Wow, this chapter turned out a little darker than I expected. I needed to start moving the plot forward, and I planned for this…event… to happen, but it sort of ran away from me in a manner I wasn't quite expecting. I think it turned out well, though. This won't be a fic of fluff and lightness, although it also won't be full of angst and hatred either. There's a war on, don't you know?
I apologize for the time between the last chapter and this. I won't promise something I can't fulfill, however, so I can't promise that the next will come sooner. I think it should, and the next chapter is pretty fully fleshed out in my head, but… Real life comes first, unfortunately.
I also apologize for the cliffhanger at the end. It was just the right place to end the chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
It was an annual tradition of theirs to go looking for Harry Potter on Halloween morning. The five wizards were never really Death Eaters, as such. Although they would never admit it out loud, they were barely footnotes on the pages of the Wizarding War, auxiliaries of the Death Eaters whose names the Dark Lord probably didn't even know.
Nonetheless, every year on Halloween since that day nine years previously when the Dark Lord had vanished, the five wizards got together and tried to find the "Boy-Who-Lived," and teach him a lesson for the gall to stand up to the Dark Lord.
By this point, none of them truly believed they would be able to find the boy – their tracking spells hadn't worked for the last nine years, after all. Instead, this was merely a convenient chance to get out from under the thumbs of their wives for a day or so and get some enjoyment in the Muggle world. Ordinarily, after casting the tracking spell on Halloween morning, the quintet would wander into the Muggle world, and enjoy themselves. It was just added fun that the Muggle fascination for costumes deterred any suspicion of the men in odd clothing until it was too late.
Only one of the wizards was a true Pureblood – a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The other four had Muggle ancestry somewhere in their family tree – a Mudblood grandmother, a Muggle father, a Squib for a grandfather, a Mudblood mother. The exception, Harold Greene, was the illegitimate son of two Pureblooded parents. Neither parent acknowledged him, however, as the scandal for the Averys and Rowles would have been terrible had it been widely known that the youngest daughter of the Avery line had an affair with Thorfinn Rowle, since both were married, and not to each other. He still wore the shield of the Rowles' on his robes, however. Whether it was intended as a slight to the Rowle family, or a recognition of his blood, none of the other four knew.
Harold Greene (who had taken that last name from the servant family who had raised him) was the undisputed leader of the little group. Partly because of his Pureblood roots, but more because of his commanding presence and arrogance.
Thus, when the five wizards set up their spell in a Muggle graveyard in Uxbridge, directly west of London, it was Harold who supervised while the other four set it up. Strictly speaking, the rituals and elaborate set-up weren't necessary, and nor was the graveyard. It would have been just as effective to just cast a spell from one of their homes, without the need for any of the runes, skulls or chanting. But Harold Greene had a keen sense of the dramatic, and the tradition was somehow less without the extra pieces.
In any case, on Halloween morning, before the sun had even risen in the sky, the five wizards set up their spell in this small graveyard, complete with runes draw on the dirt, seven candles set equidistant around the center, and some bones which had been taken from one of the graves. While Harold began the actual spell, the other three drew their wands and began chanting.
Just as it had for the last eight years, a glowing hand appeared, one finger pointed outwards with the rest clenched tight. And, just as it had for the last eight years, the hand swung wildly around, not focusing on any one spot.
Harold sighed and turned away. "Well, it looks like…"
"Harold, look!" exclaimed Jak Halton, staring at the hand.
Harold spun back around, to see that the hand was no longer swinging in all directions. Now, it was pointing southwards, moving back and forth in an arc towards the south. It was vibrating tensely, straining against…something.
The five wizards watched, stunned. This had never happened before. It was the most reaction they had gotten out of the tracking spell in all the years they had done this. It still didn't seem to be able to directly point out the boy, but it gave them a direction, more than they had ever had.
Even as they watched, the hand shuddered again, seemingly pushing against something, and then, with a slight burst of light, stopped vibrating. It hung in the air, the finger outstretched pointing towards Harry Potter.
Harry and Millie, at that very moment, were both sitting in Millie's room at the Bulstrode's house, getting ready to go to school. Halloween fell on a Wednesday that year, and their school was having the students put on a Halloween parade, where all the children would show off their Halloween costumes to their parents.
During the summer, the Bulstrodes had cleared out one of the studies on the second floor for Harry to stay in when he stayed with them instead of the Dursleys. As Mrs. Bulstrode had said, the pair was old enough that it wasn't right or proper for Harry to sleep in Millie's room anymore. Harry had been so happy about having his own room that he had given Mrs. Bulstrode another hug. Although she still didn't really look like she knew how to react to that, it wasn't as if Harry himself had very much experience with hugs either.
Harry had begun to sleep in his new room at the Bulstrodes' most nights, instead of going home to the Dursleys. The Dursleys had protested at first, upset that Harry was no longer doing chores for them in the morning, but the prospect of having that 'freak' out of the house overcame any reluctance they had. When school had started up again that September, Harry had stopped returning to the Dursley's house at all, and they hadn't said a word about it.
At the moment, however, Harry wasn't really thinking about his old cupboard at the Dursleys, or his new room at the Bulstrodes. He was focused entirely on the decision of what costume to wear to the school parade. Millie's initial idea of being a witch and a wizard had been shot down immediately by the Bulstrodes, who had explained that it was cutting a little too close to breaking the International Statute of Secrecy. Harry, after Millie had explained what that meant, hadn't really agreed, but a no was a no, and there was no point in arguing further.
With their first idea no longer an option, Harry and Millie had put off the decision for a costume until the very morning of Halloween, since they were both sure that Millie's parents wouldn't buy them costumes, no matter how much they begged. They had discussed options, of course, but they hadn't made a decision, and now they had only around an hour until they had to go to school. Not wearing a costume wasn't an option either, since they both knew how Dudley would tease them when he found out that Millie's parents hadn't bought them costumes. No doubt he would be wearing some costume that cost several hundred pounds and had flashing lights and some sort of weapon.
They were stumped. They had to get a costume, there was no doubt of that. And the costume had to upstage Dudley, or else there was no point of it at all. But what? They had racked their brains for anything at all, looked in all of the books in the library, even gone to the school library to try to get ideas, but nothing seemed both good enough and feasible for them to make themselves.
"Could we ask your mother to Transfigure something for us?" Harry asked suddenly. "Then we wouldn't have to make it ourselves."
Millie jumped off the bed where she was sitting. "Harry, that's brilliant!" She ran to the door, and down to the first floor, where Mrs. Bulstrode was working in the library, the back of which had been turned into a study for her to work in since Harry's room now occupied the old study. Harry followed closely behind, laughing as Millie's shoulder bounced off the bannister and staggered her for a second. Millie had recently started growing, and she had become hilariously clumsy at times. She had always been a large girl, and she still was, so the combination of her broad shoulders and new-found height made it difficult for her to judge where she was going on occasion. Harry himself had some of the same problems, but he was not growing as fast as Millie, and had always been scrawnier than her, so he didn't have quite as much of a track record of knocking things over or bouncing off walls.
"Mother," Millie said as she burst into the library, Harry two steps behind her. "Could you Transfigure costumes for us for Halloween?" she asked loudly.
"Decorum, Millicent," Mrs. Bulstrode said calmly. "Remember, you must always keep your bearing. Now, what was it that you wanted?"
Millie took a deep breath, and visibly forced herself to calm down. "Mother, could you Transfigure costumes for Harry and I for our Halloween parade at school this afternoon? We can't think of what to wear that wouldn't require too much work."
Mrs. Bulstrode frowned. "I don't know if this would set a good precedent," she said. "Magic in the presence of Muggles, even if it's performed out of their sight, is edging close to breaking the Statute of Secrecy."
Millie groaned. "The Statute of Secrecy, mother? It's not breaking the Statute of Secrecy if it doesn't show anyone anything about magic. No one will even notice."
Mrs. Bulstrode looked at her daughter sternly. "Firstly, don't take that tone with me. You will treat me with respect, do you understand?" At Millie's reluctant nod, she continued. "Secondly, the point isn't that you think that the Muggles won't notice, the point is that every time you use magic around Muggles, even if you're sure they won't notice, the chances grow higher that you will slip up and they will see something. For that matter, what happens if someone asks where you bought your costume or how you made it? What will you say?"
Millie shrugged, still reluctant to admit that her mother had a point. Harry, however, could see what Mrs. Bulstrode meant. Still, it was Halloween. And they needed a costume.
"What would you suggest, then, Mrs. Bulstrode?" Harry asked. He had realized over the past few years, and particularly the last few months of living at the Bulstrodes', that Mrs. Bulstrode responded very well to formality, and liked to be asked for help. Of course, part of the problem with Millie was that she hated asking for help, at least help for things that she felt that she should be able to do herself. While the act of Transfiguration wasn't one of those, thinking of a costume certainly was, and Harry knew Millie would never admit that she didn't have an idea.
Mrs. Bulstrode smiled. "Well, Harry, although I said I wouldn't Transfigure clothes for you, that doesn't mean that I wouldn't be willing to help you in other ways. What kind of help do you two think that I would be willing to give, if I won't Transfigure clothes for you because I don't want to potentially expose magic to Muggles."
Millie frowned, thinking. Harry had an idea himself, but he let his friend answer.
"Well, you won't Transfigure the costume," she said, musing. "Because that's showing Muggles magic. But what if you just used magic to cut it or sew it?"
"Very good, Millicent. Unlike Transfiguration, using magic to cut a costume does not make the costume magical or give it magical properties."
"So does that mean that you will help?" Millie asked, happily.
Harry chimed in "We actually had a few ideas for costumes that we couldn't do because it would be too much work. But if you're willing to help…"
Mrs. Bulstrode frowned slightly. "I'm certainly willing to help," she said. "But I don't want to make something that's so elaborate that it doesn't look like it was stitched by hand. I expect a relatively simple costume."
Millie grinned. "Don't worry, mother, these costumes aren't too complicated. I mean, we definitely couldn't do them ourselves, but they don't look magical at all."
Harry chimed in, "We did get the inspiration from some of the books in the library, though."
Mrs. Bulstrode still looked dubious, but she said, "Well, bring me a description or picture of what you want, and we'll see if I'll agree."
When the pair of children walked to school an hour or so later, Millie was grinning from ear to ear, although she was sure Harry couldn't see it. How could he, when her face was obscured by the absolutely brilliant costume that her mother had made for her? Oh, she couldn't wait to see Dudley's face when he saw their costumes. Harry, wearing a matching costume, was following behind, and she knew that he was just as happy as her.
"Calm down, Millie," Harry called, laughing. "You don't want to trip and mess up the costume."
"Don't worry, Harry," she responded. "I'm not going to trip over my own feet."
"Can you even see through that mask?" he asked.
Millie responded by turning around and whapping him on the shoulder, grinning at him through the mask of her costume.
He smiled. "Okay, you win, Millie. You can see."
Millie laughed. She suddenly felt the absolutely uncharacteristic urge to spin around in the middle of the street. She'd never felt this happy about her mother, not for as long as she could remember.
"What is that?" For once in her life, Millie was happy to hear the sullen, envious tones of Dudley Dursley. Envious, Dudley Dursley himself, the king of spoiled brats, was envious of them.
"It's a costume, obviously," Millie responded, turning to face Harry's cousin.
The large boy was, true to form, wearing a very expensive looking costume. Not content with merely an eye patch and sword, like most who dressed up as pirates would, he was also had a shiny gun at his hip with a flashing light on the end, and he was wearing a bewildering mix of pirate and spaceman clothing, with the breeches of a pirate, but what looked like a shirt from Star Trek.
"Well, obviously they're costumes," he sneered, "but what are you supposed to be?" He seemed to have mastered his surprise at their costumes, for he added, "I mean, obviously it's not a very good costume, especially compared to mine."
Harry spoke up now, responding, "Well, what is your costume, anyway, Dudley? I can't quite tell if you're supposed to be Anne Bonny or Captain Janeway."
Dudley turned purple, which contrasted quite interestingly with the red of his shirt. "I'm a space pirate!" he shouted. He took a step towards Harry, pulling back the hand holding the sword, but he stopped when Millie stepped in front of her friend. "What are you, though?" he asked again. "Are you two…wizards?" He asked, shuddering as he said the word.
"No," laughed Millie. "Do we look like wizards to you? No, we're ghouls."
"Ghouls?"
Harry nodded, "Yes, ghouls, also known as the undead." He raised his hands up and took a step forward, moaning exaggeratedly.
Dudley shuddered and took a step back. "Your costumes look terrible, you…freaks," he shouted, before turning to the school, obviously trying not to look like he was running away.
Millie turned to Harry and laughed. "That was fantastic," she said. "When you insulted Dudley – that was brilliant." She paused a second. "I remember Anne Bonny from history last year, she was that woman who was a pirate. Who's Captain Janeway, though?"
Harry grinned. "She's a character from a TV show," he said. "I only know because they were running reruns once when I was staying with Mrs. Figg. Anyway, she's also a woman, and she's from the same TV show that Dudley got his shirt."
Millie laughed. "Good one."
Still laughing over Dudley's comeuppance, the pair of friends made their way into the school.
"I'm glad that mother helped us make these," Millie said.
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I'm just happy that she didn't think that they looked too much like…" Dementors, Millie knew Harry would have said, if he hadn't apparently realized that they were in a school full of Muggles.
"Yeah," she agreed. And the truth was, they didn't look allthat similar to Dementors. The idea had come from glancing at a book of magical creatures and seeing the entry for a Dementor, but even Mrs. Bulstrode had agreed that their costume wasn't hinting at anything it shouldn't.
And it was pretty funny the way that the Muggles thought of ghouls. The Muggle idea of a ghoul looked something like a three-way cross between a House-Elf, a Dementor, and an Inferius. Of course, they hadn't told Mrs. Bulstrode that last comparison, for Millie was pretty sure that if they had, it would give away the fact that they had been looking at books that they really probably shouldn't.
In fact, some of the entries in those books had given both children nightmares, and after reading a little too much about the Cruciatus curse, Harry and Millie had both agreed to stop sneaking into the downstairs library, and stick to Millie's own library for a while. Maybe not forever, but certainly for a while.
In any case, it was time for school, and Millie put away her thoughts of magic and dark curses for a while and decided to just enjoy the day and savor the look on Dudley's face.
Several hours later, Millie, who had been put on kitchen duty with Harry yet again, this time for 'insulting Mr. Dursley's quite impressive costume,' carried a bag of trash out of the kitchen to the dumpster behind the school. Miss Capon had gotten used to their help in the kitchens, and fairly often the pair of children would go and work in the kitchens even when they hadn't been given detention by one of the teachers. It wasn't that difficult, and it got them out of the reach of Dudley and his gang, which was always a plus.
In any case, over the past few years, Miss Capon had gotten more comfortable assigning them tasks beyond merely scrubbing pots. Sometimes they were even allowed to help with the cooking for lunch, although today they were merely helping with the after lunch clean-up, which was why Millie was carrying some garbage out to the dumpster.
As she walked, Millie was almost skipping, her spirits buoyed by the course of the day. Although Dudley and his crew continued to insult their costumes, several other students had come to Millie or Harry during the day and whispered things like "I like your costume" or "Your costumes are much better than Dudley's." Of course, they would never say it out loud, for fear of retribution from Dudley, but the encouragement still helped.
Millie almost tried to whistle, before she decided that it would be a little much. She didn't even know how to whistle. Harry had tried to teach her once, but –
She stopped suddenly, and stared in shock at the sight that greeted her eyes by the rear of the school. It couldn't be—could it?
Five men stood by the rear of the school, huddled in a circle and discussing something in low tones. That, however, wasn't what startled Millie. What startled Millie was the costumes that the men were wearing. Any Muggle who saw them would immediately decide that they were just wearing Halloween costumes. In fact, a Muggle would probably congratulate them for the obvious care and detail they put into their costumes, even if they were a little…odd.
But Millie knew better. Those were obviously not just costumes of wizards' robes, they were wizards' robes. No Muggle would have dreamed up robes that were so…simple…for a costume. They weren't adorned with stars or purple, and the men wearing them weren't wearing pointy hats, which hadn't been in vogue in the Wizarding World since 1962, according to her mother, but which were always traditional for Muggle costumes of Wizards. This wasn't some costume, these were actual robes. If Millie had any doubt at all, it faded away when she noticed the symbol adorning the front of one of the men's robes.
That symbol, however, although it certainly got rid of any doubts about whether the men were wizards or not, left her with a sense of nervousness to replace it. What was a wizard wearing the shield of the Rowles, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Pureblood houses, doing loitering around a Muggle school? Nothing good, Millie thought. For once in her life, Millie was glad that her mother had forced her to memorize the shields of all of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, or she wouldn't have even known that much.
Millie squared her shoulders. She would find out what they were doing here, she had to. She had an awful feeling it might have to do with Harry, and she wouldn't let anything happen to him while she could prevent it. She hefted the garbage bag over her shoulder and started walking towards the dumpster, which was conveniently close to the five men.
She was sure that a group of wizards, presumably pureblood or at least halfblood, wouldn't deign to notice one lowly Muggle girl, particularly one who was carrying trash. While her mother had tried to teach her all about how to be a Pureblood, her Auntie Barker had managed to sneak in a few lessons on the problems with the Pureblood mentality. And one of those problems was the inability, willful or otherwise, to see those who were not also Pureblooded as really people. To a Pureblood's mind, a Muggle is not really a person, she is just a thing, a piece of scenery that moves, even less real than the moving portraits on the wall.
"…is just some Muggle place. Are you sure he's here?" she heard one man say as she drew closer.
Trying not to look like she was listening, she took her time in her walk to the dumpster.
"No, I'm not sure," retorted another sharply. "We haven't found him the past eight years, have we, now? But the spell led here, so we might actually find him this time."
"But why would he be in a Muggle neighborhood? Do you think Dumbledore would really hide him with Muggles?" The distaste in the man's voice was obvious as he spoke the word Muggle.
Millie tried to figure out what the wizards were talking about. Hiding someone, who would Dumbledore…?
When she realized who the wizards were talking about, she nearly dropped the trash bag she was hefting. Millie was certainly glad she didn't, because although the wizards hadn't noticed her yet, dropping a trash bag about five feet from them would probably draw their attention, and nothing she had seen or heard from them made them look like wizards who were supportive of their Muggle brethren.
The front part of her brain focused on that and on trying to remain calm as she walked past the wizards and to the dumpster. It was only the need to keep them from noticing her that kept her from dropping into a panic attack right there. Harry, they were talking about Harry! Through sheer force of will, she forced herself to drop the bag in the dumpster and keep walking, as if she hadn't heard anything.
Still, she was far from calm in truth. She didn't know what they wanted with Harry, but she doubted it was to shake his hand.
Another wizard spoke, confirming that thought. "Who knows what the old crackpot would do? Anyway, even if we don't find him, this would be a fine place to start out our Halloween fun, eh?"
Millie almost broke out running then, but she managed to hold herself in. She had just gotten past the wizards in the other direction, keeping them in her peripheral vision by going a slightly longer way back to the kitchen, when she saw one of them pull out a wand. She tensed, but relaxed when she realized that he wasn't pointing it at her, or at anyone around. In fact, the rear of the school was pretty much deserted at the moment. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Instead, he chanted a few words, and waved his wand in a complicated gesture that she didn't recognize. Suddenly a shadowy hand appeared out of the wand. Millie saw it rotate around three times, before coming to a rest pointing at the door to the kitchen. Where Harry was.
Millie continued walking back to the kitchen, keeping the wizards in the corner of her eyes. If they were willing to do magic in the open in a Muggle school, that wasn't good news. Presumably, they intended to Obliviate—or worse—any Muggle who saw them. Hopefully, they wouldn't realize that she was still watching them.
Kenny Lennert was the first of the five wizards to see the Muggle girl. Well, that wasn't quite correct, as all of them had seen her, as she walked past them twice. It would be more correct to say that Kenny Lennert was the first of the five wizards to notice the girl. And he didn't notice her at all until she was almost at the door to the Muggle building the hand was pointing at.
"Harold," he said, not too loudly. "That Muggle girl, she's watching us."
And indeed, as they looked more closely, they could tell that she was. She was hiding it well, but she was clearly glancing at them warily out of the corner of her eyes, although she didn't seem to have realized that they could tell.
Jak Healton turned pale. "She can see the spell!"
He pulled his wand out, and pointed it at the Muggle, even as Harold shouted "Jak, don't…"
The spell Jak sent at the Muggle impacted harmlessly on the wall of the building, even as the Muggle girl abandoned all pretense and started running. Kenny, quick off the mark, managed to send one stunning spell at her before she reached the door, but he underestimated her speed, and his spell hit the building behind her. Several more spells hit the door and wall as the others reacted, but by then the girl had already gone inside and gotten the door closed.
"Merlin!" Harold shouted. "Why in Merlin's name would you do such a stupid thing?"
"She saw us," responded Jak. "We had to do something." Kenny thought that it probably wasn't the best response to give the obviously incensed Harold.
"Yes, she saw us." He said, almost growling. "But all she saw was a floating hand. She didn't know what it was, and she obviously didn't know what we are. She's just a Muggle, she probably was just scared of something she didn't understand. But know she knows that we're dangerous, although she obviously doesn't know how much."
"Well then, what do we do?"
"Do? We do what we were planning on doing anyway," responded Harold. "We just go find Harry Potter, and if he's not there, we can have a little bit of fun. And we make sure that we find the girl and keep her from giving the Ministry our descriptions."
Harry looked up in surprise as Millie ran back into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.
Miss Capon was also surprised, and expressed that as she asked, "Millicent, what are you—"
Abruptly, the question was answered, although not in a way that Miss Capon totally understood, as the space under the door was illuminated by several different colors in succession, and the door itself shook slightly.
Now, the question changed to "What is going on?"
Millie gasped, out of breath, "Harry…they're trying to…get Harry."
"Get Harry? Whatever do you mean?" asked Miss Capon.
Harry himself, however, had a pretty good idea of what Millie meant. "Are they Death Eaters?"
"Maybe…probably." Millie paused to catch her breath, glancing at the door a few times. "One of them had the crest of the Rowles on his robe."
"What kind of game are you two playing now?" Miss Capon asked. "I thought you two knew better than playing games in my kitchen."
"It's not a—" Millie's denial was proven moot when the door shuddered, and then abruptly shattered into a dozen pieces.
"Get down," shouted Harry, pushing Miss Capon behind a counter and following suit. Millie ducked behind a pile of pots on the floor by the sink.
Multiple spells flew by, hitting the back wall but fortunately missing all three occupants of the kitchen. As one pot which had been hanging on that wall hit the ground, split in half by a Cutting Curse, it was clear that the Death Eaters were not concerned with the health of the people inside.
"Run!" Millie shouted, as she ran across the room during a brief lull in the spells. Between them, Harry and Millie managed to drag the shocked Miss Capon out of the kitchen into the cafeteria. Fortunately, just after lunchtime, the cafeteria was entirely deserted. Unfortunately, it was a big room, and Harry didn't think that they'd be able to make it out without the Death Eaters hitting them with spells.
"We need to get my mother," Millie said. "I don't know how, though."
"What about the police?" Miss Capon said. "You said these people want to kidnap Harry. Well, that means we need to call the police."
Harry shook his head. "These aren't people the police can deal with," he said. Turning to Millie, he asked, "Does your mother have a telephone in the house?"
Millie first shook her head, but then hesitated. "Actually yes. Mr. Reilly called her once, that first time I got in trouble for helping you. After that he always just sent me with a note. I don't know the number, though."
Miss Capon looked at the pair of children. "Just what is going on here?" she asked, sternly. The slight waver in her tone gave the lie to her studied calm.
Harry wasn't sure how much to tell the cafeteria worker. Obviously anything he said would be breaking the Statute of Secrecy, and given the discussion he'd had with Millie's mother just this morning, he didn't think he wanted to do that. On the other hand…a spell impacting the opposite wall and leaving a rather startlingly sized hole reminded him that at this point, the Statute of Secrecy didn't really apply.
Luckily, Millie made the decision for him. "They're bad guys," she said. "I don't know what they want, but it's definitely not good."
Miss Capon was starting to shake a little, worrying Harry. "I think the shattered door and the hole in the wall told me that much, thank you, Ms. Bulstrode," she said, her voice shrill. "But what are they doing?"
Millie was saved the difficulty of answering by the sudden and ominous stop to the flow of curses.
"We should make a break for the door," Harry whispered.
"But if they're in the kitchen, they'll see us," Millie said, her voice cracking slightly.
Unfortunately, when the trio had ran out of the kitchen, they had, in their panic, ended up on the opposite side of the cafeteria from the doors. Even worse, the kitchen was laid out with a large opening into the cafeteria, where the food was handed out to the children.
"Well they'll see us here, if we don't move," Harry retorted. "We're just standing here."
"You're right," admitted Millie.
Harry began moving towards the center of the room with a vague notion of sprinting across the cafeteria before the Death Eaters got to the room. That plan was immediately ended by the appearance of five wizards through the doorway from the kitchen.
"What do you think you're doing?" asked Miss Capon, standing up straight despite her obvious fear. "This is a school, and I don't know what you're trying to…"
One of the wizards made a movement with his wand, and Miss Capon flew to the side, hitting the wall with a thud that made Harry wince.
Harry stared at the wizards in fear, stepping back until he was next to Millie. He could feel her shaking next to him, clearly as frightened as he.
"What do you want?" asked Millie, bravely. "You stay away from Harry."
"We'll do what we want, filthy Muggle," one wizard sneered.
Turning to Harry, the wizard in the lead looked him up and down. "This?" he asked, incredulously. "This is what stopped the Dark Lord?"
Harry didn't know what to say to that. He didn't remember it, didn't know what had happened. It's not like he chose to stop the darkest wizard ever.
"How did you do it, boy?"
"I d-dunno," he stammered, feeling scared, and ashamed of it. He doubted his parents had been this scared when You-Know-Who had come after them.
"That's not a good answer, Boy-Who-Lived," the wizard said, biting out the words. He raised his wand. "Crucio."
Suddenly Harry felt pain throughout his body. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. He couldn't think, couldn't move, could barely breathe. All he could feel was the pain that was coursing through his body. Every part of his body felt like it was on fire, there wasn't a single…
"Stop!"
Harry gasped for breath as the pain ended. He opened his eyes warily, and realized that somehow there was not a crack straight down the middle of his left lens. How had he ended up on the ground, anyway. He thought he was standing up?
"Stay away from Harry!"
Harry tried to focus his eyes on the scene in front of him. All he could see was the back of Millie's costume, where she stood in front of him.
He heard laughter. "She's brave, for a Muggle," sneered a voice. "Well, if you want to suffer too, we'll be happy to oblige you. Crucio."
Millie crumpled to the ground in front of him, screaming in pain. Harry winced in the memory of that pain, which he had experienced not a few seconds before. He could barely move, but he started crawling towards his best friend.
What could he do? He could barely think, with the memory of that pain still enfusing his bodies and muddling his brain. He reached out his arm to Millie, catching her hand in his. Her screaming—
Acting on instinct, Harry rolled himself over Millie, purposely putting his body between her and the wizards. All of a sudden, Millie stopped screaming, but Harry barely realized that as he began feeling the curse in her stead.
After what seemed like an eternity, the pain stopped. Harry focused on the warmth of Millie's palm in his, ignoring the laughter of the wizards standing above them. He couldn't stop shaking.
Harry opened his eyes, carefully, and found that this time he had lost his glasses entirely. He could barely see Millie as more than a blob, and couldn't see the Death Eaters at all, except as ominous looking clouds of black.
"Stupefy."