Chapter Fifteen: The Temple at Delphi
When the news about the massacre came, it came with a bang and a bellow and a roar that all but ripped Diagon Alley in two.
People ran through the streets, proclaiming rumor after rumor. The deaths of the entire wizarding village were enough to send most people to fits. It was the manner of their deaths that caused the panic.
Knockturn Alley was a shady place, full of dirt and even more questionable people. When they had first arrived, Hermione had turned to Tom with a wild look and an exclamation on her lips.
"Hush now, Ms. Hermione," Tom had stopped her before she could start. "You want a fight? Well, this is the place where the Ministry sends the people who they don't like. You'll not find better fighters anywhere. Come now. It's not far."
They'd wound their way into Knockturn Alley. It was far deeper than Hermione had first thought. Several other streets branched off from it. The further they went, the less dirt and grime became apparent. It had bothered Hermione to no end.
"Tom?" She'd stopped him at a crossroads. "Where are we? And why's it so different?"
The barkeep had drawn her aside, so they were half hidden by a doorway. "It's Knockturn Alley, Hermione. It's the place where the rest of the wizarding world throws the things they don't want to think about. It's not at all nasty, really. They keep the area nearest Diagon Alley like that to ward off the curious."
"I don't understand."
A pitying expression had passed across his face. "I know you don't, Ms. Ganger. I'll explain as we go. But we can't stay in one place too long. There are dangerous types about." With that he'd taken her hand and led her away, talking as they went.
Brothels were down Lavender Alley, he'd told her. Apothecary Place was where all manner of Dark potions and other things were sold. To her surprise, not all of the shops specialized in the illegal. Some, she found, were focused on the diseases that the wizarding world would not lower itself to consider. Potions for mental problems. Potions for illnesses that had no magical cure. Allergies, even, she'd found, were suspect in a world which if it did not appear perfect, then it must be deviant.
At last, Tom had led her down a small path that wound its way between two tall buildings. It was dank, dark and more than a little scary. Hermione had held tight to his hand, all the way to the unmarked door set into the brick wall.
He'd rapped a number of times; if it was a code, then she had missed it. The query was met by the door flinging itself open and a small man all but throwing himself at Tom.
"Tommy!" The man broke the hold Hermione had on the barkeep's hand. "Tommy we haven't seen you in ages!"
Tom thumped the small man on the back and then pried him away. "Alex, I want to introduce you to someone."
As they parted, Hermione got a better look at the man. He was small, slight and had a disturbingly feminine air. His hair was brown, but pulled back by a black headband. He had been wearing make up, Hermione had realized with a start.
Alex turned to look at her. The open, friendly expression had wiped itself clean. "Another lost soul?" He'd asked.
"Not quite," Tom had sighed. "Look, can we come inside? I'll explain everything."
That was how Hermione found herself in a room full of people her parents would have had a coronary about, if they'd known.
The group Tom had introduced her to had no name. It was harder to track that way, she'd been told. They were almost all exiles from the wizarding world, for one reason or the other. Alex was banned for his desire to dress in female clothing. The others had more serious crimes to their name.
Carey was a Potions Mistress. She ran one of the shops in Apothecary Place. Her drug use had her expelled from Hogwarts in her fifth year. She'd found her way to Knockturn Alley and had never left. Mark was the owner of a shop that dabbled in muggle technology mixed with wizarding charms. Matthew ran a secondhand clothing shop, while his wife, Shelly, ran a small café out of the deteriorating kitchen in the back of the building. The last person Hermione was introduced to was Colin, and what Colin did, was or was affiliated to, she didn't know. But he was clearly the head of the small group Tom had brought her to, and he…well. She was afraid of him the most.
Tom had stayed long enough to explain Hermione's wish to the group. Then he'd been whisked out the door by a grinning Alex, leaving her alone with the small crowd.
Carey leaned forward, her cup held loose in her hands. "So you're a Hogwarts brat, then?" Hermione thought she would have been a pretty woman, if she hadn't had half a dozen bits of metal in each ear and enough make up on to make even Susan Bones blanch.
"Yes," she rubbed her palms on her jeans and tried not to blush.
"What House?"
"Gryffindor."
They all exchanged glances. "The House that kicked Potter out."
Hermione winced. "Yes," she admitted.
"You have any part in that?"
She drew in a long breath. "Yes. I started the petition. I was the reason they kicked him out."
Colin's eyes narrowed. He was the only one of them standing. "That's pretty rotten of you," he said.
"More than rotten," she met his eyes. "It was horrid, stupid and unforgivable."
Something in his eyes changed. "And yet you're here. Trying to clear his name."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because."
"We need more than that."
Hermione dropped her gaze for a moment. She set her jaw and looked up. "I won't betray him again. Harry's a good person. He's the best. He did everything to save us. The whole world's gone crazy, and I'll be damned if I let them tear him down because they're all too afraid to accept change."
"You just might be damned," Colin pushed off the wall he was leaning against. "You just might be exiled, thrown from the wizarding world like a piece of trash. Could you stand that, kid? Could you stand being ripped from the only thing you've been working for your entire life?"
Her chin went up. "I'm muggleborn," she narrowed her eyes at him. "I got my letter at eleven. I've worked hard these last few years to fit in, to make this world mine. But I won't let it destroy me. I can live in the muggle world if I have to. I don't see why I should. This is just as much as my home as there."
"And if they throw you out?"
"They'll have to do better than a piece of paper to make me leave."
"Gryffindors," Carey muttered, leaning back. "Merlin help us."
The hint of a smile curled Colin's lips. It made his expression less fearful. "You might just fit in, Missy."
"My name's Hermione."
"Naw," he tilted his head to one side. "I like Missy more."
"Well that's too bad," she retorted. "It's Hermione. I quite like my name and I'm keeping it."
"Well, she'll fit in for sure," Mark snorted. He slapped his leg and stood. "I'm sure you have some questions for us, eh?" He shot Colin a look. Hermione couldn't read what went on between them.
"Well, yes…" She frowned at them. "What is it, exactly, that you all do?"
Colin moved to take Mark's seat. "Well, we're the ones who like to start rumors in Diagon Alley," he began.
Hermione felt her nails dig into her legs. "Did you start any about Harry?" It was her turn to go on the offensive.
Colin's eyebrow rose. "Why no, but thanks for the vote of confidence. We're currently trying to get the preachers out of their corners. Haven't had much luck there. There's some talk of a temple to all gods being put up near Gringotts', but whether it's gotten past the talk stage, none of us know."
"What else?"
"What else, what?"
"What else do you do? Do you contact people in the muggle world? Tom said you're interested in having a working relationship with people who can't do magic. To integrate everything. Do you work on that as well?"
A second round of glances went through the group. "Well, yes and no."
"Yes and no?"
Collin's laugh held no mirth. "It's hard to get a foothold in a place that doesn't believe you."
"There's plenty of people in the muggle world who would love to believe you."
"Yes, but they're all considered crackpots by the rest of the populace."
Hermione shrugged. "The Christians were considered crackpots by the Romans. Now look at the world."
Carey's snort was covered by a grubby hand. "I think you'll fit in fine." She rose and stretched, several vertebra popping as she cracked her back. "Look, Herm, we have a lot of ideas. We've all been trying to do what we can, when we can. But we didn't come together as a group till a few years ago. As much as Colin hates to admit it, we're stuck in a rut. So here we are. Full of ideas, but with no where to put them."
Colin shot her a look. "We have plans," he began.
Carey shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. "Another thing he won't tell you, Herm, is that Tom was the one who got us all together. He was the last of some group that tried to change the world. He's our eyes in Diagon Alley. He's the one who knew we were trying to change things again. The rest of us," her thumb jerk encompassed the room, "none of us are over thirty. None of us were old enough to really fight in the first war against Voldemort. But we all lived through it, and the aftermath." Her mouth thinned down into an unhappy line. "All of us know what happens next. And we don't want that to happen this time. You hear me?"
"I hear you," Hermione said.
"If you're done spilling our secrets," Colin snapped. He was stopped by the door flying open and Alex rushing in.
"Something's happened!" Alex was sopping wet. "There's been another attack! People are rioting in Diagon Alley!"
Hermione had little time to react. The group around her went to work. Before she knew it, she had a ratty robe thrown over her cloths and a cap over her hair. Then she was out the door, following the line of Colin's broad back, heading for the roaring chaos that had been Diagon Alley.
Of all the damn Gryffindor things to do, Hermione, her mind whispered. But then they were in the fray, and there was no more time for thinking.
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The cave appeared before them. Draco was all but driven to his knees from the force of their arrival. The flickering entrance bade them welcome. Draco hoped the sentiment would be echoed by the inhabitants inside.
The two adults were hot on his heels as he entered. Pythia was standing near the hearth, her arms wrapped around her middle as they walked in.
"Draco?" Her expression was shocked. "How did you get here? What is…" Her gaze traveled to the bundle in his arms. "Oh, Zeus," she swore and hurried to his side.
Homer appeared from the back of the cave, a dead goat slung over his shoulder. He took one look at Draco and dropped the carcass with a shrug. Lucius and Severus had their wands out, but held tight at their sides.
"He said he was taken by the Dark," Draco let Pythia help him to a curtained off portion of the cave. Beyond it was a cozy living space. A low Roman style couch lay in front of a small fireplace. He laid Harry down on it.
"What happened to you," Pythia tugged at his robe.
"I said," he began.
"I heard that part. You're all bloody. Tell me from the beginning."
Draco drew in a breath. He related to her all that had happened since they had seen her last. Pythia frowned when he mentioned the goddess Gwenn, but other than that, stayed silent.
"Then this happened," Draco finished. "I still didn't know how to get to you. So we went to Gwenn. She helped us."
"Good, good." Pythia stroked Harry's forehead. Her glance went beyond them to the two men standing with their backs to the far wall. "And them?"
Draco followed her gaze. "That's my father and that's Severus. They weren't going to let me come alone. I couldn't have gotten here without them."
She set her mouth in an unhappy line, but said nothing. "Draco, what happened tonight was…"
"Gah."
They all jumped at the sound of Harry's voice. The blond forgot everything else in the room, and focused on the boy in front of him.
"Harry?" He grabbed one of the limp hands. "Harry, wake up."
A green eye cracked open. "What happened?" He wrinkled his nose.
"We're with Pythia," Draco tightened his hold. "We made it through the Dark. Everything's going to be fine."
Harry's gaze moved to Pythia. She let out a soft sigh. "You boys are certainly full of surprises," she said.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be," her smile was kind. "You sleep for now. We'll get the others fed and then we'll figure out what has happened."
"But," Harry surged up. "The people!"
"What people?" She went still.
"The people on the beach!" Harry turned to Draco. "They're dead! They're all dead!"
His shouting brought the adults into the room. Snape moved past the curtain, stopping at the edge of the low bed.
"I couldn't do anything!" Harry was furious. He was terrified. He realized his hands were shaking and tried to stop it. "The Dark – it just took me, but I couldn't do a thing to stop it!"
"Harry," Pythia put a hand over his. "Stop. Start from the beginning."
Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment and let it out. He opened his eyes and told the story from start to finish. Pythia's eyes were narrowed slits as he finished.
"This…" She looked past them. She pushed to her feet and moved to the far side of the room. What Harry had thought was shadow turned out to be another curtain. She pulled it aside. The abyss gaped back at them.
Harry recoiled. A hand found his shoulder, even as Draco moved close to his side. Even Lucius was near them, his hand tight around the wand he had never put away.
"Pythia!" Homer moved forward.
"Stop." She held up a hand. Her head tilted to one side. A shudder wracked her body. "The Dark is moving," she murmured.
"What?"
She turned, but left the curtain open. "Do you see, Harry?" Her eyes studied his face. He took a gulping breath and looked past her.
The abyss was…writhing, it was the only word he could use to describe it. Flashes of light exploded in the distance, some large as fireworks, some as small as pinpricks. It was dizzying. It was confusing. He heard the others turn away, but he could not draw his gaze from the sight.
"This is very grave," Pythia's lips moved in a near-silent whisper. "The abyss has ever been a stable place – full of what might come, what will come, but never both at the same time." Her gaze bore into Harry. "Do you understand?"
"Something's changing that." He licked dry lips. "Something powerful enough to change the future."
"And the past."
"The past?" He stared at her.
She swept her gaze back to the abyss. "Do you see?" Her hand hovered in front of the oily blackness. "The rope buckles. The edges are fraying. If it unravels…"
"Then everything will end." Draco was the one to say it.
"Yes, and no. Everything that has been will end. A new past and a new future will be reshaped out of this darkness." She shivered. "I cannot see it. I cannot see how it will end."
Harry pushed himself to his feet. Draco tried to stop him, but he shook the hand away. He had to find the strength to stand. He had to. There was no time to be weak. No time to falter. He stepped to Pythia's side and peered into the abyss.
He didn't see the rope she spoke of. To him, the past and future were like a long corridor that ran on forever, with doors that opened on either side. The past was shut, the doors locked save for those who had the key. The future doors were open, some shining with pale white light, others darker. Some streamed with colors he had no name for.
"I see," he said. He could feel tremors running the length of his frame. He pushed the urge to collapse aside. He had to be strong. He had to.
"Harry?" Draco spoke from behind him.
"We have to go back," he answered. He met Pythia's glance. "We have to make sure the – whatever it is – doesn't destroy the past. Or the future. Or now."
She reached out and touched his hair. "You are a smart, brave boy." Her eyes were shadowed with something he could not name. "Be careful," she leaned close, her breath washing across his cheeks. "Things are unsettled. The Dark does not know what to do. I see a crow flying in a storm, searching for a scent she cannot name. I see you," Pythia's mouth twisted. "Be careful, Harry. Things move too fast for me to predict."
"I will," he promised. He turned to the others. "We have to go. We have to go now."
"Now, Harry?" Draco reached out and drew him close.
He curled cold fists into the blond's shirt. "Now," he said, meeting Severus' gaze over Draco's shoulder. "It's now or never. Something is happening. We have to go."
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Diagon Alley was awash with confusion. Hermione tried to stay close to the others as they charged into the fray. People were screaming and spells were being fired off from all sides. She could hear glass shattering. Somewhere in the crowd a woman was shrieking, something about the Day of Reckoning and how they all had to repent, repent or die.
Something smashed into her side. A man pointed a wand into her face, a wide terrible grin stretching his mouth. "For the glory –," he got out. Then Colin smashed a board over his head and the man went limp.
Hermione staggered free. "Why did you do that!"
"Come on!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the crowd. Two men crashed into a wall in front of them, grappling with each other. Blood ran from a dozen wounds. Sirens started to blare, their high-pitched tone ringing in Hermione's ears.
"What's happening?" She tried to shout over the din.
"Someone cursed a preacher," Colin shouted back. "A fight broke out. Then this."
"How do you know?"
"Use your eyes, wench!"
She glared at his back, but tried to see what he saw. The muggleborn crowd that had moved into Diagon Alley had left the trappings of wizarding society. Their muggle clothes stood out from in the crowd. They were doing the most of the attacking. Spells were being flung from either side. She ducked a nasty slashing hex, her wand falling into her hand with disturbing ease.
Colin pulled his own wand and began to fire spells into the crowd. She recognized the calming charm he was using. She took up a stance next to him and fired off her own. She could hit one person at a time and that was all. With the number of people in the crowd, it would take them hours to calm them all.
"Isn't there a better spell than this?" She pushed him out of the way as spells were aimed in their direction.
"Do you know any?"
She shook her head, pushing her hair out of her eyes. They had attracted some of the riot's attention. The wild eyes stared at them. She clamped a hand over his arm. "Colin," she began.
"Come on!" They took off. A roar from behind them meant the mob had decided to give chase. He dragged her down the alley, heading for Gringotts.
"Where are we going?"
"The bank!"
"But why?"
"Shut up and run!"
She did as he asked. Heat prickled down the length of her back. She stopped and pulled them right, the spell missing them by inches.
"Hermione!" She turned at the shout. Seamus and Sasha were standing behind a barricade. She dug in her feet and tried to bring Colin towards them.
"What are you doing?" The man shouted in her face.
"They're friends!"
"Not to me!" He broke from her hold. "You're either with them, or with us. Pick!"
She gazed back at the waving sixth years. She made her decision. She grabbed Colin's arm again. "Go!" She told him. "Just…go!"
She thought she heard Seamus shout again, but the blood pounding in her ears drowned most everything out. Together, she and Colin led the mob on a merry chase around the length of the goblin bank. Several curses sped by their heads. At one point a blasting curse had hit the wall in front of them, sending bricks scattering into their path. She'd taken a blow to the shoulder. The wound ached, but she pushed the thought aside. She had to keep up. She had to run. The mob was too close behind them to stop now.
When the Unspeakables began to pour from the alleys, Hermione let out a breath of relief. But it soon changed to horror as the hard-faced men and women began to fire lethal spells into the mob, taking down swaths of maddening witches and wizards at a time.
"What are they doing!" She tried to stop Colin.
"Their damned bloody jobs!" He yanked her into to Flourish and Blotts, leaving the mob behind.
qpqpqpqp
Seamus almost made it past the barricade before Sasha stopped him. "What are you doing?" Her shout rang in his ear.
"But Hermione –!"
"She ran the other way! There's no way you can stop her, not with the mob…get down!" She pushed him to the ground as a spell spun over their heads, colliding with the wall in a shower of sparks.
"What in the name of Merlin is going on?" Seamus peeked over the edge of the barricade.
Then the Unspeakables arrived. Their spells felled great swaths of people, most falling to the ground with shrieks of agony. Seamus started, his hands going tight around the top of the turned over table they were hiding behind.
"They're cursing them."
"Yes," Sasha's voice shook. "It's what they do."
He swung around to stare at her. "But they're supposed to help people, not hurt them!"
"So people want to believe." She pulled him back. "They're the Unspeakables. They're not Aurors, Seamus. They are laws unto themselves."
As the roar of the mob disappeared around the corner, Seamus peeked out again. The arriving witches and wizards were ignoring the fallen on the ground. Instead, they were going to each of the hidden pockets of people. He saw one witch point her wand and cast. A shout rose up, then cut off in mid-cry.
"Sasha, we have to go." He gripped her arm.
"What?"
"I think they're Obliviating people."
Her shaky gasp was all the answer he needed.
Together, they eased back though the pocket of people who had gathered with them behind the tables. The ice cream store doors were shattered, but open. They slid inside, hugging the long counter until they found the swing door that led into the back. Seamus pushed Sasha ahead of him, even as the Unspeakables approached the small group of people that were gathered in their former hiding spot.
"Go, Sasha."
"The door's stuck!"
He pushed in next to her, putting his shoulder to the door. It creaked, gave an inch and stopped. A wand poked out at them. "Leave us alone!" A woman's voice said.
"There's Unspeakables out here!"
"I know! Go away!"
"We can't! They'll see us in a minute!"
The door gave way under his pressure. Hands drew them inside. A host of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuff students stared back at them. He thought he heard Sasha snort. "Thanks," he said.
"Go," the woman who spoke pushed at him. "They won't Obliviate us. But they will if they see you."
"Us, why?"
"Gryffindors and Slytherins have always been the troublemakers." The woman pushed at them. "Go! There's a back door that leads out to Clothmaker's Alley. Slip into London through the far gate. Just go!"
He grabbed Sasha's hand, thanked the woman, and fled.
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When Rufus appeared on the Ministry steps, he was in good company. Fudge, along with several members of the Wizengamot, were huddled together there. The head of the Unspeakable's Department, a one Mr. Torrit, was shouting down the Minister as they argued over the use of the Unspeakables on the mob.
"…Just isn't done!" Fudge's cry rent the air.
Rufus scanned the area. He could see Unspeakables cleaning up the damage, going from group to group, casting their spells to calm the crowd and – yes, there, an Obliviate. There was another crowd growing at the far end of the Alley, pressed tight against the brick walls. They were inching closer as the Unspeakables worked.
Rufus flicked his wand, sending his voice out over the alley. "Please keep calm," he intoned. It cut off the argument behind him. "The Unspeakables have done a commendable job in calming the mob. Thank you, but your services are no longer needed. Aurors shall be arriving shortly to take your statements. Again, please keep calm."
"You can't do that!" Mr. Torrit grabbed his arm and spun him around. Rufus pulled away.
"Yes, I can. The Unspeakables have no right to Obliviate people against their will, especially when they might be prime witnesses to what happened here today."
"It's apparent to see what happened here today! The hysteria has gotten out of control!" Torrit drew himself to his full height. "It is the Unspeakable's job to calm the populace when they are out of control. The Aurors have no say in this, Scrimgeour."
"True, the Aurors may have no say in your business, but as the potential Minister of Magic of Britain, it is my job to make sure you are not abusing your powers."
Fudge began to sputter. The crowd that had been inching closer watched on with wide eyes.
"You can't just declare it like that!"
"I can and I have," Rufus kept the Sonorous charm fixed on the alley. "It is my belief that the Ministry has become too dependent on the Unspeakables and their charms. We cannot have a free and equal society if that same society lives in fear of the Ministry's laws and view of silence over sense. I will not have this day go down in the Black Book because of some childish fear that it will make you look bad Minister Fudge. I won't have it!"
A cheer went up in the crowd behind him. Torrit's eyes were narrowed and thin lines had appeared around his mouth. "You keep this up," Torrit said. "They'll riot again. And next time the Unspeakables will just let them go on."
"Better to be calmed by the Aurors than taken down by power mad wizards who can't tell an enemy from a civilian," Rufus shot back. "Now call them off!"
The Unspeakables had paused when Rufus' voice first rang out over the crowd. They did not need a signal from their leader to start heading back towards the steps. The crowd that had formed was more than enough of a threat to force them back.
"You will regret this," Torrit said.
Before Rufus could retort, the crack of a wizard apparating in drew stares. The Unspeakable that Rufus had come to blows with at the beach stood below them, his hair disheveled and his eyes wild.
"It's started!" He cried. "Potter has let loose the devil on us! He's slaughtered a whole town!"
Rufus cursed all the gods of inappropriate timing. The crowd, which had been on his side, reeled back. Whispers began to run the length of the alley.
"Please!" He tried to calm them. "This is not true! Yes, there was a massacre," he cursed the Unspeakable in his mind. "But we have yet to find the perpetrator. Do not panic…"
"I told you so," Torrit breathed near his ear. "Welcome to the world of the people's freedom."
Rufus felt his right hand tighten into a fist. He would not punch the man in full view of his first speaking crowd. "Please," he pushed out between clenched teeth. "The Aurors are working on finding suspects as we speak. Do not place the blame before we have had a chance to investigate…"
"It's all because of Potter!" A voice from the crowd shouted. "He's gone Dark! A new Dark lord! Just like the preachers were saying!"
"Shut it! He is not!"
"There is evil loose in the world again!"
"There's nothing to say that he didn't do this on purpose!"
The Unspeakable stepped forward. "I have seen it with my own eyes! A man said he saw a boy and a crow in the sky as the attack fell!"
"That's it," he stunned the man. The crowd reacted. Shouts rang out. Rufus tried to calm the people, but they would not listen. Another mob was fast in the making.
"Poor, poor Mr. Scrimgeour," Torrit said as he walked away. "Your mess, you clean it up." The Unspeakables followed after him, taking with them the man Rufus had felled.
Fudge and the members of the Wizengamot ran for the safety of the Ministry. Rufus was alone for one long moment, the sole target of a panicked mob's gaze.
"Enough!" A new voice rang out. A man pushed his way to the front of the crowd, climbing the steps to stand next to Rufus. "Enough! Do we want the Unspeakables back? Do we want Fudge hiding behind the skirts of the Aurors? No!" Several others echoed him. "Scrimgeour has given us the truth! I'm an Auror! I was there, at the massacre on Brighton beach! There is nothing there to say Potter or any of his lot have done this!"
"Then who did?" A voice shouted.
"That is why we are the Aurors," the man roared back. "We investigate. We find the people who have committed these crimes and then we bring them to trail. That is our way! Not to attack first and riot!"
"But if Potter hadn't – !"
"Potter has nothing to do with this!"
"Yes, he does!"
"No, he doesn't!"
Rufus gripped the man's shoulder. "Thank you, Auror Gest. But I think what we need now is the reserves."
"Sir?"
"We need the people to start doing something productive. We need them to focus on who started the first riot, not on –," but he was cut off as someone fired a curse into the crowd. It came from behind them, narrowly missing Rufus' head. He spun around, looking for his attacker. A shadow disappeared into a far doorway. It could have been anyone. It could have been a random attack. But from the roar of the people in the street, Rufus had one guess as to what the contents of that spell had been.
A new mob formed before his eyes, all of them intent on one person. Harry Potter.
End Chapter Fifteen