Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.
Questions Concerning:
Magic Heart Problem: It is not necessarily a problem that his heart has magic surrounding it and within it, the problem is what could happen if there was a surge/sudden influx of magic. It would potentially seriously conflict with the heart's electrical system, despite magic being part of his body. For example, stomach acid is a good thing for us.....as long as it remains in our stomachs. If it goes elsewhere in the body---not so good. Magic is sort of the same way, only to a lesser degree, since it needs to be more concentrated to cause a problem (like a surge in the heart that already is saturated with magic...). Hope that answers that sufficiently this time.
A/N: Thanks so much for the ideas, names, and reviews ^^. I combined some ideas, but I'm sure when you read them you will be able to recognize your contribution if I had selected it. If you don't see yours, there was only so many ideas I could use, but thanks for giving me your thoughts! Enjoy :)
- - - Book 4 — Part 2: The Storm
Dumbledore was very busy the following weeks, most of his attention being focused on the upcoming school year that would involve the Immersion and Development Program, or IDP. Well over forty schools had expressed interest and had submitted all the necessary paperwork. The Ministry examined each, deciding which would be the most appropriate schools to participate, for only twelve schools could participate this school year.
They looked at the overall records of the schools, including professor standings, accomplishments, and attitudes. They also looked at student statistics and examined the possible applicants of the program.
As it stood now, each school would present up to fifteen students, all entering third year or above, who they felt would be excellent choices to partake in the program. From there, the Ministry and the government residing over the region of the school would look at those students and ensure they were willing and able to adequately participate, meeting all requirements. It was hoped, after all was said and done, that each school would be represented by five to thirteen students.
At the moment, fourteen schools had been selected. Twelve had been assigned to a designated six week slot in the school year, while the other two were in place in case a school was unable to meet the qualifications and had to drop out for whatever reason.
The Ministry currently had a rough estimate of how many students would be attending from each and had just recently informed Dumbledore of the IDP school participants.
Dumbledore looked down at the list on his desk.
First Slot: 3rd week of September to last week in October
Beauxbatons Academy of Magic — France — 11 students
Salem Witches' Institute — Massachusetts, USA — 9 students
Nara, School of Sagacity — Japan — 7 students
Second Slot: 2nd week of November to 3rd week of December
Horus' Ancient School of Magic — Egypt — 8
Pradera de los Celajes (the Prairie of Colored Clouds), Magic School — Peru — 6 students
Taixue, School of High Sorcery— China — 10 students
Third Slot: 3rd week of January to last week of February
Durmstrang Institute — Denmark — 8 students
Nalanda, University of Magic — India — 5 students
Komodo, School of Magical Arts — Australia — 7 students
Final Slot: 2nd week of March to 3rd week of April
Yukon, School of Shamanism — Canada — 5 students
Baobab, Institute of Center Magic — Zimbabwe — 8 students
Parnassus, School of Mystics — Greece — 13 students
Potential Schools (incase ofdrops):
La Escuela de Sueños, (School of Dreams) — California, USA — 11 students
Vilnius, Specialty Magic — Lithuania — 7 students
Dumbledore put the list back down. He was both eager and nervous about the upcoming school year. He only hoped Hogwarts' defenses were adequate to protect her inhabitants, especially after Slughorn's house went up in flames. Thankfully, he had retrieved Slughorn before the attack occurred (by two hours). It was clear Voldemort was not pleased, especially when he had ordered his Death Eaters to take out the neighboring houses. . . .
Dumbledore shook his head. Unquestionably, Voldemort knew all of his horcruxes had been taken out and had wanted to question Slughorn about it. Slughorn was, after all, the only one he knew of who would have any inclination to him having more than one horcrux. Dumbledore was certain Voldemort now believed Slughorn was an informant to the Custosae, if not a Custosae himself, which was why Slughorn was to stay on Hogwarts grounds from now on.
Slughorn didn't complain to being confined to Hogwarts grounds, in fact, he insisted it himself, though if that was because of the danger to his life or the fact Hogwarts would be participating in the IDP, Dumbledore didn't honestly know.
Besides the attempted attack on Slughorn, the only other recent news of interest/concern to Dumbledore came through Mage (unsurprisingly) a few days after Harry's birthday. Evidently, discovered through some unmentioned Custosae contacts, the Durmstrang Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, had 'committed suicide'. It had happened several months before the attack on Hogwarts, but due to the apparent way Karkaroff had met his end, it had been kept very quiet. The activities of Voldemort after said suicide also went into covering up the former Death Eater's demise.
To Dumbledore, it was all very suspicious, and to Mage, it had clearly been a quiet assassination/forced suicide.
Karkaroff was a survivor; he wouldn't have caved into that sort of despair.
However, no matter the fishy circumstances, the Ministry had given Durmstrang permission to participate in the IDP (while holding onto the right of rejecting them at a later date if they felt it necessary).
The new Headmaster cooperated with the Ministry surprisingly well, diplomacy clearly being one of his strong suits. Dumbledore had yet to meet the gentleman, but from what everyone said about him who had encountered him, he was a 'kind, strong fellow'.
His name was Baronel Vladim.
Dumbledore hoped he really was a kind and strong fellow. The world had enough homicidal wackos as it was.
O o O o O
There was just under a month left of summer break, for which most everyone was thankful. It was much too hot this year, being one of the hottest summers in a long time.
Augusta shook her head, even with the cooling charm on her clothes she felt like she was melting. She glanced over at Neville and Greg, who didn't seem to be faring any better. She was proud that they offered to come with her to Gringotts, though due to being locked in their house for the past few weeks (save for Harry and Neville's birthday parties) she was sure they would have been willing to go with her to a Lockhart convention (if the man was still out and about).
She shook her head. Harry, that poor boy, evidently now suffered some sort of heart condition. How or the extent of his condition, she didn't know, but if the subtle glances the lad was getting from Dumbledore was any indication, it was rather serious. However, to her knowledge, nothing serious had transpired since he had been 'diagnosed' by Madam Pomfrey. The only thing of note had occurred a few weeks ago. Sirius had referred to it as a 'panic attack', in which Harry had been unable to take a deep enough breath to calm himself down for several agonizing moments. Thankfully, it had very little to do with his heart and more to do with the magic woven tightly around his ribcage.
Hopefully Dumbledore or one of the Custosae chaps would come up with a solution. She knew Hermione and Neville were also searching for solutions. Hermione in the muggle world, Neville in the wizarding world. So far, they had come up with pretty much nothing, though Hermione had suggested taking Harry to a muggle 'doctor' she called a 'cardiologist', whatever that was. Dumbledore said he would consider it if they had not come up with a solution by the end of the coming term or if Harry's condition changed suddenly or began to decline.
Augusta could only pray Dumbledore would not come to regret that decision, though she understood his hesitancy in putting that much trust in a muggle healer, though she knew trust was not the main issue. Safety was. The safety of Harry and the 'doctor'. . . .
After taking care of the account business at Gringotts, Augusta led them back onto Diagon Alley.
"Come, boys, there are a few people who we shall be having lunch with at the Umbrella Café. Like ourselves, Madam Marchbanks wished to get out of the house," Augusta said, stashing her money bag away.
Neville and Greg nodded, both secretly keeping a lookout (not that they felt incoming danger, just felt it better to be safe than sorry).
Moody had tried to convince Augusta to have an escort, but she had outright refused, saying she was not going to let Voldemort force her to have some 'cockamamie protective tag team' everywhere she went and that if Mad-Eye wanted to keep his other eye as it was, he better not place a shadow team on her either. Knowing when to back off from the Longbottom matriarch, Moody promised to let her be, but only left after reminding her of her Custosae coin and giving a shout of 'Constant Vigilance'.
Neville's ears were still ringing.
When Neville and Greg had told Harry and the other Custosae about the little trip to Diagon Alley, they agreed for them to go with Augusta. She would have support whether she liked it or not.
They were moderately confident Voldemort wouldn't do anything at Diagon Alley. There were too many people and past experience had shown Voldemort there was little to no success in such places. Amici and Custosae seemed to sprout up out of the panicking masses like vicious daisies.
Entering the café with many colorful umbrellas over the outside tables, Neville, Greg, and Augusta quickly found Madam Marchbacks.
"Oh, good afternoon, my dear," the elderly lady said tenderly, taking Augusta's hand.
Madam Marchbacks was one of the few people who could call Augusta 'my dear' without getting hexed.
"Would you fancy some tea?" Marchbacks asked.
"Certainly," Augusta said, Neville and Greg standing silently behind her. "Neville, Greg, why don't you get two more seats?"
They nodded and headed toward the back of the café where some extra chairs were kept. Each moving to pick up a chair just behind an empty bench, they quickly abandoned their task when someone released a bloodcurdling scream behind them, which was immediately followed by a gigantic crash.
Whipping around, they found several tables turned on their sides, food and drink everywhere, as well as confused, hurt, and angry people. But all of that quickly became a hazy background when five cloaked figures entered the now silent café, the center one undeniably Lord Voldemort himself.
"Well, we cannot stay long, but I found myself fancying a nice cold drink and could not help myself. Also, the fact that it is known that a number of 'upstanding' citizens come here for a quick pick-me-up also presented an opportunity I could not pass up," Voldemort said as he gave a slight nod to the cloaked people on either side of him.
They slowly entered, three not having masks — Bellatrix, Misters Crabbe and Goyle.
Nobody else moved, at least noticeably, though Neville and Greg let their wands fall from their wrist holsters and into their hands.
"Hm, I want her, her, him, and . . . kill the rest," Voldemort said, pointing from Marchbacks, Augusta, and a quavering gentleman, before slashing out his wand toward the woman beside the man. "Avada Kedavra!"
"Marie!" the man shouted; but it was too late. The green light had not missed.
"Langlock!" Greg shouted, his curse barely being deflected away by Crabbe Sr.
"Reducto!" Neville shouted, Greg and himself throwing themselves behind some cover soon after.
"Crucio!" Bellatrix screeched.
Rolling forward, Neville crouched down behind a fallen table, green light cascading about the room with interwoven screams. Peering between shards of chair and table, Neville saw his grandmother battling back Goyle Sr. and Bellatrix. He didn't know where Voldemort was at that moment as he sprang forward.
"Reducto!" His curse slammed into Goyle's back, propelling him forward into a number of tables before smashing out the large front window of the café.
:Crucio!:
Pain. Unbelievable pain, shot out from his shoulder to drench his entire body in a previously unknown, unimaginable agony. He felt himself fall but couldn't feel himself land through all the pain.
He idly heard his Gran shout his name in an anguished cry. "Neville!—Bombarda!"
The searing pain stopped, though there was now an ebbing pulse of soreness and his muscles refused to move as he found himself on his back, lying among at least half a dozen dead bodies while he made out a struggle going on yards away before it suddenly ended.
"Take her to the others," Voldemort hissed. "We are done here."
"Pitiful boy, though I admit I had expected you to scream immediately like your pathetic father had," Bellatrix said after a pause, the sound of her approach echoing in his ears.
Neville opened his eyes, finding Bellatrix crouched down beside him, her face hovering over his as her wand came into view. "Such a sad little boy. Such an ickle little weakling too. I wonder if you will last as long as your parents had."
Neville's eyes sharpened, rage he had never felt before rippling out and across his skin.
With a shout, he slammed his hand forward, his wand sending out an unrelenting force as he clamored back and onto his feet. However, soon after rising, he tripped over a smashed chair behind him, which was just as well, as Bellatrix sent out another crucio and would have hit him if he hadn't fallen.
"Inferious!" one of the masked Death Eaters bellowed. A purple ray of light, speckled with green, flew through the air.
"OOOOUF!" Neville gasped as a body flung itself into his side, forcing him out of the way.
The Inferi Curse went past harmlessly.
"Diffindo!"
"Protego!" Greg shouted, deflecting a third curse aimed at Neville as he rolled off of him and sent a curse toward Bellatrix.
"Bella, enough! You can play with them another time," Voldemort said, stepping forward and crunching glass and wood under his tread. "We have what we came for. Do not upset me."
Neville looked up, most of his frame somehow having found protection behind a table, Greg's protego still up to his left.
The sound of apparating pops echoed in from the street as he watched Bellatrix give a brief nod and disappear with a crack, before Voldemort vanished with a whoosh of ashy darkness.
"Oh, Merlin," Sirius breathed, being the first man to enter the now destroyed café. He was quickly followed by Mad-Eye, Dumbledore, and Kingsley.
Neville sat up, struggling to stand as Greg came to his side. The whole event had occurred in less than two minutes, but the span of time it had taken was irrelevant. The damage had been done.
Most of the tables had been knocked over or outright obliterated, and the chairs were not any better. There were only a few survivors of the attack, everyone else, which was well over a dozen people, were dead . . . or missing.
"Where's Gran?" Neville asked, looking to Greg with blank eyes.
Greg met his eyes and gave a barely visible shake of his head. "They took her."
O o O o O
"Neville?"
Neville looked up to find Harry standing in the doorway to his temporary room at Grimmauld Place. It hadn't taken long for Dumbledore and the others to decide it would be best for Neville and Greg to move in with Harry. Draco and Vince remained with Snape.
"Hi."
Harry slowly entered, deciding it best to remain silent as he closed the door behind him and cast a few safe privacy spells.
"Dumbledore thinks Voldemort believes Gran is a Custosae," Neville whispered after a moment. "He will attempt to get information from her, just as he will try with Marchbacks and that man, Mr. Pich."
Harry looked down, wishing he knew what to say and wondering if Mage's interaction with Mr. Pich at the Wizengamot meeting had made Voldemort feel it necessary to kidnap him, and to kill his wife.
"There is something that can be done, though. There's a charm, sort of like the Beacon Charm, that's on Gran, but only a family member can activate it. It provides information to the caster about where a loved one is, like landmarks and the current weather of the location. Some people would classify it as a type of clairvoyance," Neville continued.
"Have you cast it?"
"Not yet. It will also show me glimpses of what Gran is seeing at that moment. I don't want to cast it too soon." He paused. "After all, they still might be moving her."
"We'll rescue her, Nev. I'll begin setting things up, and the twins will begin arranging possible covers . . . if you wish—"
"I do. Thorn will join the rescue team," Neville stated.
Harry nodded, already having guessed Neville would want to go. The twins would be able to cover for him easily. One acting as both of them while the other took Neville's place. Of course, there would have to be careful handling of it all, but with Ron, Draco, and himself, he was certain they would be able to pull it off, especially with everyone's attentions on the rescue mission.
"The others have already been told what has happened. The Weasleys will all be here in the morning, as well as Draco and Vince. Hermione is staying with her parents for the time being. I think her parents are scared and don't want her in the wizarding world more than necessary."
Neville blinked at that. "She'll still be coming to Hogwarts, right?"
"I haven't felt it wise to ask," Harry admitted. "But I think if push came to shove, she would convince them, or ask Dumbledore to."
"You're probably right."
"I'll speak with Dumbledore tonight. We'll see if we can carry out the rescue within the next two days," Harry said, refocusing.
"As soon as we move, the better," Neville agreed.
Harry gave a short nod, now only remaining to give Neville silent support.
O o O o O
Over the next several hours, the wizarding world suffered several more pocketed attacks, all of which resulted in the kidnappings of several important officials—governmental and de facto community leaders.
There was mass hysteria and fear, which only compounded the confusion. Among those missing, Augusta Longbottom, Madam Marchbacks, Tiberius and Bob Ogden, and Elphias Doge had the most attention. However, it was also known that over half of all taken were members of the Wizengamot, and some were known friends of Albus Dumbledore.
There were a few obscure people taken, though, like Mr. Pich, making most wonder what reason Voldemort had to take them, but witches and wizards were not the only targets, goblins were too. The vault manager of the Lestranges, Rektik, had been taken from Knockturn Alley an hour after the attack on the café.
The current count of kidnapped individuals was fourteen when Harry, as Mage, contacted Dumbledore near midnight. Understandably, they went straight into the problem and came up with many ideas. Neville, before going to bed, had spoken privately with Dumbledore, telling him about the unique charm Augusta had set in place (no doubt after the attack on her son and daughter in-law).
With the charm in place, Mage and Dumbledore agreed it would be best to move immediately after viewing what Neville had been shown in a pensieve, which would occur the next day, if at all possible.
"Thorn will arrive not long before you and your team move out," Mage said.
Dumbledore tilted his head slightly. "Will you not be joining us in the rescue?"
"I am sorry, Albus. I must leave this mission in your and Thorn's capable hands. I have some other things to take care of at the moment," Mage admitted apologetically, hoping Dumbledore would not ask questions.
"Do you need assistance? Does it concern Riddle?"
"Not at this time, but yes, it concerns Riddle."
That was true. Harry couldn't go because of whatever had happened to his heart after Riddle attacked Hogwarts, and while the rescue was being executed, he would be working on the protective runes to help in the ongoing fight against Voldemort. So he wasn't lying, just being very particular in what he shared as the truth.
"Well, I wish you luck in your task," Dumbledore said, before moving on. "Once Neville carries out the charm and places his memory of the vision in my pensieve, I will attempt to determine where Lioness (Augusta) is, and hopefully the others who have been taken. If I do, I will let you know to inform Thorn to come. Will anyone be accompanying him?"
"Viper might be, but I will wait before I commit him. Perhaps the location we will find will call for a smaller group."
As it was, the rescue team already consisted of: Dumbledore, Thorn, Remus, Mad-Eye, Sirius, and Snape.
Dumbledore nodded. "Tomorrow then."
"Tomorrow," Mage agreed.
"We are a formation of defenders."
O o O oO
"Are you ready?" Dumbledore asked, entering the living room where Neville and the others were.
Neville nodded, holding up his wand.
"Whenever you wish then, Neville," Dumbledore said gently, placing the pensieve down on the table in front of him before taking a seat.
Neville closed his eyes and gently touched the center of his forehead with the tip of his wand, right between his eyes, and whispered a latin phrase none of them were able to make out. There was a dim pulse of golden light, before Neville's wand fell and his hands shot out to grip the armrests of his chair. His eyes then snapped open, but they were not seeing the room within Grimmauld Place, but whirling foreign landscapes and unfamiliar streets as the charm zeroed in Augusta. His eyes flashed gold and remained hued with it as the spell took full affect. . . .
A graveyard. A massive grave monument, with the form of the Death Angel standing guard.
A stone path in a decrepit garden, leading up to the back of a grand old house. Scattered clouds passed over from above as wind brushed past the weak and aging window shutters.
A skip, a sudden jolt of travel through stone, wood, and metal, he saw cloaked figures assembled in a dining area. There were easily thirty.
"I want Bones!" Voldemort snapped. "She must know something, as her department has worked closely with them for quite some time. Perhaps she is even a Custosae."
"We will set out in an hour, my Lord," one of them said. Goyle?
"But she is within the protection of the Ministry," one pointed out meekly.
Voldemort's eyes snapped to them.
"Do I hear doubt? Do I hear hesitancy in doing what I ask? If all of you depart and go as one, the aurors will not stand a chance."
"I apologize, my Lord, but the Aurors do not concern me, but rather. . . ."
"The Custosae do not compare to our numbers, and the goblins can be transformed into Inferi more quickly than I could ever have dreamed possible. You will all go and retrieve Bones, intact if you can, and return here before the sunsets, or I will be most displeased," Voldemort promised. "Until then, I will be interrogating those we have. Oh yes, this day is certainly looking quite pleasant. . . ."
Another jolt, taking him into a cell. A prison cell. A dungeon, constructed in the basement of the old house.
He saw Madam Marchbanks, leaning up against the wall with blood seeping from her nose.
He saw an old man, who he couldn't identify, lying on his stomach, facing away toward the stone wall.
He saw a small form, resting against the bars of the cell. His long fingered hand looked beyond repair, and his breathing was rough. A goblin.
He saw the filthy floor, splattered blood here and there, as his view tilted slightly, as if he was sick. He quickly surmised he was seeing through his Gran's eyes.
The sound of footsteps came to his ears and his sights focused to the door of the cell. Death Eaters. Barty Crouch Jr. among them.
"Anyone willing to talk now?" one of them snickered. "Come now, we are asking simple questions after all. Just tell us what you know about Mage and his pesky little friends and we will let you go."
"We—we don't know anything," a voice said from a neighboring cell.
"The Dark Lord highly doubts that. A man like Mage must have friends. Surely one of you knows one?" Barty asked, his tongue quickly shooting in and out from the corner of his mouth.
"Dumbledore," a voice gasped out. It echoed so weakly Neville couldn't determine where it had come from, or even if the speaker was male or female.
"Besides that old coot," Bellatrix hissed nastily.
There was silence.
"Well? Someone speak up or one of you will be punished," Bellatrix said, her wand in her hand. "No? Very well. Crucio!"
Neville jolted, the now familiar pain sweeping over him for a split second before he felt someone grip him, keeping him in the chair.
"Neville?" Dumbledore asked.
Neville swallowed, his hand idly reaching out for his wand. Dumbledore quickly gave it to him, having gotten it from the floor.
"Here," Neville managed, bringing his wand up to his temple, he retrieved the memory. He then placed it in the pensieve.
"We will do all that we can to save her, Neville. You have my word," Dumbledore said, lifting the pensieve up before quickly leaving the main room.
Harry, Neville, and all the others left to Harry's room soon after. There was more to be done than a rescue now.
O o O o O
Dumbledore entered the small room on the second floor of Grimmauld Place, joining Remus, Sirius, Mad-Eye, and Snape.
"He did it then?" Mad-Eye asked.
"Yes, so let us view it now. The sooner we move, the better," Dumbledore said.
They gathered around and entered. A moment later, they all came back out.
"I should have known. Little Hangleton. He's holding them in the Riddle House," Dumbledore muttered, before looking to those around him. "Prepare to leave in an hour. I will inform Mage of what is going on. Hopefully he will be able to set up an ambush for those after Madam Bones."
O o O o O
Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Snape, Remus, Sirius, Viper and Thorn assembled in the living room.
Teddy had once again volunteered to be Thorn's key to near instant travel and was securely in his pocket. Viper was beside Thorn, robed in dark blue robes, edged with silver silk. Thorn was in mostly black.
Harry and the others had been asked to remain in their rooms until they returned. They obeyed (save Neville and Draco, of course), and gathered together in a few rooms (so they could cover for Draco and Neville easily). Harry was also currently busy speaking with Griphook over his mirror in placing subtle support around Bones, while Draco spoke with Mighty Squib (Susan), warning of the incoming threat.
Arthur and Molly were staying at Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore having requested them to.
"Are you certain, Albus?" Molly asked, concerned. "What if this is a trap of some kind? You all are just seven men."
"This is not a trap. Voldemort believes his location is unknown to us. He also does not know of the charm cast by Neville, nor that such a charm has been placed on Augusta and Neville. As for us being small in numbers, so are they, as they will be after Bones when we head in. Remember, the fewer there are of us, the less likely we are to be detected. However, if we are, we will respond accordingly."
"Let us leave, then," Mad-Eye said, standing behind Thorn. "We're ready."
"Very well then," Dumbledore said as he silently disillusioned himself.
The others quickly followed as he took out an old rusty key.
"This portkey will take us near the outskirts of Little Hangleton. We will travel to the Riddle House on foot," he said, holding it out for them all to touch.
They disappeared, leaving Arthur and Molly alone in the room.
O o O o O
Next part: According to Plan
Langlock: Glues the victim's tongue to the roof of his/her mouth. Created by Severus Snape.
