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Posted June 14, 2012.

-CHAPTER 14-

BOTCHED REPATRIATION

The morning of October 13 found the headmaster attending breakfast in the Great Hall, as was the routine. It was going on 8:30, and so most of the students were present, the noise in the room reflecting that. Things were about to be rudely interrupted.

The doors to the hall slammed open, and four crimson-robed Aurors stepped into the room, and marched up the centre of it, between the long tables, to stop in front of the raised dais. At first, Dumbledore thought they were British Aurors, but as they got closer, he could see the maple leaf forming the background of the Auror badge.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," said one of them, his voice raw and gravelly.

"May I help you Aurors?"

"In accordance with a warrant issued by ICW's Judiciary committee, you are hereby placed under arrest. Please stand."

"Excuse me?"

"On what charges? This is outrageous!" McGonagall was incensed.

"I assure you, Professor, there are good reasons. Now, Headmaster. We insist. Please do not cause a scene," spoke the second Auror.

She was as short as the first was tall, but had already produced her wand.

"Now see here yeh lot," Hagrid thundered, leaping to his feet and nearly sending the table flying, "Dumbledore's a good man, wouldn't hurt a flea!"

"Calm down, Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sadly, as he rose, "Minerva, please see to the school in my absence. I'll in the meantime go with these gentlemen and get this sorted out."

As the headmaster left with the Aurors, McGonagall pursed her lips. She had a strong suspicion of exactly who was responsible for this turn of events. She would make a floo call later. The noise in the hall had risen significantly, as the student body talked rapidly amongst themselves.

"Finish up, please," McGonagall spoke firmly.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, was caught off guard, as they port keyed not to the Ministry of Magic in London, as he had expected, but to the Canadian Ministry, in Toronto. There, he was subjected to a thorough scan of his person for things which could be used to escape, or inflict self-injury, standard practice in the treatment of prisoners. To the ancient wizard, it was personally degrading, considering his status.

"All right, Mr. Dumbledore. You have the right to make a single floo call before we put you in lock up."

"What am I being detained for, gentlemen?"

"A number of charges, sir, beginning with murder, endangering a child, theft, fraud, misrepresentation of estate, tampering with a witness, false imprisonment, and uttering a false document. The lead protector is still compiling the charges, but those to start. Now let's get your floo call over with, so we may get you down to lock up."

This was not good. Dumbledore quickly put two and two together, and realized at once who had initiated such charges. Harry was wasting little time. Understandably he carried a lot of anger and resentment, but this... a lot of damage would be done to the light should he actually end up before a court. He allowed the Auror to lead him over to the floo.

"Who are we contacting, sir?"

"Alastor Moody, number twelve, Grimmauld Place," Dumbledore answered.

The Order had managed to retain the house, after placing the new owners under the Imperius curse. The former Auror had no trouble using the unforgivable, as, in his words, "The end justifies the means." The floo was activated, and Dumbledore stuck his head in. The conversation lasted about ten minutes, after which, he was escorted down to the holding cells.

October 23, 2000

Hogwarts

Sandra had certainly been to visit the Wizarding school before, but not on official business, since her cases had not involved English matters... not until now. On this particular morning, she found herself in the office of the rather sour Potions Professor, Severus Snape. Jason had certainly warned her about his demeanour—not that it was needed—Sandra was well aware of the man's temperament.

Be that as it may, the man had been added to the prosecution's witness list, and although a firm date had not been set for the hearing, she was already doing the leg work.

"You have been given notice requiring your attendance at the upcoming hearing for Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes," answered the potions master, curtly, his patented sneer firmly in place.

"I have been sent to ask a few questions pertaining to the charges he is facing."

That earned yet another sneer from the potions master.

"I will make no comment with regard to the headmaster unless it is during the actual trial, madam solicitor. You have wasted your time seeking me here."

Sandra got straight to the point.

"Professor. You realize, the accused nearly caused Mr. Black's death?"

"That mutt... good riddance," answered Snape, viciously.

"Not Sirius Black. I'm talking about the current head, my client, Professor."

"Potter."

"Black. The evidence lays several incidents which could have resulted in my clients death, directly at the headmaster's feet. I will not even begin to deal with my clients' abuse at the hands of his relatives."

Snape blinked. He'd believed Potter was every bit the spoiled little prince, being waited on hand-and-foot by his family. Albus had assured him he was being well taken care of, hadn't he?

"Explain!"

Sandra had him at this point. Jason had suggested she use that piece of information as bait, although it somewhat pained him to do so, but it worked better than she could have hoped.

"I'm sure Albus Dumbledore was more than happy to placate you and fill you with false stories of the boy's upbringing. Should you wish it, I believe Jason would be quite willing to supply a pensieve full of memories which would paint a rather different picture."

"But surely—" Snape did not finish.

If the boy were being mistreated—no, he wouldn't tell a soul. Just like he himself did not. How could he have missed the signs? He mentally berated himself, realizing the answer at once. His hate for the father had blinded him toward the son. It was as though a stone had dropped into the pit of his stomach. He had failed in his promise to Lily.

Schooling his features, he said, "Miss Fraser. You will have my full cooperation."

"Good to hear. Call me Sandra."

Snape inclined his head, and beckoned for her to take a seat in front of the fire. She accepted the offer.

"I need not say, those are serious charges. The tribunal is collecting evidence and it's more than likely further charges are pending."

"What is it you hope to accomplish by this sort of proceeding?"

The sneer was still evident, although somewhat less than it had been.

"Jason wishes to prevent others from facing the same sort of treatment as he's had from the accused. He also sends eternal gratitude for your testimony during the original trial."

"Mr. Black would not murder a classmate," Snape answered firmly, "Not even someone he despised. Being in Azkaban and the four years since, I can't be sure if that's changed."

"We are all capable of murder, Professor. Surely, you realize that."

"This is true," the potions master conceded. He then asked, "What other sort of charges is the headmaster facing?"

"Endangering a child, misrepresentation of estate, uttering a false document, fraud, multiple counts of tampering with a witness, and multiple counts of misuse of authority, just to start. As I've already said, the tribunal is investigating, and further charges are likely. Your cooperation will give you immunity from any charges that may result."

Snape nodded slowly. Black was letting him off lightly. Given the unfair way he'd treated the boy, he himself could be facing some very serious charges.

"Jason has most certainly filled me in on the relationship the pair of you had while he was a student. He does understand why, now far-removed from the school. However, I do have to ask a few questions just the same..."

Evening of October 31

Given the remote nature of the area, there had been very few trick-or-treaters calling at the Black property. They had still decorated, perching several jack-o-lanterns on the front porch, spooky candles in the windows, and even set up a set of speakers playing rather appropriate ambient sounds. It was not quite as much fun as back at Hogwarts, but they certainly had their own little party.

They had slowly wrapped things up, and by 11:30, the guests had all gone home. The offer had been there for everyone to stay the night, but it had been declined, and so only those more regular members of the household remained. Ron and Hermione excused themselves, since Ron did have a class in the morning to help with, and so it was only Jason, Mace, and Capa left. The three of them half-sat, half-lay in deck chairs, buried under several heavy blankets against the chill of the mid-autumn air. It had been a great evening all in all.

"'s been a great night, I think," said Jason, slurring his words slightly, the buzz of a half-dozen beers in full effect, "Usually something fucked up happens, y'know? Mum an' dad's death for starters."

"For real?" said Capa, arching an eyebrow.

"Voldemort murdered my parents eighteen years ago tonight. Halloween's not a happy time for me an' now you know why. Then there's been the troll incident, first year, right? Told you guys 'bout that. An' then there's been the Chamber o' Secrets incident... first night I heard the bas'lisk. That was a—"

"Charlie-foxtrot," Mace finished.

"Yeah, 'bout the size of it. An' third year... Sirius broke into the school, right? Attacked the Fat Lady... err... the portrait to the Gryffindor common room, see?"

"And fourth year... your name came out of the Goblet of Fire," Mace remembered.

"Exactly. So as I said... Halloween's not been a lot of fun for me." He picked up his beer, and downed the rest of it. "'s why I didn't want a big deal of things."

Suddenly, Jason jerked, as though he'd just gotten a nasty shock, and clutched the back of his head. Mace, meanwhile, saw the entire property line to the east of them shimmer a brilliant red for a moment, then disintegrate. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Six figures had popped onto the property.

"Capa! Get Jason inside."

Mace scrambled to his feet, producing his wand, and readied his ice spike. "Get the others."

"Got it."

"I got this. Don' just send me away," said Jason, trying to get to his feet.

His intoxicated mind, however, proved too much of a hindrance. He fell back onto the deck chair. The group of intruders were racing toward them, and Mace was forced to duck, as several bolts of magic whizzed by, narrowly missing. Jason drew his wand.

"Hit to hurt... just like I showed. REDUCTO!"

A blast of red magic burst from his wand, narrowly missing the intruder.

"Jason?" Hermione had come out of the house.

"Kreacher!" Mace called, firing off a curse of his own.

Pop. "Master Mace ask for Kreacher?"

"Take Jason inside. Now."

"Of course."

"NO. You won't be taking me anywhere."

A blast of magic impacted with a vacant chair, turning it to ash. Kreacher instantly sized up the situation, and popped away, gripping Jason by the sleeve.

"What are these people... Mace, come on, inside-" she barely had time to duck, as another purple blast of magic narrowly missed, and impacted with the side of the house instead. It was getting deadly.

"You guys come on! We'll floo to the ministry."

Hermione levelled her wand toward the attackers, firing off several curses of her own. Jason, of course, burst out the back door, staggering back toward his mate, but his wand was trained on the attackers. More angry spells flew, but missed their marks wildly.

KAWHACK!

Mace, however, did not miss. The frozen projectile nailed one of the invaders, impaling them in the shoulder. They collapsed in a heap, and did not get up.

Pop. Jason had no time to act, as one of the attackers Apparated directly behind Mace, grabbed him by the shoulder, and they popped away.

"NOOOO!" Jason screamed, his arm spinning to line up with the nearest attacker.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

The curse found its target, and they too collapsed to the ground. The others popped away.

"No. No, no, no," Jason cried, and collapsed into deep sobs.

"I got this. Get help, Hermione," said Capa, although he, too was numb at this point.

Hermione practically flew back into the house, threw floo powder into the grate, calling out, "Auror office!" and stuck her head in the fire.

It had taken a bit of time to put the plan together. On Albus' instructions, Alastor had collected individuals within the Order known to be trustworthy with this sort of operation. None of the other professors could be called on, nor Hagrid, for that matter. They had to be foot soldiers, lesser-known individuals, but ones who would not question his instructions or Albus' leadership. After all, there had been rumblings in the Order about the headmaster perhaps losing his way, and no longer having the mettle to lead the organization. Those individuals would not do on such a mission.

Using his contacts and influence, the retired Auror had learned where the Potter boy was currently living, and more importantly, if there were any protections on the property. It came back as no surprise, the property had been well-warded, given the fact the eldest Weasley was a frequent visitor, according to the small amount of surveillance conducted. The target was not the boy, but the muscular man who had become practically glued to his hip. Potter would do just about anything for his friends and those he cared about. It seemed, James Mace was more than that. Moody couldn't ask for a better bargaining chip.

They brought down the wards on the property fairly easily, thanks to a senior warder enjoying some time off. He'd been paid rather handsomely with funds withdrawn from the school's vault—Albus had waved it off as a nominal expense. The spells had immediately started flying, but Moody held back, waiting for the package to be collected.

That took no more than two minutes, and he popped away. Most unfortunate two had been felled. One had been able to Auror Smythand was a promising recruit. Whatever Potter had done to him, it looked fatal. And Tonks... Whatever sort of weapon Mace was able to throw, it was wicked. The Auror would need the services of a healer right away—another member of the team had popped away with her. He frowned. Hadn't Albus warned him about the strange magic Mace could cast?

The rendezvous point was chaos. Two members of the extraction team were laid out in the abandoned barn, with several frozen projectiles piercing their torsos. One was still conscious, moaning in pain, while the second was knocked out from the injury. The other two members of the extraction team were also knocked out, one from the injury at the site, the other... looked blue in the face, as though he'd been suffocated.

"Come out and face me, boy," Moody growled, wand at the ready, his magical eye whirring madly.

KAWHACK! The icy projectile just barely missed.

"Come now, surrender and we won't harm Potter."

"Doubt that, fucker."

Mace leapt across a gap between the two upper platforms.

KAWHACK!

The spike again barely missed, forcing Moody to take cover behind a bale of hay.

"REDUCTO!" A red bolt of magic impacted with the beam holding the platform up, bringing it crashing to the floor, and sending the muscular man flying.

KAWHACK!

The ice spike this time found a target as Mace fell, impacting with Moody's wooden prosthetic leg, felling the former Auror. On his arse, however, he got his wand trained on his target.

"Expelliarmus!"

Mace was sent flying backwards, into the back wall of the barn, and knocked silly.

"That will be enough, I think. Reparo," the grizzled old Auror whispered, and the busted prosthetic became almost as good as new.

He got to his feet, wand still trained on the now dazed man. The guy was breathing hard, chest heaving, casting the coldest look of hatred he could muster.

"The headmaster is only doing what is best for Potter. The boy has lost sight of that."

"Fuck you," Mace spat, trying to get his body to coordinate itself again.

Whatever the wizard had done to him, it had truly fucked him up. He finally got the orb to form in his hand, but a wand was then at his chest.

"Don't try it, lad," Moody warned, "Don't make it hard on yourself. I will stun you if I have to, and from experience, it won't tickle."

POP. Crack. The air was filled with dozens of pops and cracks, as the building seemed to be filled with crimson-robed Aurors.

"MINISTRY OF MAGIC!" Moody whirled to see wands being pointed at him from every conceivable location. It was all over. He simply sheathed his wand, and raised his arms.

"Good man. Step away from the victim. Slowly now."

"Just twitch the wrong way, you'll be in a body-bind." Mace recognized the Auror as Jessup Morgan. "All right there, Mr. Mace?"

"Be better once my head stops spinning. Some spell he used slammed me against the wall. Knocked me a bit stupid."

"Disarming hex," Moody supplied.

"Alastor Moody. Normally I would be more than happy to be meeting you. Unfortunately. You're under arrest, along with your compatriots. Charges of forcibly entering a warded property, attempt to commit bodily harm, abduction, forcible confinement, and illegally entering the country. Further charges may be added, should we see fit."

"We'll see to their processing, sir," said a chunky Auror.

"See to it, Seth. Beware this one, he's been at it a long time, knows more than all of us put together."

"Of course, sir."

"You two, meanwhile, with me, while we get Mr. Mace back where he belongs." Jessup gestured to two other Aurors.

"How's Jason?"

"Not harmed, but going half out of his mind worried about you."

"Then let's not fuck around."

He hoisted himself back to his feet, and fought back the wave of nausea. This was not going to be fun. The four of them linked arms, and popped away.

Landing back at the property, Mace felt his insides do the loop-the-loop, he bent over, and lost the remnants of dinner. It was only the pinnacle to the disaster that had now crowned what had been a great evening much earlier.

"Okay?"

"Will be..." He finally stood upright. "Gah... need some extra-strength mouthwash."

"Mace?" Capa was the first to greet the group. In the dim light, his friend looked terrible.

"Where's Jason?"

"We... um... Hermione had to stun him."

"Hey Jessup. We got another... um... another victim here." Another group of Aurors was still combing the property for evidence as to exactly what had happened. "The guy's cut open pretty bad."

"Still alive?"

"Yes sir."

"Send for a healer. We'll want to question all of them as to exactly what they were up to." Jessup turned back to Mace. "Go see to Jason. We'll all have a lengthy chat in the morning."

Inside, the house was still buzzing with people. It was no surprise Bill was there, as were his parents. Sandra was also there, along with her assistant. Mace only barely said 'hello', then climbed the stairs. He was in shock at this point. They had stormed onto the property, after HIM. Not Jason. Not Ron. Not Hermione. HIM. To get at his partner, his love, they came after HIM. If James Mace had his way, the person or persons responsible would be in a lot of pain when he was done with them.

No surprise, Ron and Hermione were keeping vigil at Jason's bedside. Jason looked pale, even in the dim light, and by the movements of his chest, it looked like his breathing was a bit shallow.

"How is he?"

"Destroyed," answered Ron, "Went completely mental after you were grabbed."

"I had to stun him, he was about to go after you," said Hermione, "He wasn't rational."

"No, I get it... did what you had to."

Mace shed his sweater and the tee shirt under it, and tossed it into a nearby chair. "Charlie-foxtrot."

"A Charlie—what?" Ron was lost.

"Cluster-fuck," Mace clarified, sourly, "Describes this mess perfectly."

He stripped down to his underwear, not really caring about the others in the room at this point. He climbed into bed, and pulled Jason close.

"You won't mind us sticking around?" Hermione dared ask.

Since Jason was so out of it, Mace had to physically shift him onto his side, so they were in their usual positions when they slept together. "No, 's all good to me. After this shit... I'd want my friends around too if I didn't have family."

"Not the first time we've been at his bedside, mate," said Ron, darkly.

"Get some rest," said Hermione, "You don't look much better than Jason does."

At exactly 7 am, Cornelius Fudge was all but forced to meet with the Canadian Minister, Angela Simpson. She had barged through the floo with the Canadian DMLE head, as well as their head Auror, demanding said meeting. Fudge cringed, seeing the blaze of fury raging on the foreign minister's face. No, this was not going to be pleasant. Still, he attempted to placate her.

"Good morning, Angela... may I get—"

"Stuff the niceties, Fudge!" Angela hissed, "I would like an explanation as to why four of your Aurors came calling at the Black household in the early hours of this morning."

"I'm afraid-"

"I have five British witches and wizards in our lockup right now, Minister," said the lead Auror, "Another is still at Upper Canada Hospital under Auror guard."

"So it's back to our first question," said Angela, "What were they doing there?"

"We... I did not authorize any sort of... envoy to Canada, madam Minister," Fudge answered, timidly.

Angela Simpson was normally a very polite, friendly witch to deal with. To see this side of her character was throwing Fudge off balance.

"We are already questioning them," said the DMLE head, "I'm finding it even more alarming you have no knowledge of the activities of your Aurors. Might they be involved in something on the side that you weren't aware of?"

"We are checking them for the dark mark, Minister," said the head Auror, "You should be aware, no matter what the outcome, they will all be serving some serious prison time."

"What? We can't afford-" Fudge protested.

"Then perhaps you should be better informed of what's going on within your own ministry!" Angela snapped, cutting him off, "If you did, you might have a better chance at dealing with Voldemort."

She rolled her eyes as Fudge let out a gasp, and looked about ready to faint at the speaking of the Dark Lord's name.

"This is your only warning, Minister," said the DMLE head, "Next time some idiot decides to cross the pond and stir up some sort of shit, you'll have much bigger problems on your hand than a few terrorists."

"But... but..." Fudge stammered.

"But what? Sending Aurors into Canada without clearing it through our office?" the head Auror tsk-tsk'ed. "Wake up, Fudge. We could declare it war, and you know it."

Fudge turned deathly white. "M-madam Minister... surely... we can discuss this."

"Discuss what? A young wizard who now calls Canada home had his safety, his sanctuary invaded in no small way this morning. His friend was abducted by those individuals, and I promise you, had they been able to get out of the country with him, this conversation would have been very different," said Angela, coldly, "I would suggest you determine the individuals behind this invasion, to ensure there is not a repeat performance."

She stormed off, back toward the fireplaces, her escort closely behind.

Only when the Aurors watching her back left through the fireplace did he let go of the breath he was holding. He'd not even gotten the chance to ask who it was they had captured, for Merlin's sake! He did, of course, have an inkling of who might actually be involved. Black, she said, eh? Potter, she actually meant. So Dumbledore was trying to get the boy back under his control again, then. But... wasn't he also being held by the Canadian Ministry? He needed some answers, yesterday!

Jason's dreams as he lay unconscious were torture, as his mind invented new ways for his love to be tortured, cursed, and murdered. Each of them seemed to be worse, darker than the last. It was like Cedric, all over again. Worse still, with the potions they had given him, he had no idea the person featured in his nightmares was then safely laying beside him.

AUTHOR NOTES: Up next... fallout from the attempted kidnapping, including a significant modification of the wards surrounding the property...