated, until Lestrange's shield was little more than a dripping mass of metal. But knowing that the barrier wouldn't hold longer, Rodolphus dropped to the floor, banished his shield, and cast a quick Cutting curse at Harry.
Still aiming the fire at a spot above the Death Eater's head, Harry barely had time to notice his spell wasn't meeting resistance, and moved out of the way just as the cutting charm reached him. Managing to avoid the worst of it, Harry's lame arm still took some damage. Each time Harry jolted it, his right arm flailed about in pain, and his dislocated joints rubbed raw against each other. As such, the pain the small but deep cut he received barely registered at all.
"Impedimenta," Harry countered, just before his body landed on its side. His aim had been misjudged though, as he wasn't used to using his left wand when casting, and Rodolphus had almost as fast reflexes as he did himself. The spell flew wide right, and fizzled out on some flowers that adorned a table top. Harry briefly wondered if the spell would let the flowers live longer, but then had to dodge another curse, and was brought back to his senses.
Neville had seen a few flashes of light from beyond the thin curtain that separated him and Harry, but hadn't had any time to think about it as he was busy fighting for his life. Only minutes had passed since Harry had warned him of possible danger, but already Neville was sporting a dozen or so minor injuries, and the two Death Eaters he was facing could make similar claims.
After his conjured fireball, both of his opposition knew they weren't going to get anywhere near Neville's protected position, and they had taken similar cover behind a few beds. It wasn't sturdy like Neville's wall was, but the innocent people occupying the beds were more than enough reason not to blast them out of the way.
Taking the short pause to strengthen his wall and reinforce the rebounding charm (which had almost worn off), Neville had also made sure his parents were alright. Both of them rested at a level far below where his wall reached, and he was relieved to see not even the chunks that had been blown away had exposed them to any stray curses so far.
Until the Death Eaters moved from behind their human barrier, there was not much Neville could do except wait and prepare. Already he was replaying D.A. meetings in his mind, figuring out which spells would be best for the situation. He hadn't nearly the arsenal of spells that Harry had at his disposal, but he still knew more than a typical sixth year student would. Remembering Hermione's favorite spell, Neville jumped out from behind his cover, and began firing bean bags off in rapid fire.
"Contendo Fabopera! Contendo Fabopera! Contendo Fabopera! Contendo Fabopera"
Repeating the incantation almost became a manta for Neville, and the spell worked great because it wasn't highly dangerous, and couldn't be blocked or reflected by magical means. Yes, he had inadvertently hit some of the bed ridden people a few times, but that was only until he had adjusted his aim to hit the Death Eaters instead. The bean bags were painful; but hardly life threatening; and the soulless victims would scarcely notice their discomfort.
Once his aiming issue had been addressed though, all Neville had to do was keep his arm steady, and slightly move his wrist to keep both men under constant fire. His incantations were melting into one long word, and had Neville taken time to count, he would have realized he was firing off shots about the rate of one per second.
It took five times that long for the two Death Eaters to even realize they were under fire. Taking cover behind the ill had seemed like the perfect plan, because they didn't think anyone but fellow Death Eaters would have the nerve or stomach to risk hurting the ill. This kid though; damn him! Not only was he proving to be more powerful and confident than they had been led to believe, but he was also holed up with plenty of cover, and neither of them could get close enough to get a decent shot off.
Once the bean bags started to rain down on them though, it had taken a few hits each to register they were again at a disadvantage, and were now pinned down by spells. The bed they hid behind was open at the bottom, so their feet and legs were left exposed no matter how much they tried to get out of the line of fire.
When Neville noticed that, he did try to send a disarming hex at their legs, but the Death Eaters had cast a protection spell which blocked it. While they might not be able to block the bean bags (they either didn't think of, or weren't able to conjure a physical barrier), they were still aware enough to look for normal magic, and didn't plan on giving up that easily. Not knowing what else to do, Neville switched back to firing his beanbags, and hoped the occasional hits he got on their arms and legs would wear them down.
Rodolphus Lestrange was pissed off, and in a bad way. The plan of simply lying in wait for Harry and his dim-witted friend had seemed so perfect and simple at first, he had been pleased and excited to be given command of the mission. His first mission really, after being released from Azkaban once again by his powerful master. Lestrange knew that with Wormtail's capture and humiliation, Lucius Malfoy's cowardly behavior by claiming the Imperious yet again, and his wife's near insanity, he had a very good shot at become his Lord's most trusted servant. He'd always been devoted yes; that had never been questioned, what with him proudly admitting to the aurors his loyalties to the Dark Lord when captured after the torture and attempted murder of the Longbottoms. Unlike so many who had scrambled and pleaded; traded names and excuses for a chance at freedom; he had proudly remained true, knowing that one day his master would be resurrected even stronger than before, and would come to free him.
And then a year ago it had happened, and everything had seemed perfect. His Lord had informed a trusted few of his plan to enter Harry Potter's mind, and draw him into a trap where he'd finally be out from under Dumbledore's protection. But things had gone so wrong, he'd been sent back to Azkaban, and had almost lost hope. It hadn't been as bad the second time around (with the Dementors gone and all), but Rudolphus was once again separated from his wife and brother. But he knew Voldemort would come and free him once more, and it had happened.
Then young Malfoy had written his father with some surprisingly good news, and a plan had been set in motion. While Draco Malfoy was perhaps spoiled and insufferable like his father was, he no doubt had a talent for eavesdropping.
Earlier in the year he'd overheard Potter tell his friends about the prophecy during a school trip, and the information had been exactly what Vodermort had been waiting to know before wanting to commit to more public attacks. Now, Draco had informed them that Potter wasn't staying at Hogwarts over the holidays, and in fact that he and Dumbledore weren't on the best of terms. No one even knew where Potter was staying; only that he was taking another boy with him. But Draco also knew; through means of blackmailing a young Hufflepuff girl with evidence of her cheating on a test (unthinkable for a Hufflepuff); that Neville visited his mental case parents at St. Mungo's every year on Christmas Day like clockwork. With the knowledge that Potter and Longbottom were staying together, and that they'd be sure to arrive at St. Mungo's at some point without Dumbledore's protection, the temptation was too much for Voldemort to resist. So five worthy men had been given the task of apprehending them, and Rodolphus had been put in charge.
He hadn't counted on the two boys knowing of their presence though, and that was pretty obvious by the quick response each had taken the moment he and his fellow Death Eaters had revealed himself. He was also told that the Longbottom kid was miserable in all aspects of magic, and was the closest thing to a squib they had at Hogwarts. But by the sounds coming from the other side of the room, and the fact that his brother and the others had yet to join in his fight with Potter, Lestrange knew Neville must have had more of his parents in him that young Malfoy had led them to believe. Damn that poncy brat!
Potter himself was intimidating alone, and things were not going as smoothly as they could have. Yes, after the initial stunning spell taking out his brother and Blaycock, he'd gotten the upper hand and injured Potter. But the kid had somehow managed to get his wand back, and surprisingly had no problem wielding it with his left hand. Not many wizards; mostly aurors and hit wizards; could use either hand to cast spells, but Lestrange should have known better than to take this kid for granted. He'd survived four encounters with his master already; a feat none others have ever done; and shouldn't be taken lightly.
So concerned with only Potter, Lestrange had gone on the offensive, and not held back at all with his spell choices. Only the killing curse was not allowed, as his master wanted that pleasure for himself. But with no other hesitation, he cast Crucio after Crucio spell, Cutting Curse after Bone Breaking Curse, and yet the damn Gryffindor still managed to dodge or reflect his spells, and return some of his own.
Lestrange hadn't known what the first one had been, but had found out later when a stunning spell he sent out had seemingly turned his wand flaccid. But other spells worked just fine, so he didn't have much time to think of what had happened.
Rodolphus had also been hit with a flame throwing curse, which he'd only barely managed to block. Kept under the constant assault, his shield had begun to melt, and his hand had stated to burn, before he dropped to the ground to curse Potter from another angle.
He dodged an Impedimenta jinx, but had later been hit with Mineo Tergum, Skeledestruco, and a few minor hexes. The left side of his torso was bleeding, his right knee was shattered thanks to the bone breaking curse, and he'd already had to counter a blindness curse, a silencing spell placed on his vocal cords, hair that had grown down to cover his eyes, and perhaps the most annoying of all, sticking charms that surrounded the floor he was standing on. Not knowing where they were, he was severely limited in his movement, and afraid to be caught in one of the sticky patches.
He'd given as good as he'd gotten though. In between all the dodging and blocking, Lestrange had managed to further damage Potter beyond his gimp arm. A well placed Cutting curse had gotten through to his arm, a bludgeoning spell had caught him in the stomach and knocked the air out of his lungs, and he fired an icicle at Harry's leg with almost no sound, and it had passed though the hastily put up magical shield and imbedded itself into Harry's thigh. Like the conjured bean bags, it too couldn't be blocked by anything other than a physical barrier, and had sliced though Harry's Protego shield like butter. Unfortunately Potter was more prepared the second time around, because when Lestrange saw that his icicle had worked, he tried the spell again. Harry was ready with a conjured shield this time though, and had no problem deflecting the ice. His shield was about two feet in diameter, was circular in appearance, and must have been at least four inches thick. It was one of the advanced shields Harry had learned to use, and for the first time he was putting it into practical use.
Harry was having trouble, and he was more worried now then he'd even been before. Up against only one Death Eater this time, perhaps he'd been too overconfident in his abilities. He thought he'd be able to disarm Lestrange in a matter of minutes, then be able to go help Neville, and perhaps have all five Death Eaters stunned and tied up by the time St. Mungo's security even found out about the attack. But within just the first few seconds; when his wand arm had been hit and rendered lame; things had taken a drastic change.
Now instead of getting the upper hand, Harry was barely hanging on. Only his quick reflexes had let him last as long as he had. Already he'd been hit with multiple serious curses, and he was quickly tiring. Lestrange too was slowing down, but with possible reinforcements only feet away, Harry knew the Death Eater was in a much better position than he was.
Now with a conjured circular shield on his forearm to block the icicles Lestrange had been lucky enough to get past his shield, Harry resorted to using another advanced spell to hopefully end things.
"Parabolas Umbo!"
With his physical shield still in place on his forearm, another type formed out the end of his wand. Only eight inches in diameter; the shield was a bright yellow in color, and had a concave shape to it. Like the name implied, it was actually a parabola shaped shield; one that was very hard to use, but one that could reflect even immensely powerful spells back at an attacker. Just like satellite dishes in muggle technology concentrated radio and satellite signals to a central focal point, the shield Harry had conjured also reflected any spells it captured back to a single point. This time however, the spell was sent right back to where it came. Used against an enemy, it sent spells right back to the end of an opponent's wand.
The only downside to the spell, and the reason why it was hardly used other than in extreme circumstances, was that the shield's diameter was so small, it took great accuracy and bravery to be able to move the shield in the path of most spells. Going against instinct, the user actually has to move his body into the direct path of the spell. If the user missed even by a fraction of an inch, then the spell would pass the shield, and there'd be no other defense. When Harry first read of it, he compared it to the muggle sport of baseball. It was like trying to catch a spell in the palm of your hand. One wrong move or miscalculation, and the game would be over.
Wearing himself down though, with a whole arm out of commission, Harry didn't know what else to do. A few more minutes of normal defense and he wouldn't be able to stand, much less raise his wand. With his parabola shield though, Harry thought he might be able to surprise and hit Lestrange with one of his own spells. Unlike all the other shields he knew of, this one directed spells back with a hundred percent accuracy. There was no chance for the spell to be sent off at an angle, or three feet over his head, as long as he managed to place his mall silver shield directly in the path of every spell. Protecting the bed-ridden patients was also a concern of his, and this shield would ensure their safety. Now all Harry had to do was master his accuracy. Anything less than perfection wouldn't be good enough. He still had his physical shield on his forearm in case any more icicles or conjured objects got thrown his way, but he knew that too would wear out soon. He also had to continue to dodge Cruciatus spells, as he knew nothing could block those. He might be able to overcome the pain if he got hit, but Harry wasn't looking forward to that happening. One way or another, this duel would be ending soon.
Christopher Parkinson had had enough of being hit with those blasted bean bags! For nearly three minutes now he and his companion Conrad had been hiding behind a group of beds from the constant onslaught, and hadn't managed to make any kind of leeway. Every time they rose out from behind their cover, that damn wall just spat back whatever spell they managed to shoot at it. What's more, is that they each managed to be hit by a small hex or series of bruises from those annoying bean bags for their effort.
Tired of the situation, Chris got an idea. It was drastic, but they'd only been told not to kill Potter. The other kid wasn't mentioned, although it was implied that he was wanted alive. But if killing him meant they'd get out from behind the beds they were using, and could then go and help Rudolphus with the Potter punk, then Chris thought the risk was worth it.
"Conrad, listen up," he whispered. "I'm sick of this shit. On the count of three, we're going to both stand up, and blast that fucking wall to hell! Avada Kedavra full force from both of us will ensure that. If the kid dies, who fucking cares anymore? Got it?"
Conrad Jenkins wasn't too thrilled about using a lethal spell when he'd been specifically told not to, but against a wall instead of a living person, he didn't mind. He as well was sick of being bitch slapped by the cheap bean bags, and by the sound of things from across the room, Rodolphus could use their help.
"Sounds good to me," he agreed. "Let's teach this kid a lesson!"
Neville had no idea whatsoever what his enemies were preparing to do. So you can imagine the surprise he showed when on the count of three, both of the Death Eaters rose from their covered position, and cast matching green spells right towards him. Knowing what that color signified, and being able to hear the curse shouted at him clearly, Neville lost control of his bladder as he threw himself to the floor; hoping that maybe his parents would make it through the attack alive. He just thanked Merlin that his death would be painless, unlike their torture had been.
With a sickening boom, his meager stone wall was blown apart into nothing more than dust and gravel. Under the power of both Unforgivables, the wall never stood a chance, even with its rebounding curse in place. Nothing was able to block Avada Kedavra! In fact, an outline of where the barrier had been was burnt onto the tile wall behind where Neville's parents were left exposed. The only other thing in sight was the slumped form of Neville Longbottom. His wand was blown out of his hands, blood was running out of his ears, and to the observation of both Death Eaters who went to check on him, he wasn't breathing either.
Neville Longbottom was dead.
Seeing that they had one less threat to deal with, Chris and Conrad wasted no time tearing down the thin curtain separating them from Harry and Lestrange. So far Harry had been managing a good job with only his two shields to rely on for both defense and offence. But faced with three separate opponents attacking from three different angles, he didn't have a change.
Harry only lasted another thirty seconds before a disarming spell hit him unaware, and his wand went sailing away to Conrad's hand. Still not being able to reach his second holster with his uninjured left hand, Harry was left helpless with only his physical shield to defend himself. He only got to block a single spell before a Reductor curse blew it out of his grip, and the Death Eaters surrounded him.
"Not so tough now, are you Potter? Without all your little tricks?"
"Tough enough to out duel you, Lestrange!" He snareld. "If my arm wasn't injured, this would have all been over a long time ago."
Taking a step forward, Rodolphus let loose with a vicious backhand slap that snapped Harry's whole head around. Made with such force that it would be leaving a red impression on his face, Harry still refused to scream out in pain or look away. After all he had done, the least he could do was die like a man.
"Hold him down," Lestrange ordered the other two. "I don't think out master would mind if we rough him up some before we deliver him. After the pain in the arse he's been, I think it's the least of our rights."
Conrad and Christopher each moved to take Harry's arms, and the more Harry tried to struggle in their grasp, the more his aches and injuries screamed out for him to stop. Knowing he couldn't overcome them physically, Harry had no choice to stop his struggling and relent. And any thoughts of using his emergeny portkey were laid to rest, because Harry had no wish to take the Death Eaters with him to his sanctuary, and leave his wand and Neville behind. Noticing the other two were alone though, brought another question to Harry's mind.
"Where's Neville? What did you bastards do with Neville?"
"You mean that other kid?" On of the two Harry didn't know asked. Harry nodded, with fire in his eyes.
"That prick put up a better fight than we'd thought. Malfoy's kid told us he'd be easy to overcome. I'm gonna slap that kid if I ever see him again. I don't care if he is supposedly dating my sister. Longbottom had us both pinned down from behind whatever wall he conjured up. Near-squib my ass! I'm going to have bruises for weeks thanks to all those fucking bean bags! We had to resort to cursing him and the whole wall just to get out from where we were hiding. Damn near destroyed the whole area."
"What did you end up using?" Lestrange asked. "I heard a huge explosion, but was otherwise occupied. Potter's not bad with a wand. Shame he'll never get to use it again."
"Had to AK the wall; no other choice. I know we weren't supposed to kill either of them, but I didn't care at the moment. Potter's still alive though, and I think that should please the Dark Lord enough.
"Neville's dead?" Harry asked. No! He couldn't believe it. Not so soon after Amber! Not after Sirius and Cedric! Not another one of his friends!
"Wasn't breathing," the other man replied. He was talking more to Lestrange to fill him in on what had happened than to answer Harry's questions, but didn't care who heard. "Didn't know if he'd be hurt hiding behind that wall or not, but I guess under two Avada Kedavras, he didn't stand a chance. That wall got blown to smithereens. Nothing left of it but dust."
"You sodding bastard! I'm going to fucking kill you!" Harry had lost complete control. Faced with another death, Harry's suppressed guilt of the others he'd lost came flooding to the surface, overwhelming his senses. Now all he wanted to do was take down a few of the people who were responsible. It didn't matter if he lived or died, as long he took some Death Eaters with him.
Harry didn't even feel the pain in his right arm as he flailed and fought with all his might, trying to get loose of the strong grips he was in. For his troubles though, all he got was a swift punch to the gut.
"Stop your fighting! Don't you know when you've lost?" Another hit to his stomach, and this time a closed fist punch to the face hit Harry hard. Starts formed in the corner of his vision as he tried to shake the cobwebs.
When he finally regained his focus, Harry proudly raised his head in defiance. Not knowing any way free, he'd at least piss these guys off as much as possible.
"I haven't lost yet," he said to them. "Once you bring me to Voldemort, he'll make some mistake somehow, and I'll escape again. I always do, just ask him."
"Show some proper respect when talking about your betters," Lestrange yelled. "No one refers to the Dark Lord by name! No one!"
The next few moments passed by with a blur of hits and kicks to Harry's body. The session was much like what Avery had done to him in Diagon Alley, only this time Harry had three people attacking him, and none of them were using magic. The two goons on his sides had to pocket their wands to hold him with both hands, and Rodolphus seemed to like beating him up the muggle way, perhaps enjoying using his superior strength and size over Harry. Unlike in their previous duel, this time he now held the decisive advantage.
It wasn't until Harry had three cracked ribs, a broken nose, two black eyes, a cut open lip, and had lost his breakfast after a particularly violent kick to the gut, that the Death Eaters paused in their attack. It was time to go, they said, and Lestrange started to look for an object to turn into a portkey. Before that could happen though, the strangest sound rang out clear throughout the room. Strange to the Death Eaters at least. For Harry, it was a beacon of hope.
"Hedwig!"
Out of nowhere she appeared in a flash of white and golden flames, and like she'd done to Malfoy weeks earlier, she began to dive at the Death Eaters, using her sharp talons to dig and claw at the ones holding Harry. But never once did she stop singing, and her song was inspirational. While Harry's pains were eased, and he began to find a hidden cache of strength, the three others were cowering in fear; not clearly thinking. Chris and Conrad still had a firm grasp on Harry, but not once had they thought to draw their wands. Rodolphus Lestrange was busy trying to fend off Harry's feathered friend, as he was her main target. Harry knew he ought to make a move to escape soon, and thought all he had to do was to reach Hedwig, and she'd be able to teleport him away. Before he got the chance to move though, something else equally as wonderful happened.
Neville came out running, screaming like a banshee from a hidden ruble pile, headed straight towards Lestrange. What was even better, is that he was brandishing a bed pan like a beater bat. With his arm drawn as far back as he could bring it, Harry heard the sound it made when it connected with Lestrange's head.
"Take that you son of a bitch!" Neville screamed as he hit the Death Eater. The bedpan must have been hastily grabbed from under a patient's bed, because unfortunately for Lestrange, while being knocked unconscious, he also got covered with a disgusting spray of shit and piss. Some of it landed at Harry's feet too, but he didn't care.
Knowing a better chance wouldn't come around, Harry shifted all his weight to his left, and managed to knock one of his guards down to the floor. With a quick kick, Harry caught the man right in his face. He expected to be pulled off by the last remaining Death Eater, but Neville had once again come through in a jam. No longer armed with a bedpan, but not having his wand either, Neville attacked the last enemy the only way he knew how. In the D.A. meetings physical defense had never been Neville's strong suit. Ron and a few others had taken to it naturally, but Neville had trained mostly with his new wand. His width and strength though made him a formidable adversary, and Chris Parkinson was finding out the hard way.
Neville managed to land a few sloppy blows before Chris dropped his grip on Harry and reached for his wand. Neville managed to hit him one last time before he lost balance in a failed right hook, and fell to the floor. Chris then had his wand out in no time, and was conjuring bean bags much to his delight. He didn't know the proper spell to launch them at such high velocities, but at point blank rage, Neville was still getting a beating.
"Hoes does it feel, you shite! Not too pleasant, is it?"
Chris didn't get a chance to say much more though. Harry had fallen to the ground once released, and managed to worm his right boot off, and get to his spare holster. Now with Hedwig's wand in hand, Harry wasted no time stopping the attack.
"Stubefy!" Then, turning to Lestrange and a waking Conrad, he repeated his spell. "Stubefy! Stubefy!" Harry hadn't even noticed the increased width and power of the spell, he was so relieved the fight was over with. He might have some broken bones and injuries to take care of, but all five Death Eaters were incapacitated, and Neville was alive! Not bad, all things considering.
"Neville, you okay?" Harry asked. They both rested a full minute on the ground before either gathered their breath enough to talk, but when Neville answered back, it was with relief and pride in his voice.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I had two killing curses launched at the wall I was hiding behind, and it got destroyed completely. I think I passed out, but I woke up very weak and hurt. I heard them talking to you and hitting you, but I couldn't stand up. I'm sorry, Harry. But then I thought I heard Hedwig singing, and suddenly I felt loads better. I was able to stand, but couldn't find my wand. So I grabbed the first thing I got my hands on, and came running out. I saw what they were doing to you, and it reminded me too much of what my parents must have gone through. I wouldn't let that happen. I guess we got lucky though, huh?"
"You can say that again," Harry laughed. But it hurt too much to laugh, and soon Harry was coughing up blood for his troubles. "Ouch, don't make me laugh Neville. It hurts too much."
Another few minutes passes before both boys caught their breath, and were well enough to stand. Both boys recovered their misplaced wands. Hedwig donated a few tears to Harry for his serious injuries, and soon Neville had the five Death Eaters all piled up in a corner. Harry called Dobby to clean up the room so there wouldn't be evidence of a fight, and right then Harry was thinking how he could get the five Death Eaters into his jail cell without Neville noticing.
"Harry? Why hasn't anyone come to find out what all the noise was about? It's been at least ten minutes since this all started, and we must have made a racket! I thought by now security would have shown up."
That was a good question, and once again with his normal wand in hand, Harry cast a few ward detection spells to find out why they hadn't been interrupted yet. It didn't take long to find out why. Harry had forgotten that when the blonde couple left the room, one of the Death Eaters had locked the door and silenced the room. The answer was as simple as the silencing spell still being up. With another sweep of Harry's wand, that too was undone.
"I think we should call security now Harry," Neville said. "But what will we do with my parents?"
"What do you mean, Nev? They didn't get hurt, did they?"
"No," he answered, "but I can't very well leave them here! You-Know-You must have found out that I'd visit my parents today somehow, and that you'd be with me. Now that the Death Eaters failed, what's to stop him from sending more people? My parents mean the world to me Harry! It doesn't matter that they can't remember who I am, or take care of themselves. You-Know-Who's bound to be upset over this. And if I were him, I'd send some more Death Eaters to try this again. I know Hermione's house and the Burrow are all protected during the year, but what about here? Do you think the Order can cast some protection wards, or maybe set up a guard for my parents? Because if they're not willing, then I'm staying right here, even if I have to sleep in the same room!"
"Calm down," Harry soothed his friend. "We'll work something out Neville, I promise. I'm not sure if the Order has enough people to send a full-time guard though. They could have been moved to Headquarters, except I'm selling the place in two days."
Then with a light bulb going off over his head, Harry smiled to himself with an idea. "What if we moved them somewhere else? Do your parents need any special treatment, Nev?"
"Err, no, I don't think so," he guessed. "I know they need to be turned a few times a day so they don't get bedsores. And the few times a week they go for a walk, they need to be supervised so they don't get lost. Other than that though, I'm not sure. We'd have to ask Healer Bosworth."
"Why don't you go out and get her then," Harry prodded him. Neville had managed to get the blood and dirt out of his face, and besides a few tears in his robes, and some bruising under them, he didn't show much evidence of being in the fight of his life. Harry was in nowhere near similar condition. He still had a gapping hole in his leg where an icicle had hit, then melted. The bleeding had stopped, but it still hurt like hell. He also still had a dislocated arm, a split lip, black eyes, a broken nose, and multiple curses up and down his body. Harry would need some quality time with his potion supply and Hedwig before he'd venture going out in public.
Neville was puzzled by Harry's request, but left anyways. The second he was out the door however, Harry called Dobby over from where he was mopping the floor. Within minutes, the hospital ward was looking better than it ever had.
"Dobby, I need you to get my trunk from the Hideaway real quick. Get it, and come straight back here. Okay?"
"Dobby be going right nowsy Mr. Harry Potter sir, if it being what sir is wanting." Then not waiting for a reply, he snapped his fingers, and returned a minute later. This time Harry's familiar trunk was in tow, and Harry wasted no time throwing the seventh compartment open, and tossing the stunned Death Eaters inside. He had to act quick before Neville returned, so he didn't bother securing them in a cell. Besides, they had been stunned by his personal stunner, and there was no way they were waking up until Harry did it himself.
Not a second after Harry shrunk his trunk and pushed it into his back pocket, did Neville return not only with Healer Bosworth, but two security guards as well. Neville must have told them about the Death Eaters.
"Good lord, child! What on earth happened here? Neville said that there was some sort of an attack?"
Harry had hoped that Neville hadn't mentioned the Death Eaters at all, but without telling him why not, knew that at best it was a long shot. Now, Harry knew he'd have to resort to drastic measures.
"Um, we were attacked," Harry admitted, "but the Death Eaters escaped. Neville and I are both fine, but I think you should check on Neville's parents. Why don't I fill in the guards on what happened?"
Neville was about to complain about the escaped criminals, when Harry caught his eye and pleaded with him not to say anything more. Neville knew after stunning them al individually, there was no way they could have escaped. But Harry's look was a look few could misinterpret. So Neville reluctantly agreed; perhaps because he too was eager too check on his parents' condition.
There was nothing wrong with them luckily; or at least nothing more than usual. And while Neville and Healer Bosworth had been occupied with the Longbottoms, Harry took the time out to tell the guards briefly what had happened. Five Death Eaters had attacked them, two had gotten stunned right away, and after a long battle with both sides getting cursed, the five had used a portkey to leave before St. Mungo's security arrived. It wasn't the truth per say, but Harry had no intentions of telling anyone he was still in possession of the captured Death Eaters. The situation of securing Azkaban had still not been resolved, and Harry wasn't about to let five more Death Eaters; two of which were the Lestrange brothers and therefore in Voldemort's inner-circle; have the opportunity to escape.
When the guards had a good enough description of what had happened, they left the room, presumably to report the incident to the Ministry and to call for aurors. Harry wanted to be gone long before that happened, so he made his way over to where Neville and Bosworth were, still thinking about the plan forming in his head.
"So, everything okay here?"
It was. Healer Bosworth would have a little work to do treating those patients who'd been hit with stray spells and bean bags, but no injury was serious. In fact, as soon as Harry went to join them, she immediately noticed his dislocated arm, and insisted on treating him. Not only was his shoulder again out of its socket, but his elbow too was likewise affected. The Extorqueo curse had done a fine job on him, and Harry argued a good few minutes before allowing the healer to pop his joints back in their sockets. Healing the injury hurt just as much as causing it had been, but at least when she was done, Harry could once again move his arm. It still hurt, and would continue to hurt for a few days, but the worst of it was healed.
After his arm, Bosworth also got him some blood replenishing potion, and general pain relief potions for both him and Neville. By then she'd learned Neville had been the victim of two killing curses, and only the rebounding curse on his conjured wall had dispelled the deadly Unforgivable enough to not kill him outright. She confirmed his heart had stopped beating for a second, and then had been revived not long after. Only Hedwig's phoenix song had healed him enough to be able to sit up and move. Like Harry, he'd be sore and tired for a few days, but would make a full recovery.
"Okay then boys, let's check you into a ward. You'll need to stay the night for observation, but should be fine in the morning."
"Healer Bosworth," Harry said. If she was anything like Madam Pomfrey, this wouldn't be a pleasant conversation. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather leave now, than stay and be admitted. Those Death Eaters were after me, and I'd hate to cause the hospital more risks. I've got two house-elves at home who are more than familiar with treating my injuries, and if I only need to stay for observation, I'd just as rather do it at home where I know I'll be safe. Neville's welcome to stay with me as well."
"I'm staying with my parents Harry, I already told you that." Neville didn't sound like he was going to budge on the matter.
"I know Nev," Harry smiled, "that's what I wanted to talk to Healer Bosworth about. I was thinking your parents could come to stay with us too. You know that extra flat I have? I think we could set it up just for them, and Dobby and Winky could look after them. We're both worried about their safety here, and if we took them with us, then there'd be no chance Death Eaters would be able to get to them again."
Harry was pleased with the misty look in Neville's eyes. Harry knew that look well; it was longing. Not bothering for Neville to agree (really he already had), Harry turned his attention back to Healer Bosworth who was looking flabbergasted.
"Neville's already told me that they both need to be supervised when out of bed, and have to be turned a few times a day to prevent bedsores. I've got two capable house-elves, one who already has experience taking care of a bed-ridden wizard. Just tell me what else they need, and I'll be sure to provide it."
Before Bosworth even considered letting the Longbottoms out of her care, she brought up a load of legal and medical reasons why it wasn't possible. But the fact still remained that as much as she didn't want to let them go, she had no right to keep them. Legally Neville wasn't of age to make such a decision, but as his Grandmother was unavailable out of the country, and there were no other relatives who could argue the decision in her stead, Neville's wish was the only one that mattered. As long as his Gran contacted the hospital in the next week to approve the transfer, there was nothing more Healer Bosworth could do.
So reluctantly she told Harry, Neville, and a still present Dobby detailed instructions on how to care for the invalid Longbottoms. Mostly it was just maintaining watch and keeping them comfortable, but there were also a few nutritional potions that they required so their health and muscle tone wouldn't further deteriorate. Dobby listened to all the details to share with Winky, but Harry made sure to write them all down himself on a spare piece of parchment just in case. Not that he didn't trust Dobby and Winky, but there was a far cry between caring for two living people, and sweeping the floors twice a day.
After a last plea to change their minds, Healer Bosworth left the room after hugging Neville again and wishing him luck. She called down to the ground floor to arrange transportation for the bed-ridden Longbottoms, but when she returned to the room a moment later, they were all gone. Little did she know Harry had turned a spare linen into a portkey, and used it to take everyone and even the Longbottoms' few possessions to his Hideaway.
The portkey arrived in Harry's basement as usual, and through a bit of magical expansion, everyone was able to fit in the lift. When pressing the thirteenth floor button Harry briefly wondered if the Longbottoms could see it, but the thought left his mind quickly. Neville was crying tears of happiness, and the expression on his face was enough thanks for Harry. He knew he was doing the right thing.
"Where the hell have the two of you been?" Harry heard the second the lift doors opened. He knew it was Remus, but not able to see him yet, Harry waited until the Longbottoms got pushed out the doors before even thinking of how he'd answer that question.
"Neville? Harry? What the hell is going on here? Aren't these Neville's parents? What, did you smuggle them out of St. Mungo's?"
Turning to Remus, about to laugh in his face, Harry was stunned when he realized he wasn't the only one who looked battle weary. Remus was pale and tired, and if Harry didn't know better, he would have thought the full moon was soon approaching. His robes were torn more than usual, and like Harry and Neville, they had blood staining them in places. Apparently St. Mungo's wasn't the only place to be attacked that day
"What happened to you?" Harry asked simply. "You alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine, but what about you?" Remus had calmed down some, but was still nervously running his hands though his thinning hair. "After I got your note this morning, I've been trying to find you. It seems like your intuition was right. We managed to confirm that Voldemort had something planned for today, so the Order and Ministry sent out every available person they could afford. Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, the Ministry lobby, and Azkaban were all attacked simultaneously this afternoon. It was through sheer dumb luck and your warning that let us get prepared.
"We managed to capture four Death Eaters at Azkaban before they called off their attacks. Only a few of our people got seriously hurt, and thankfully nobody died. A few people got kissed at Hogsmeade, but it could have been a lot worse. Harry, Dumbledore and the Order have been searching for you for the last hour! I wasn't worried at first, but when I flooed here and no one was home; I panicked! Dumbledore said the best I could do was come back and wait. Then Dobby pops off to nowhere, he won't tell me what's going on, and now you appear looking just as beat up as I feel, and with the Longbottoms to boot! Will one of you tell me please what has happened?"
Harry opened his mouth to explain, but didn't know where to begin. Healer Bosworth had taken care of his shoulder and given him a few potions, but he still had more than one injury left to take care of. He hurt too much right then to even begin to try to explain, and turned to Neville instead.
"Neville, would you mind telling Remus what happened? I've got to take some potions, and I need a bath as well. I'm sore, and I'm dirty, and I'm bloody, and I'm tired. Maybe Remus can help settle in your parents? Dobby and Winky should have some furniture and lodgings set up by now. We can make more permanent changes another day. I think once all that's taken care of, we all need to have a talk. I've a lot of things to explain to both of you. This is going to be a long night."
Leaving both others with their mouths open in protest, Harry walked off to his suite, craving a hot bath. As if the day hadn't been eventful enough, he knew he'd soon have to let his two friends in on some secretes. They had earned his trust, and there wasn't much of a choice anymore.
Author Note:
This chapter is one half of my original Ch. 24, but I decided to split it up as it was so long. At over 59 MS Word pages in 10 pt. type, with almost ten pages of non-stop action, it was just too much to read for most people at one sitting. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised that at 59 pages, and 40,000 words, this is was longest chapter in HP fanfic history! I never claimed to be a brilliant action writer, so I hope I did a good job. Lately everyone's been talking about the action scenes Joe6991 writes, and I know there's no way I can compete with that. His fics are very war-like and action driven though, and mine isn't like that, so I hope you all can accept our differences.
I also hope I fooled a lot of you into thinking I killed Neville! Ha! I laugh in your face! J/K, but let me fill all of you in on what has happened. Some members in my Yahoo! Group were bothering me about posting a new chapter (surprise, huh?), so I decided to have a little fun with them. Days ago I posted a "cookie" of this chapter, which was the action sequence in which Nev died. Needless to say, they were all shocked and outraged that I'd kill off yet another person, and were begging me to tell them I was just joking around, and that Neville wasn't really dead. Well, I lied out my ass, and told them I was serious. So like I said, ha, joke's on you. That will teach them next time to prod me for a quick update.
Just a few things I want to say. About my short explanation about religion in wizarding culture; I have no idea what I'm writing about. As a non-practicing Jew, the only things I know about Christmas and Christianity are what I've seen in movies, learned from TV, and read in a few books. Likewise, I won't even begin to speculate how religion in the fictional wizarding world begins to work. I just thought the idea of Chris Cringle as a wizard was cute, and could be worked in well. I don't even think I'm the first person to write that, although I can't remember who the others have been. But I don't want to be called a pagan or anything just as silly for writing that wizards have no religious beliefs. Just like most other things I write about, when in doubt I've been writing about my own life. I don't have any strong religious beliefs (God? What God?), so I made Harry and the others not have any either. Just take comfort that it was only a short scene, and won't be a large part of my story. I've read only one fic that I can remember which explored religion in the wizarding world, and it was quite good. So for any interested readers, check out "The Next Dance" by Aerie22 at Schnoogle. It's a sequel to "Let's Dance," and is very good. Lots of fluff and romance, but action and adventure as well. Slow updates, but no author is perfect.
What else? Ah yes...hope I didn't gross anyone out with the joke about Dobby and Winky's sex life, but I thought it too funny to pass up.
Anything else I can remember to say I'll post in my Yahoo! Group, and I'll also be having a live chat there soon. I've also got a new fic "The Best of a Bad Situation" which is being published at It's a short, smutty NC-17 piece I couldn't get out of my head, and I hope a few of you will take a look. I guess it's my way to keep PoT PG13; by writing pure smut somewhere else. That's all for now though, and I hope to make two updates in November.
Oh, and as I've taken to do lately, all review responses to my last chapter are posted in the "files" section of my Yahoo! Group. I think likes it that way, and so do most of my members. Joining is free and easy, so stop by and take a look. Link is on my bio page; just click on "homepage" to get there. Later!
Ross