Chapter 13: Mission Romania - Reconnaissance

In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. – Carl Sagan

The landing was harsh and sudden – Harry stumbled to his knees painfully as the intensity of the sudden shock sent him to the ground, his elbow crashing into Rafe's shin as he rolled and landed haphazardly against Snape's side. He hurriedly removed himself from the tangle though he didn't miss the Potion Master's fierce scowl. Thankfully, nobody had made it without falling over, so he didn't stand out – with so many using the same Portkey, one that was especially made to be as undetectable as possible, this was bound to happen. The trip, if anything, had been more psychedelic than usual, and it took some effort to stop his stomach from protesting.

"Is everyone okay?" Remus asked gingerly, stretching out his limbs – he, much like Rafe, seemed to have little to no side-effects from the actual trip; doubtlessly enhanced strength and agility due to their lycanthropy helped out considerably. Harry swore he could feel even the bones in his ears protesting. Hestia Jones was blushing terribly, having landed quite solidly on the laps of the Weasley twins, who couldn't help smirking widely at the embarrassing position and were poking her lightly in the side while chuckling. She got herself to her feet and dusted off her clothes with a blush.

Harry shook himself as Remus turned to him, slipping into his poorly rehearsed new role. He remembered to keep in mind to call the man Lupin, though the name felt somewhat foreign on his tongue after having been corrected into calling him Remus instead. The werewolf coughed into his hand, attracting the attention of the Order of the Phoenix members that were still busy checking themselves over. "I believe we should move out immediately, as Romanian wizards are likely to find the Portkey use within minutes, even if it was a good one."

"Right, right," Hestia stated nervously, glancing at Snape with a raised eyebrow; the Potions Master was sneering nastily at nothing in particular, clearly still ruffled by his undignified stumble into the dirt. "We needed to go north, right? Let's go, then – I'll clean up our trail, I know the spells." She murmured something under her breath before practicing a complex wand movement, eyes narrowed in concentration.

Remus didn't object to Hestia's suggestion; he was the assigned leader of the Order members that had come along, even if it was almost certain that it was actually Snape that was calling the shots, knowing Dumbledore. Harry rather doubted the Headmaster would send his personal Death Eater spy along just because he was good with a wand.

The trek north was tranquil – the slightly wooded area was all but abandoned by even wildlife, as only a few woodland animals scurried across the path and even they seemed unafraid of the passing humans. This would suggest that they were rather far from the nearest inhabited settlement, Muggle or otherwise. Hestia regularly cast spells behind them, her hand barely stopping its elegant movement as she scrawled runic symbols into the sky – cleaning spells as well as diffusion spells which were generally used to decontaminate areas brimming with dark magic, but which would work equally well to hide the passage of wizards; Hermione had mentioned the latter once, as an optional project for Ancient Runes, though Harry hadn't really paid attention. He didn't know the spells, or even the runes – probably a good thing to look up, next time he was in the library.

"At this speed, it'll take us hours to get there," Fred said unusually glumly, looking questioningly at Harry – probably he was worried about his brother Charlie, as George looked equally glum and determined. "Mr. Black – we took along brooms, why aren't we using them?"

"Using brooms now would defeat the purpose of hiding, Mr. Weasley," Harry responded shortly, smirking. "You might not have realized, but flying brooms are magical objects. The only reason we can use any magic at all is that we're keeping it to innocuous cleaning charms, generally considered too inconsequential to keep track of by even the most uptight of magical law enforcement agencies." He smiled, then. "When we inevitably get into a stand-off with Death Eaters though, brooms may well be our ticket out of a tight spot."

Fred and George spent the next half hour discussing something decidedly obscure, as the few words Harry caught were rather arcane and complicated – some had the decidedly high-tech-sounding vibe of modern Muggle electronics, which Harry didn't realize the boys even knew about, given their father's weird opinions on the topic. The two were passing small packages back and forth that they pulled from their pockets and Harry looked on with casual interest. Snape hadn't said a word since they'd left, though he had repeatedly seemed ready to start a conversation before frowning and backing off, refusing to meet Harry's eyes. Not once had the man tried to use Legilimency – thankfully, Harry was fairly confident he'd be able to fend off the wizard now, at least long enough to turn away. Remus sent sad looks at 'Regulus' on occasion – doubtlessly he was still thinking about Sirius' connection with him.

"We're close enough," Harry announced as he recognized a tall and spindly clock tower that stuck haphazardly out of the ruins of what had to be a long-abandoned church; the bell was just hanging on by a thread, seemingly about to fall over. Harry briefly mused that evidently ghost towns were destined to be part of his missions; he hoped dearly that vampires weren't. "This was one of the landmarks the Minister pointed out – the bell tower of a place called 'Rejtettfalu', one of several ancient part-wizard towns that were spread around Hungary but lost during the war with Grindelwald. The dragons and their thieves were tracked to around two miles east of here, in the hills."

"Two miles away, and we haven't heard a peep," Hestia muttered. "They must have those dragons sedated or completely covered in silencing charms."

Harry nodded worriedly. "They're miles from any Muggles here – there would be no need to silence them so completely, given that Romanian Aurors do not have the kind of information we have regarding their location. Besides, Death Eaters wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone that approached to check."

"How are we going to tackle this?" Remus asked, gesturing Fred and George forward. "Fred and George can cause a diversion, if we need it – they've brought along a small arsenal of magical traps and distractions."

"I would suggest a bidirectional assault," Harry said under his breath, frowning. Moody had been teaching him basic war tactics – while trading magical attacks with him in a duel, of course – and it came in handy now. "If we make them believe there's only one group of attackers, the others may catch them off guard by sneaking in through the back. Our first priority is freeing the prisoners, which should be their task, after which they get out and everyone takes off. We are NOT here to take down as many Death Eaters as we can – leave that to the Aurors."

"One group barges in the front, diverts attention," Remus concluded with a nod. "Assuming the Death Eaters are properly prepared, they've blanketed their entire location with wards to keep out Ministry detection, and to prevent apparition – we can use any spell we like, and the wards will keep them in as much as us. I'd think it best that Fred and George are on the assaulting team, at least, given their destructive merchandise."

"I can provide healing, if it's necessary," Hestia supplied hesitantly. "I took a few courses – I'll go with whoever needs that most." She nodded at Lupin with a smile, quickly scooting back.

Snape grumbled, glaring at the twins in disdain as they discussed amongst themselves what mayhem they were going to rain down on the Death Eaters – some awfully bomb-like items made their way out of pockets and exchanged hands, most of them labelled broadly with bright colours. "I take it you're going with these brats, Lupin?"

"So am I," Rafe said, smiling widely as Remus nodded. "I'm not big on the whole subtlety thing, if you catch my drift. Much more likely to blow someone up than sneak up on 'em." He snickered slightly. "I can cause mayhem easily enough, though."

"Unspeakable Wolf is definitely better suited for your group," Harry said dryly, looking at Hestia and Snape. "I would suggest a small team is best for sneaking in. There is an obvious answer here as to whom should make up that group - two of us have the means of passing a cursory inspection."

"What do you – Ah." Lupin nodded in realization, sending a troubled look at Harry. "The Dark Mark. Right."

Snape glared at Lupin, rubbing his arm without really thinking about it as he seemed to briefly contemplate the idea. He sent a look of intense loathing Harry's way, though it had no apparent effect and seemed rather forced. Finally he nodded tiredly. "Very well, I will go with Black."

"You don't have to sound so disappointed," Harry put in amusedly, tapping the black-clad man on the shoulder – he flinched away, glaring. "It'll be like old times!"

"We'll need a signal to make sure we actually divert attention," Lupin continued, ignoring the interplay. "You'll have to get in and release the hostages quickly, as it's doubtful that even Death Eaters will leave their flanks open for very long – especially if Voldemort's around."

Harry shrugged, doubting that the Dark Lord was anywhere near – even if his scar was fairly normal now, he suspected strongly that close proximity would still result in a blighter of a headache. "Severus – I trust you took the appropriate potions along?"

Snape scoffed, tapping on his breast pocket. "A few essentials and a small batch of Polyjuice- no more than four doses." Snape drew a few out of his pocket and handed them over begrudgingly.

"That should be enough," Harry muttered. "Scrimgeour supplied me with some hairs, in case we require a new identity on the double for ourselves or the abductees – known Death Eaters, a few high profile Aurors to scare off the enemy, that sort of thing. They're charmed to disintegrate when coming into contact with anyone but me, though, so you'll have to make do with hairs we find around here for now, lest we lose that option." Rafe looked at him with a confused expression, as if surprised that the Minister actually properly prepared Harry for the job.

"Well, then." Lupin said idly, nodding with finality. "I suggest the attacking team goes eastwards from here, and makes their way closer to the enemy hideout, keeping out of sight. Severus and Regulus can go around the place via the north – the hills should cover your movements fairly well, and they will also muffle the sound of a struggle, should you get involved in one with a sentry."

"We're not amateurs," Harry muttered, feeling decidedly out of his depth anyway, considering he had only had a crash course in ass kicking from Moody and the like, not much else. Still, he was capable of beating Auror recruits, which should stand for something – he had some practical experience in this panicked sort of shoot-first-ask-questions-later stuff. Silently he went over his spell choices once more with some worry, as he'd been unable to actually try out some of them on live targets yet. They'd probably work – but that was a risky business when up against actual dark wizards.

"The signal will be a Patronus message," Lupin finally decided, nodding at Snape with a knowing look and a quick hand signal. "No words, just the momentary appearance of its shape. I'll keep it tiny so it won't attract too much attention, though I'd stay out of sight anyway. "

'Wish we had two-way mirrors,' Harry thought, remembering that he'd gifted Malfoy with one, not that long ago – the Slytherin had yet to actually use it to contact him, but he was glad to know that should it become necessary, the boy could. Malfoy was a school rival, but that seemed so very inconsequential now.

"Black, follow." Snape muttered curtly, moving off towards the north as the rest gave a quick wave and disappeared into the underbrush eastwards past the collapsed church, casting disillusionment charms on themselves as they went. Harry sighed as he quickly rushed after the Potions Master, who was looking decidedly glum and angry. Like the others he cast the disillusionment charm as Snape did, though Harry was somewhat confused when all it did was give the man a slightly fuzzy edge – hardly worth the spell power. Snape suddenly stopped, turning and grabbing Harry's robe. "Listen, Black."

Harry slapped away Snape's hand, raising an eyebrow at Snape's white-hot glare. "You're not one to get physical, Severus. Out with it."

Snape looked at him with loathing plainly visible, turning his wand in his hand with a twitch. "I know we are required to work together, but I won't take the constant mockery, nor your seeming insistence to address me. We were never friends, we will never be friends, and I'd rather you don't act so obliviously to our history. I do not forgive treachery."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry muttered in response, scowling. "You're being a paranoid little prince, aren't you?"

Snape blanched, putting his wand on Harry's throat in an instant. "Listen, Black – you know as well as I do that the last time we saw each other, you tried to kill me. You may act as if it was nothing, but I know what kind of person you are – people don't change. You were and are a traitor."

"You'd be surprised how much people can change," Harry muttered, worried at the intense hatred that Snape displayed. There had been nothing about any attempted murder in Regulus' files – indeed, the Black heir really didn't seem the type for wanton killing at all. The most obvious possibility was that this event happened while in the service of Voldemort – Regulus had lashed out at Snape for some reason, possibly because he suspected the latter's status as a spy; that would make the most sense. Even if not a killer by nature, Death Eaters would do many things for their Lord.

"You know things were different, then." Harry said carefully after a while, looking sadly at Snape; he didn't have to act much, as he could see by the trembling that whatever happened in the past had affected Snape quite a bit, and had been roughly brought back to the forefront of his mind due to his alter ego's reappearance. He felt genuine guilt over dredging up old problems, merely for the sake of a role. It was a little too much like stealing a life. "Loyalties were … questionable. You know this."

"Loyalties." Snape spat, turning around. "You were never loyal to anyone but yourself."

"You think so little of me, Severus, when you know that if I truly intended to kill you, you would have died." He cocked his head to the side, smiling slightly. "I was loyal to the house of Slytherin." Harry answered, remembering clearly the words of the young portrait of Regulus that he'd spoken to. This would be the ideal time… "Do you remember Taggart's dog, Severus?"

Snape stiffened, his eyes resolutely turned away as he walked off down the path, quickly followed by the younger wizard as the two turned east after a while, evading the target by a wide margin and arriving at their intended destination "I remember the dog." Snape finally said, subdued, after a solid fifteen minutes of silence.

"It was incredibly idiotic, on all our parts," Harry said morosely, forcing himself to ignore the stirrings of his conscience, not to mention his feelings for his godfather. "Little Sirius, for intentionally bringing it to the attention of the higher-class Slytherins – the git should've realized what would happen – me, for killing the thing, when it was a ridiculous thing to do. You, for running to Albus bloody Dumbledore." Harry winced slightly, though he thought he managed to hide it from Snape - the man wasn't paying particularly much attention in any case.

Snape scowled in response, but didn't disagree; it seemed he'd already realized where Harry was going with this, and that he couldn't stop him from speaking out. Finally, he nodded, grimacing. "I don't apologize for it. It was the only choice that seemed right to me."

Harry smiled thinly, thinking back to the story that portrait Regulus had recounted – another 'joke' gone wrong, except this time it wasn't Marauders but Slytherins that were responsible. The Taggarts, a pair of half-blood Slytherins generally despised by their house for their blood-status had smuggled a small dog into the castle, when they first joined the school. The teachers pretended not to notice, willing to cut the two some slack, given the amount of trouble they got in anyway due to their membership of that house. After repeated attempts to get at the two via their pet by pureblood bigots, they'd asked Gryffindors to protect the little creature, thinking they'd at least be honourable. Stupidly enough, they'd gone to the Marauders, the most visible opponents to those very purebloods.

Things had gone bad – although it appeared from portrait Regulus' story that his father and Lupin had been amiable about the whole thing and were not the type to blame first-year Slytherins for all the ills in the world, Sirius had been stupid, and ratted out the two while taunting Regulus, as he was prone to do. The dog, unfortunately, had been taken and reappeared, quite definitely deceased, at breakfast the following morning.

The reactions of some of his peers – both good and bad – had convinced Regulus that his actions had been in the right, as he'd gained some notoriety among the kind of people Voldemort attracted to himself. It had taken a year or two after that for Regulus to realize that they had been beyond the pale, and he'd looked up the Taggarts, both of whom had left Hogwarts in their second year. It turned out, years later, that they were some of the earliest victims of the Second War, though the boy had died before that became known.

Harry felt that Snape's part in what happened was perhaps the most tragic, and might have led to Regulus joining the Death Eaters – the portrait didn't know that far into the boy's life, unfortunately, so the most he could build from was Snape's reactions; one of the few times he'd actually seen the man's ironclad façade slip. What he did know was that Snape had elected to tell Dumbledore about the events with the Taggarts' dog, and had gotten Regulus a large number of punishments, as well as the teacher's attention. Whatever the details, it had been sufficiently impressive to the portrait -and by extension younger- Regulus that it'd been the one story he'd consistently keep identical without exaggeration, and with a haunted look in his eyes.

Harry wondered if any of this had contributed to Sirius' brother's stint as a follower of Voldemort, or if it had always been inevitable at the time, spurred on by his compatriots, ultimately leading to his demise. Regardless, the events had clearly shaped a loathing between Snape and Black, which had now been dredged back up, despite one of the two being a mere actor.

"Severus," Harry said, deciding that a little could go a long way here. "For your part in the events… I don't blame you." Snape stared suspiciously over his shoulder. "Not anymore. I made my own mistakes. Stupid mistakes."

"Keep your platitudes to yourself, Black." Snape scoffed, his wand still clenched in his fist. "You had your chance, years ago. I have not forgetten your attempt on my life."

"I was hardly the same person," Harry answered. "I've been working my way out of the state of mind I had back then for more than a decade – give me a little credit."

"I'll believe it when I see it." Snape gestured eastwards towards the hillside. "If we go across these, we should arrive northwest of the dragons' position, and the abductees should be nearby."

Harry nodded, scaling the hill without difficulty, followed quickly by his companion who was breathing decidedly harder when reaching the top. Harry supposed his age and fitness helped, or perhaps Snape had simply been inhaling too many toxic potion fumes; he had the brief suspicion that the man simply didn't have a habit of leaving the dungeons at all. Harry frowned at what he saw as he looked out over the hills - clearly visible to the east was what appeared to be a fenced off village full of tents; white signs were attached to the fences which were topped with barbed wire and several large hangars were visible further in.

"It's a Muggle military installation," Snape observed, frowning. "Likely not in use – all the rust would suggest as much. Very curious that the Dark Lord would elect to use such a location."

"It's merely a place for transport, isn't it?" Harry wondered, glancing at the older man. "Are we going to run into any Muggle weaponry? That stuff can kill us as well as spells could…" Harry felt dumb for asking, but he knew full well that Regulus was a pureblood and the Ministry would not likely go into this kind of thing either. He was somewhat surprised that Snape knew, actually.

"It's small, it's probably not equipped with anything much, and I wouldn't expect the Dark Lord to care for Muggle technology, much less the kind of people he's got working for him, these days." Snape shrugged, pulling up his cowl and covering his face. "Those hangars will allow them to hide their numbers easily, though."

"Let's keep it silent," Harry suggested, frowning again at the extremely poor excuse for a disillusionment charm that Snape was using. "Get a proper spell up to hide you, for one. This one wouldn't hide you on a black background."

"What are you blathering about, Black?" He looked down at his arm and squinted. "I can barely see myself, let alone you – I have to get within a foot before I can even make out your face." He raised an eyebrow, curious. "Looking through invisibility charms is quite a skill for someone at poor at wandless magic as yourself. I recall your frustrated attempts at that levitation …"

Harry grumbled, his mind racing. Seeing through invisibility was a skill Dumbledore had – he recalled himself with his cloak, sitting at the foot of the Mirror of Erised as it showed him his parents. The man had treated seeing through the cloak as if it was nothing, though he really doubted it. Now he was doing it himself – without any spells, too. Harry suspected that if there were actual spells to do this, he'd probably have learned them by now from the Unspeakables or in Hogwarts; a heat-seeking charm was the closest he'd heard of.

Blinking, he recalled that Moody's disillusionment spell had also been awful – back at the beginning of summer. He'd commented on it, he thought – that it was fine. Had he been able to see through these spells for that long and not noticed?

"Well, if you can see through these spells – keep a look-out for sentries," Snape said grudgingly, looking somewhat – impressed? Harry couldn't quite keep the shock off his face, though thankfully Snape was far enough away that he'd probably not notice it, anyway. With a quick flourish of his wand he cast soundproofing charms on both his and Snape's shoes – it wouldn't do to be caught by something so simplistic.

"Here we go, then."

"This is so completely insane," Remus muttered as he pulled Rafe forward by his robe, sending him an annoyed glare. "Act like an Unspeakable or something, Phelan."

Rafe rolled his eyes, glancing behind him at the three others that followed. "Can't help it, it's been too long since I've got in a good bit of trouble with dark wizards – it gets addicting, you know? Not to mention we can get a bit of badass werewolf acrobatics going!" He flipped casually on his hands and back, effortlessly throwing his own weight around. "Bastards won't know what hit 'em."

"Rafe." Remus sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. "It's possible he is here. Focus."

Rafe blinked, gulping. "You're not talking about snake face, are you? You're talking about Fenrir. I thought he was out somewhere in central Europe?"

"Where do you think we are?" Remus asked dryly, quickly dragging Rafe along to the next hill, everyone else following silent as the night, covered under more silencing charms than Remus cared to count. "Does Romania not count on your map?"

Rafe chuckled nervously with an embarrassed grin. "Never been that good in geography, to be honest – astronomy's more my thing if any of them sciences are, by necessity. Well, I do plenty of other stuff too, of course. Now blowing things up - there's my talent!"

"Silent, now." Remus said, as he cast a super sensory charm on his already sensitive ears. His ears twitched as he closed his eyes to concentrate, listening for any sounds that might break through the charms that had been set up around the entire area up ahead. He nodded, quickly cancelling it, turning to Hestia and the twins. "I can hear at least four people – there's silencing charms on the big buildings, but none outside, where they're walking. The dragons are bound to be inside those buildings – leftovers from the Muggle military, if I'm not mistaken."

"Definitely," Rafe confirmed, looking seriously across the hillside – a thin red line was visible a few feet away – some kind of tripwire ward that was actually strong enough to be visible, which would probably alert every Death Eater in the entire base to their location. Great.

"Are we just going to trip that?" Hestia wondered, looking at it in interest. Remus blanched, turning to her in shock.

"Haven't you taken a proper look at that?" She did, then - the line was smoldering slightly, a fiery hue reminiscent of a hearth fire, though much more concentrated. It also - seemed to shiver with cropped up power, ready to lash out. "That thing's got more than enough power to burn us all to ash – it's a killing ward. Unless you're wearing an actual Dark Mark, I doubt you're going through that at all."

"How'd they get the dragons in or out if that's the case?" Hestia observed hesitantly. "Not to mention the abductees…"

"Good point." Remus conceded. "It's bound to be related to the Dark Mark, though – the wards Dumbledore took down during the summer were visible like this too, and they all worked that way as well. In fact, Moody had to lop one guy's arm off just to-" He stopped, eyes widening. "Of course! Moody used one of their arms to pass through such a ward – you don't actually have to have one, you just need to be touching someone who does!"

"Well, that's just great," George muttered. "Where's Snape when you need him? There's a sentence I never thought I'd say…"

"Everything that gets passed through these gets destroyed?" Fred asked, interested, reaching into his pockets and sorting through what seemed to be quite a few different types of lint, a rubber chicken, and a most impressive collection of multicoloured sweets. "Are you sure?"

"People, at least, get destroyed," Remus said uneasily. "Unless you have a way to turn us into inanimate objects without hurting us, we're not getting through – and you're no Professor McGonagall, Mr. Weasley."

"I might have something, though," Fred answered with certainty, smiling broadly as he fished a pair of large round rubber hoops out of his pocket, that definitely shouldn't have fit in there. "These were a discarded prototype for the shop – the magic was far too unstable for actual travel. Range far too short for most wards, even – Except this is just a line."

"We developed it after our original ideas regarding the Age-Line failed, back when the Triwizard Tournament was just beginning." George supplied, realizing what his brother's idea was and a wicked smile appearing on his face as well. "Transportation Circles – need a snappier name, I think – inanimate objects that allow you to move from one to the other without crossing the distance in between."

Fred held one up – the circle was somewhat floppy, looking decidedly like a big round piece of rubbery tubing, springing slightly in his grip. George grabbed the other, holding it very close to the first, carefully holding it in place near the other, mere inches apart.

"What am I supposed to be seeing?" Remus asked, blinking.

Hestia gasped as Fred stuck his arm through – Remus saw nothing, but like the dark-haired woman, Rafe seemed perplexed by the view that he was getting. He quickly made his way over, suddenly realizing what they saw – Fred's arm completely vanished in one of the hoops and appeared out the other – but the gap between the two was completely empty, no arm in sight, and the back of the circles looked a dull black.

"That's… incredible!" Rafe stammered. "That's space-time manipulation with magic! You have to let me study that, it's supposed to be impossible to transfer matter or energy without-"

"Later." Remus said, clapping a hand over the fellow werewolf's mouth as he nodded at the twins. "We can use those to pass through the wards?"

"If we levitate them close together and then freeze them, they should hold for a minute or two," Fred confirmed. "Passing all of us through them though – I doubt they'll be in any shape after we're done, as the things do run out of magic – I only have one other pair. I think we'll have to count on getting that ward down or having Snape and Black escort us back out."

"Set it up," Remus said confidently. "We can take out as many as we can before they are on to us, and divert attention away from the hangars – we'll have to trust Snape and Black to hold up their side of the plan."

"This is going to be such a mess," Hestia muttered, wiping her long black hair out of her eyes and readying her wand for combat – both the Weasley twins had several small red spheres in their hand, wand in the other, each imprinted with a sleepy face and the letters 'ZZZ by WWW' – the very best in aerosolized sleeping potion, courtesy of Muggle technology and a deft spot of magic. Rafe looked like he was about to go to a party, eyes wild and gleeful as he twirled his wand manically and barely suppressing what would probably have been a mad cackle.

"This is going to be SUCH a mess. Love it!"

Harry and Snape had made their way very close to the hangars, close enough to see two wizards patrolling the grounds, clad in dark robes and wearing their Death Eater masks. Before Harry ran a clearly visible red ward line, sizzling slightly with power – a nastily effective ward that Harry had read all about on one of his first days into researching Death Eater tactics, and which was allegedly capable of killing a man before he realized he'd tripped the thing.

"We wait for the signal, then go through," Snape stated; Harry agreed, making sure to keep close to Snape. He was quite sure his own faux-Dark Mark wouldn't let him pass the very real ward, and he couldn't make it obvious that he was tagging along. Grabbing his robe should be sufficient, as the line was supposed to work based on proximity.

"There's a disillusioned sentry heading our way," Harry hissed as he noted a man walking quite confidently along the edge of the wards, idly twirling his wand in his hand as he hummed something under his breath. The man's mask was grey and somewhat in disrepair, suggesting he was at the very least a veteran of the last war.

"He won't see," Snape whispered, "Let him pass."

'Knowing my luck…' Harry thought, shaking his head as he kept his head down, barely ten feet from the man now, though his invisibility charms were up to par as the Death Eater's eyes passed over their area without halting a moment. Finally, he turned away, back to the camp.

A flash of light erupted in front of Snape and he barely managed to suppress a curse as it vanished – the patronus had been too brief to make out a shape, but it had been enough – unfortunately, not just for them.

"What was that?" The Death Eater that had been about to leave said aloud as he doubled back, his wand ready in his hand as he carefully walked to the ward line. He squinted as he looked over the bushes just outside the ward line. This was very bad – if Harry and Snape were caught now, both of them would doubtlessly be killed, as they had no way to counter all of the Death Eaters at once. They had to take out the Death Eaters way of communication, and get to shelter. Harry tapped Snape on the shoulder and scooted uncomfortably close.

"When I hit – run. They'll converge on this location, but we won't be here." Harry didn't wait for a response, getting himself upright, his wand flying through a series of motions as quickly as he could, just as the burly Death Eater noticed the ripple effect in the air that betrayed Harry's presence and his hand snatched out to grab his marked arm.

Snape was quicker – he'd shot upright before Harry could do a thing, a vicious-looking cutting curse ripping through the enemy wizard's arm like a knife through butter, lobbing it straight off with a great spray of blood and a sickening wet sound. The man was hit with a silencing charm before he could cry out, though he still tried to send a spell off with his other arm, still holding his wand – Snape had destroyed the man's Dark Mark first, and he wouldn't be in time to –

Harry acted, before he'd really thought it through. Without even thinking of a spell he yanked the man forward – a wandless summoning charm. It wasn't very strong and he hadn't focused where he was going at all, but the man stumbled and pitched forward, spell interrupted – and tripped straight through the ward line.

Unfortunately for all of them, he'd just lost his Dark Mark.

The clamour that erupted was incredible – it sounded like dozens of claxons went off at once, covering the entire base in screeching howls. Harry didn't realize he'd stopped moving entirely until Snape forcefully dragged him along by the arm across the ward, quickly sprinting towards the Muggle military hangars and slipping behind the nearest one, before anyone could notice the tripped alarm. More alarms were going off elsewhere on the base – Remus' group, providing their distraction given that it was rather immediately necessary. Harry collected himself, trying to ignore the fact that – that he'd just killed someone. By accident, admittedly – on the spur of the moment, without meaning to – but he'd done it. He almost wanted to giggle to himself – finally the Daily Prophet was right about something!

"Black, focus." Snape barked, though his face was nearly a whisper. "They're distracted – two alarms are going off at different locations and I do not believe anyone noticed our approach. Finding Weasley and the Dragon Keepers comes first, we can discuss your little stunt back there later." He motioned for Harry to follow. "Make sure they don't strike me in the back – I cannot risk being taken, for obvious reasons."

Harry nodded, distractedly feeling his breast pocket to confirm that he was still carrying Scrimgeour's collection of hair samples, just in case he'd need them, as well as two little bottles of Polyjuice Potion that Snape had given him – he felt decidedly vulnerable right now, given that the illusions he cast on himself would come apart fairly easily under the right kind of spells. Thankfully Scrimgeour had access to something Harry had never expected, and he had the suspicion the man hadn't given it along for fun. An emergency solution.

"Sectumsempra!" Snape blasted another one of those incredibly nasty cutting curses, one that he'd never even heard of, just missing a sentry that had dumbly decided to stand in the open and try to determine where the enemy was. Harry kept a close eye on Snape as he himself sent a more generic cutting curse in the same direction, the thin reddish blade of magic passing overhead harmlessly.

"You can do better than that," Snape commented, snarling another curse, a little louder than Harry thought comfortable. It was about time he started pulling his own weight, it seemed – no time to think about what had happened.

"Deprimo!"

The overpowered gravity charm managed to floor the fleeing wizard that was trying to head back to the hangar from which three Death Eaters were just appearing, each wearing rather singed clothes – the dragons were definitely further back in this base, then. The charm did a little more than merely stun him – the Death Eater crashed through his leg in an instant, the enormous increase in perceived gravity convincing him his leg couldn't support him and awkwardly twisting it beneath him as he fell with his full weight on it. Harry winced at the man's agonized cry of pain.

"That's more like it," Snape noted gleefully, his eyes beaming with a light Harry had never seen in them before, but which he should've expected – Snape had long been said to want the Defence against the Dark Arts teaching position and he now realized why. Just like he was a master at brewing Potions, this man revelled in duelling, in Wizarding battle.

Slipping into the first hangar was easy – it had many doors, and a simple Alohomora was sufficient to open them, as they hadn't been charmed closed – of course, that could be because this first one was entirely empty, a vast open hall with a few half-rusted airplanes parked haphazardly at one end, looking decidedly rusted and decrepit. Not a single Death Eater was inside, but that wouldn't be the case much longer, as it was a rather obvious place to hide. Before the two had managed to jog halfway across, the door on the other side opened and Snape cursed – out here in the open, the distortion caused by disillusionment charms would be more obvious, and clearly they'd already been spotted before he even cursed as two cutting curses flashed by in an instant.

"Conturbo!" Harry yelled out, side-stepping a blue-green bolt that splashed into the ground behind him to no visible effect. His jinx briefly dazed one of the Death Eaters, as the man reached for his head and awkwardly cast a shield charm, shaking off the sudden attack that Harry had hit him with. Snape slashes ahead with 'Sectumsempra' again – it was as powerful and incredibly violent as ever, tearing into the enemy's shields, though they held the dark spell back. Harry concentrated on his own target, narrowing his eyes as he considered his options.

A flame-charm crossed by his leg as Harry quickly darted sideways, his wand jutting forward quickly for a spell he'd used to good effect before. "Fidus Attingo!" The True Strike Charm was traditionally considered a bit of a joke - it was fairly weak and it would only follow an enemy for a brief while - but overpowered, it could do some damage. The Death Eater cried out as he was pulled backwards off his feet, crashing to the floor in an undignified heap, though Harry didn't relent from casting, knowing that any wounds were superficial. "Expulso!"

Snape had managed to subdue his enemy, hitting him in the face with a stunning charm that wasn't properly defended against. Harry's own enemy crawled up into a ball with a pained grimace, bleeding from numerous superficial wounds. He looked around, panicked, as he realized the odds were stacked against him. Before he could get to his feet, he toppled to the floor wrapped in tight ropes, courtesy of Harry.

"Only two?" Harry asked cautiously as silence descended, looking suspiciously at the nearest, who was unconscious. "Either Remus and the others are doing a hell of a job, or something's wrong."

Snape grunted, dragging the Death Eater to the side of the hall and putting disillusionment charms on the unconscious bodies. He looked uncertainly at them. Harry shared his uncertainty – they couldn't very well let them get back to Voldemort, but could hardly kill them in cold blood.

"Put them under a stasis charm," Harry finally concluded. "That should keep them safe for a week or so – more than long enough for some Aurors to pick them up."

"Stasis charms?"

Harry blinked, realizing that this kind of magic he was learning from the Unspeakables wasn't in general use – especially not given that it was usually only used within the Department itself. Still – this was the perfect opportunity. Normally used to store animals for extended periods of time in a sort of time-freeze, stasis spells were occasionally used for prisoners, as a relatively short exposure didn't harm them. Croaker had been a particular fan, noting that the magic in question, if properly perfected, could actually serve as a sort of permanent prison – thankfully, nobody had figured that use it like that yet, as there was something horrifying about being able to literally lose years in the blink of an eye.

"I'd rather you turn around," Harry said uneasily, muttering the only such charm he knew under his breath – he'd used it to transport several brains from the Thought Room to another, as they very much loathed being moved, and the charm would make them unable to feel it. The two dark wizard's bodies stiffened in their poses – Harry carefully levitated them under one of the planes, certain that nobody would trip over and find them there. Under the charm, not even heat should be detectable – though he supposed Voldemort would detect them right away, were he to come here.

"Done?"

Harry nodded, following Snape across the hangar to the door that the two Death Eaters had used, frowning at the blood that he noticed on Snape's sleeve. "Did any of them get you?"

"Just a graze," Snape brushed off, his eyes focused on the next hangar, making sure his cowl was on tight. Fighting could be heard in the distance – Rafe's voice was unmistakable, shouting curses at the top of his lungs, though the impressively large plumes of flame bursting across the sky suggested that they were more than mere show. No Death Eaters were between the hangars, all seemingly tied up at the battle.

"We need to get across and into the next hangar," Harry said with certainty, wiping the hair out of his face with a frown. "I don't trust this calm."

"A trap," Snape deduced. "They do not care if we come through here – they must have set up a place to wait us out, to catch us unawares. It suggests they knew we were coming."

Harry thought back to Scrimgeour with a shiver – that man had information on the future, knowing the missions he was going on before he'd even done them and reading mission reports that weren't written yet. It seemed to become an uncomfortable truth that everyone around him knew more about what would be happening than he did.

"How strong is your blasting curse?" Harry asked distractedly, focusing his mind on the Confringo spell he'd fired off at the Ministry, and gauging its power – it had taken quite a bit out of him, but it'd been able to rip down part of a magically enhanced wall, so a normal Muggle construction shouldn't stand a chance, even if it was metal.

"…Why?"

Harry shrugged, stalking forward without a word as Snape was forced to keep up, glaring venomously at 'Regulus' who merely smirked. A sufficiently powerful blasting curse would be able to smash and pulverize most any defence the Death Eaters set up – and two would ruin their day. It'd be a great parting shot – if they could find the abductees, first.

Charlie Weasley was very uncomfortable – bound by his wrists and feet to a pole was embarrassing enough, but he was hanging horizontally down from it, dangerously close to a currently peacefully slumbering but most definitely horribly dangerous Norwegian Ridgeback. Though he liked dragons rather much, hanging in the gaseous fumes that escaped with every exhale was a gruelling experience that he'd rather not have gone through.

Along with himself three others were tied to similar poles, each divested of their wand and other magical items, clothed merely in their robes; they'd been here for, what, days now? The dragons had arrived before they did – unconscious as they were, nobody knew how they'd arrived there, and even being able to talk to each other had done little, given that all of them were very much tied up. Margaret Agrippa, George Aubrey and Dobrynya Nikitich were each bound before a dragon; Dob had been the only one that'd not woken up once since the beginning of this hellish time, and Charlie almost envied him.

He'd been hearing odd noises for a few minutes now – high-pitched whines, low groans, something that reminded him rather of electricity, like the zaps his father got whenever he was playing around with some Muggle equipment he shouldn't be. He could swear he heard human voices, though he was uncertain, it was too far away.

"Margaret?"

"Eh?"

"Do you hear that? Are they fighting?" Charlie frowned, straining his ears. "You don't suppose…?"

"Took them bloody long enough," George said, sighing deeply. "The damn cavalry has arrived, that's what – I bet someone's here to kick some Death Muncher behind!" He laughed slightly, though it changed into a cough as he breathed in Lindy's toxic fumes – the dragon was quite wounded and barely moved even in her artificially induced sleep, but she was as tied up as any of the others here – ready to be shipped off to Merlin-knows-where.

"The Romanians, you think?"

"'Course not," Margaret answered dismissively. "They wouldn't send an Auror if someone set the Romanian Minister for Magic on fire. Nah, this must be Brits."

"Risking their lives to save ours?" George whistled appreciatively. "What kind of force do you reckon they brought? I mean, if they unleash even one of these beasties, they're going to have a bad time, even with a hundred people…"

Charlie shrugged, trying to focus on the distant battles but uncertain about what he heard. He looks around himself with concern – he and the others were locked in one of the nastiest-looking places in the entire complex, as they'd been shoved from one to the other room, some huge and full of Muggle contraptions, others small and cramped and stinking vaguely of moldy paper. Now, he was among giants – besides the dragons, there were these shapes, above, that George feared so much –large, bulbous figures, suspended from the roof in tall racks, many of which had been stripped away by the Death Eaters to house the dragons, secure behind thick metal doors. They'd left behind many of the cylinder-shaped objects as well that were stacked to great heights.

George had known what they were, even if the pureblood Death Eaters hadn't. He'd known and nearly fainted when he realized just how much was stacked around them, how much destructive potential, leftover from some Muggle war of old that never started – or ended in time.

The Death Eaters had locked them up along with several fire-breathing dragons in the middle of a forgotten munitions depot.

Remus ducked under another curse, snarling in response as he sprang forward, his enhanced physical strength allowing him to dodge out of the way of the blistering curse easily – for a brief moment, he understood what Rafe saw in this, fighting with a werewolf's power, before he snapped off a stunner at one of the Death Eaters and sent her crumpling to the floor. They'd only just crossed the barrier, safely inside the lethal ward ring, when an alarm had started blaring on the other edge of the camp – where Snape and 'Regulus' were supposed to enter.

Without a second thought Remus had revealed himself to the nearest Death Eater with a heartfelt punch to the face – the dark wizard had immediately set off the alarms, diverting attention away from the distant one in favour of his own position, which was close to the entrance and as such right in everyone's vision.

Twelve Death Eaters had come and attacked simultaneously – had he been alone, Remus would've been screwed. Thankfully, Fred and George had joined in immediately and with fervour, throwing large numbers of red spheres at the enemy that exploded on impact, spreading a vapour around in great billowing clouds of red that obscured sight and had secondary side-effects; beyond turning one's hair pink, several Death Eaters were on the ground, out like a light – the sleeping potion taking effect too quickly to be counteracted.

Hestia Jones stayed back, casting shield charms on everyone whenever they were running low, as her stunner was too weak to do any damage. The real surprise, for everyone, was Rafe. Joking and excited one moment, the man had done a complete turn-around and whipped out one of the most destructive magical attacks any of them had ever seen – a vast cone of fire, blasting forward at incredible speed and setting two of the Death Eaters on fire, while the others were knocked on their behinds by the pressure of the impact. The blast wave had been magnificent and Rafe had stood stoically at the heart of it as he waited for the dust to settle and the cries to die down.

It didn't take long to become clear what Rafe's specialty was. After the flaming assault had left the enemy shocked and terrified, he'd followed it up with an attack that was perhaps even more frightening; a bolt of lightning blasted from his wand, launching its way towards the enemy and sending several to the floor with convulsions, their limbs not responding as they tried to recuperate from an attack that didn't even hit them – they'd just caught the edges of the blast that had rocketed across the soil. Where it hit, it left scorch marks, glassy residue leaking down from the edges.

"Come on, Remus." Rafe said calmly as said person had briefly stopped in his attacks to gape. Rafe was tinkering absentmindedly with a bracelet on his arm as he turned and smiled slightly. "I can't keep this up forever."

Remus had to admit – he was more than impressed. The kind of magic Rafe was throwing around he'd only seen one person cast before – Albus Dumbledore. Granted, the old man could probably do even more incredible stuff in his chosen field of Transfiguration, as he'd long earned Mastery in that – but Rafe's sheer destructive power was awe-inspiring to behold, and he doubted if there were many that could match it. He wondered briefly if this was the kind of power that came with being an Unspeakable, given that this was not normal Wizarding magic. Before he could think on it further a cutting curse zoomed by his face and he ducked – he narrowly avoided adding yet another scar to his collection.

Fred and George finally ran out of sleeping spheres, electing to go for the next attraction – portable swamps popped up in several locations, forcing Death Eaters to avoid them lest they become stuck in the loamy soil – Rafe, unlike the Order members, was pulling no punches and they knew it. It'd been clear uncomfortably quickly that they man paid no attention to whether or not his target was killed, merely that they were enemies

It was disturbing, Remus concluded – the once-friendly Rafe was still the same in daily life – but out here, he was a veritable monster – a killing machine. A chill made its way to his heart as he thought about the fact that these were the kind of people Harry now worked with. He really didn't seem out of place in this military installation, he thought distractedly.

"The last of the twelve Death Eaters fell, twitching, to one of the Weasley Twins' inventions as it wrapped itself around the man forcefully. Rafe was fine – he looked winded, but nothing more. Remus had barely contributed, he realized – he'd been so shocked by the display that his spells had petered out halfway through. Hestia was busily conjuring bandages for the Weasleys who had both managed to get several burns from handling volatile items, though none from spells.

Not one of the Death Eaters had actually managed to get a hit in. How…?

"This isn't right," Rafe muttered. "Those were… newbies, I think. Why would they…?"

A clapping sound interrupted him – it continued steadily, as a chuckling man appeared from the shadows, his deranged smile screaming danger. His eyes were wild and his mane dishevelled and rough, but Rafe nor Remus had any problem identifying him.

"What do you want, Greyback?" the former asked, growling slightly. "Come to die?"

"Little Phelan," Fenrir Greyback answered, smirking widely as he spread his arms – several Death Eaters lined up beside him, all decidedly more experienced than the previous ones if their straight-backed formation was anything to go by. "I know all about your penchant for exaggeration – I figured I'd let you work out your rage a bit, before I killed you."

"I'm not done yet," Rafe responded coldly, his eyes narrow. "You still deserve death – for what you did to me, for what you did to Remus."

"You use my gift, hypocrite." The werewolf Death Eater stretched. "You use the gift of Lycaon to give yourself an edge – you enjoy it. It may have been involuntary in the beginning, but at least Remus can lay claim to stick with that. You…" He shook his head disgustedly. "There are so many who embrace this great boon..."

Fred, George and Hestia looked on hesitantly as the three werewolves faced off, looking decidedly more feral than strictly reasonable without a full moon. Rafe twisted his bracelet around – it glowed softly, obviously magical in nature; a weapon? Remus had his wand at the ready, looking in indecision between the large group of wizards that were now facing off with them and Rafe – they former were all masked and cowled so they could be anyone, but Fenrir's presence was telling. These were werewolves. Voldemort's werewolves.

"Argentum Sagittis!"

A rain of silver fell from the sky.

Author's Note: Took a while, but Torikaeru got me distracted and as a consequence this one kept being shoved back – the second half of this little battle of the second war will continue next time.

P.S. I'm somewhat annoyed when reviews are made (particularly rude/negative ones) that are unsigned - it seems somewhat cowardly to make sure you can't actually be answered for such a review. This has happened a few times now - they all sounds very similar so I wouldn't be surprised if it's the same person multiple times, I suppose. I could remove them, but I'll leave other people to decide whether or not they're right. -shrug-

Stay tuned for more in Mission Romania - Attrition