A/N: A new chapter - enjoy!
XV: Nostradamus
May 3, 1998 (One Year Ago)
Ginny
I watched as Harry arrived in the Entrance Hall, accompanied by two figures in red robes. His face and robes were covered in the dust and debris of battle, but a satisfied look crossed his face. I met him misstep and threw my arms around him.
"Ginny, I'm filthy."
"I don't care," I replied, my voice muffled against his shoulder.
He gave me another grin.
"When's food?" he asked, "I'm starving."
"It should be soon. Come, let's get seats."
I slipped my hand into his and we made our way into the Great Hall.
The vast Hall was a shadow of its former self. Piles of rubble dotted the room, where great chunks of stone had been blasted - and in some cases, blown clean through - off the walls. A makeshift triage was set up down the Slytherin end. The Hospital Wing was still full to overflowing, as St Mungos had only been retaken this morning.
The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables had been left in place, and students, teachers, and workers alike had begun to crowd the benches. As we walked down the row, Harry stopped often to greet people.
We squeezed in next to Neville, Seamus, and Lee Jordan.
"How was the Ministry, Harry?" Seamus asked.
"When I left, there were a couple of pockets of resistance on Level Seven, but it's pretty much ours. Once we took the MLE, it was basically over. We've got St Mungos too. I overheard them saying that some of the Hogwarts wounded will transfer there tonight."
The food arrived soon after, and we attacked it ravenously. Most of the resistance hadn't eaten a good meal in months.
Later, we took our leave and made Harry and I made our way back to Harry's dorm room.
I sat on his bed as he rummaged through his trunk.
"Was it really like what you told Seamus and the others?"
"Yeah. They surrounded me with Aurors the whole time. I fired a few Stunners and that was it," he said, sounding disappointed.
"Well, I'm glad they kept you safe. I worried about you. I wanted to strangle Kingsley when he asked you to accompany the Order."
"I was okay. They spent half the time taking pictures of me," he said, removing his shirt.
"I thought you were dead, Harry. I never want to experience that again," I said, my eyes on the angry red scar on his chest. "Is that where-"
"Yeah."
"Does it hurt?" I asked, brushing a finger against the vivd red gash.
"Not so much, anymore," he replied softly, his eyes staring at me with an intensity that made me blush.
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and pressed a deep kiss to my lips.
"I've missed this," he said after several moments.
"Me too," I murmured in reply, before making a face.
"You need a shower, Chosen One."
He laughed, and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"I'll get cleaned up."
He reached a hand out and wandlessly summoned a towel., before making his way towards the bathroom.
"Wait."
"Yeah?"
He turned as I unbuttoned my shirt, feeling the fabric slide off my shoulders as it feel to the floor.
"What're you doing?" he asked, staring at me with a mix of surprise and boyish delight.
"Joining you."
Much later, we laid intertwined under the sheets of his four-poster bed.
"I could get used to this," I murmured.
"Me too," he replied.
"Have you thought about what you'll do now?"
"I don't know, Ginny. I never really thought about life after Tom Riddle," he replied, then fixed me with his intense stare. "But I do know I want to spend it with you."
May 4, 1998
"Minister, the Head of the Department of Mysteries would appreciate a word," announced one of Kingsley's many undersecretaries.
"They talk?" Kingsley asked, recalling the meeting of the Department Heads he had attended yesterday. The man in charge of Mysteries had not uttered a single syllable.
"I understand that it's a matter of some importance."
"Show him in."
The man entered and took a seat in front of Kingsley's desk. He sported a close-cropped haircut, and his face was framed by a pair of black eyeglasses and a strong jawline. A thin scar ran down his neck and disappeared under his collar. His grey eyes carried a certainty in them, that he knew what he wanted and how to do it.
He carried no notes or parchment either, which surprised the new Minister. Nearly everyone meeting with him had brought something to support their case.
"Minister Shacklebolt," he opened.
It was part greeting, part statement. Kingsley suddenly felt like he was being inspected under a microscope. No platitudes or congratulations either.
This man was definitely from the Department of Mysteries.
"Before you begin, let me ask you this: why should I trust you, or your Department? You corroborated with Thicknesse during the war," asked Kingsley critically.
"Regimes come and go, Minister. The Department of Mysteries is eternal. We do what it takes to ensure our survival," the Unspeakable replied.
"That doesn't inspire much in the way of confidence."
"Then perhaps this will. As you may be aware, Minister, one of the operational responsibilities of my Department is intelligence-gathering. Relevant information is then filtered through to International Trade, the Aurors, the MLE, etcetera."
"Through the Intelligence Division, we know everything worth knowing. It is an immensely powerful asset, one that Albus Dumbledore himself utilised on multiple occasions," he said, pausing.
"One of Scrimgeour's last acts was to order Department Intelligence out of London. We operated from Dublin, and then Morocco when Ireland became unsafe. In the last ten months, we were able to infiltrate and gather information on the Death Eaters."
"Minister, let me tell you this in short: this war is not over."
"You're telling me this after the Order of the Phoenix liberated the Ministry and apprehended scores of Voldemort's agents, not to mention those we took prisoner in Scotland…" said Kingsley. "It feels like it's over to me."
"One-third," answered the Unspeakable.
"What?"
"We estimate that you've taken one-third of Voldemort's forces, captured or killed."
"That can't be right," Kingsley said.
"Minister, if I had a shadow of doubt, I would not be here telling you this," he replied forcibly.
"Voldemort's forces were split into twelve rough divisions, based around major Muggle and Wizarding centres in Britain. Here in London, Manchester, Falmouth, and Hogsmeade, for example. They are comprised of marked and unmarked Death Eaters - those who have taken the black - Snatchers, henchmen, and all manner of dark creatures."
"After Voldemort learns that Harry has retaken Hogwarts, he orders his lieutenants, the leaders of the divisions, to assemble a force to attack the castle. But he doesn't take everyone, because why bother? It's just a castle, defended by a handful of teachers and children, and Potter is just a boy. So he takes with him his most faithful, his inner circle. He believes that his victory is at hand, and he wants them to witness his triumph over Harry Potter. Five divisions out of twelve join him at the Battle of Hogwarts."
"After realising that the boy is destroying his Horcruxes, Voldemort takes the Elder Wand. With it, he believes that he is too powerful for Harry to kill. But Voldemort underestimates Potter's endgame."
"How do you know about the Hallows?" asked Kingsley, surprised.
"As I said, Minister, we know everything."
"Potter is, of course, remarkably successful in deceiving Voldemort, and kills Voldemort with his own curse. I will admit, we were unsure as to Severus Snape's part in all of this, but we had a hunch."
"As I was saying: five divisions join Voldemort, and they are routed. As news of Voldemort's demise spreads throughout Wizarding Britain, you yourself lead what remains of the Order to liberate the Ministry, and regain control of the WWN and the Prophet. Three more divisions fall."
"You're still missing four divisions, Minister. Not to mention his forces across Europe."
"These four divisions are led by some of Voldemort's best. The Dolohov family, Rookwood, Creedy - who made his way into Voldemort's circle after the Malfoy's fall from grace - there are more. And they are devout. Their followers are fanatical."
"Mr Potter's life is at stake here. Defeating Voldemort does not make him immortal. He has cheated Death so many times, but he cannot cheat Him again. In the last two days, we have intercepted or received sixteen threats against Potter's life, and the lives of his closest friends: Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Ginevra Weasley."
"What would you have me do?" asked Kingsley.
"Hunt them down."
"Like a wetworks operation?"
"Precisely. This wouldn't be a case of capturing them, Minister, it would be an extermination."
"A small, clandestine group based out of my Department could do it. For the first time in years, we are in a position of strength. They are on the run. But if they can regather, if they can regroup, then they will constitute a threat to be reckoned with."
"This sounds like a job for Aurors."
"Gawain Robards is a good man, but he cannot lead the Aurors to war. You know this as well as I do," he replied.
"You want Mysteries to front this then," Kingsley remarked.
"We are the best qualified, Minister. The Aurors are clumsy, whereas we are surgical.
"You're aware you are speaking to an Auror?"
"Yet your loyalty lies above the Auror Office, and it has ever since Dumbledore recruited you for the Order of the Phoenix. You know as well as I do the shortcomings of the Aurors. This needs to begin now, and we're the only ones who can."
"Say I entertain your idea. How long would it take to set everything up?"
"Three days."
"That's all?"
"As I said, we are well prepared."
Kingsley ran a hand over his scalp, deep in thought.
"There is another matter, Minister."
"Oh?" Kingsley looked up.
"The mission requires Harry Potter."
"What?!" he replied incredulously.
"He is powerful, Minister, and an asset to us. If Potter disappears off the face of the earth, and joins this mission in secret, it will keep him safe. He'll be out of the public spotlight."
"Not if he's actively hunting down Death Eaters!" Kingsley protested.
"But that's the beauty of it, Minister. Once they learn that Harry is hunting them - the one who defeated their supposedly unbeatable Dark Lord - it will demoralise them further. To them, Harry Potter means death."
"The boy could return to Hogwarts to complete his NEWTS, and then join the Aurors - that is, if his ambitions have not changed since he was sixteen. Otherwise he'll be paraded out by the Public Relations Office to talk about how well the Ministry is doing - shaking hands and smiling for photos. Both of those are a waste of his time and talent."
"If Harry wants to help rebuild our country, he should do it by eliminating those that threaten it most. You must convince him to join this operation."
"I haven't even agreed to let this happen yet."
"But you will."
Kingsley looked at the man sitting across from him with a resigned sigh.
"If the public found out-"
The man gave a snort of derision.
"They won't."
"What if they do?" he asked.
"It'll be bloody difficult to get reelected, won't it?" he quipped. "Minister, I can only urge you to do what is best for our nation. And I think you know what that is."
"I'll think about Harry. I won't promise anything."
The man nodded and stood.
"Thank you, Minister," he said, as he made to leave.
"Call me Kingsley."
The Unspeakable turned, with one hand on the door.
"Call me X."
May 6, 1998
"Good afternoon, Minister," X greeted, entering Kingsley's office with another man in tow.
"I'd like you to meet Y."
Y was closer to Kingsley's height, and had a mane of jet black hair. A series of runes and magical symbols were tattooed down his arms, bare to the shoulders.
Kingsley shook the man's proffered hand firmly.
"Do all of you have letters?"
"Just the dangerous ones," Y replied with a grin.
"That's reassuring," Kingsley replied dryly.
"Has X explained what I want you to do?"
"Yes."
"Will you train Harry Potter, should he join?"
"The Chosen One? Of course."
"Are you ready to go to war?"
"I never left."
"Will you die in his defence?"
"If he proves himself worthy."
"Welcome to Wrath of Merlin."
May 7, 1998
Harry Potter looked at Kingsley with weary eyes, filled with the enormity of what he'd just been told.
"It's not over," he murmured. "It's not over."
"I wish it was," Kingsley said softly.
"I died, Kingsley. And then…I just got my life back."
"You have sacrificed so much already, Harry. I fear I ask of you too much."
"No, I understand. I get why you want me for this."
"You'll do it then?"
He paused, then answered with assurance:
"Yes. I'll do it."
Ginny
I pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek when he returned from his visit with the new Minister.
"What did Kingsley want?"
"Nothing much. He just had a few updates. They want to keep me in the loop with the rebuilding efforts."
I knew something was troubling him, but I didn't bother to press him for more information. He would tell me in his own time.
May 9, 1998
A witch wearing navy blue robes with a silver cuff made her way into Kingsley's office.
"Good morning, Minister. I'm from the Department of Mysteries."
"What's your name?"
"That's classified."
"What can I call you?"
"V."
V led Kingsley as they traversed the maze-like warren of corridors and tunnels that made up the Department of Mysteries.
They had been walking for about 10 minutes, and Kingsley was sure he was thoroughly lost, before they reached a polished black door.
The witch placed her hand on the door.
It glowed blue and opened.
Another door lay a few feet in front of her.
"Whatever you do, do not touch that door," she warned Kingsley.
"What does it lead to?"
"Nothing. Absolute nothingness."
"So how-"
"Look up," she instructed.
The Minister did so, and suddenly felt himself pulled off the floor by an invisible force.
"It's a security measure," the witch explained as they rose through the ceiling.
They reemerged into a cavernous hall. The large room had a high ceiling that cast magical illumination on the space. In the middle of the room was a raised platform with several marble plinths. Glass shields surrounded the platform, and two shimmering wards surrounded the glass.
About twenty wizards and witches were working in the space, many wearing white lab robes.
"Welcome to the home of the Nostradamus Project."
"You named it after the Prophecy for the End of Days?"
"We think it's important to have a healthy perspective on what we're doing," the witch replied.
A short, stocky man with a long grey beard and steely eyes approached them.
"Minister, this is M. He's the lead warlock."
"Minister, it's good to meet you. Congratulations on your recent appointment."
Kingsley shook his hand, trying to recall the faintly familiar face in front of him.
"I've met you before, haven't I?"
The warlock sighed.
"I daresay you have, Minister. I am - well, I used to be - well-known. Everyone here is spelled by a charm that eradicates us from living memory."
"That seems extreme."
"I don't have to impress upon you the utmost secrecy of what you've asked us to do, Minister."
"After our work is done, we will reverse the spell," added V, "But every single witch and wizard in this room has taken the Unbreakable Vow. We cannot speak of this to outsiders through will or coercion."
"Good. Do you really think that this -" he gestured at the room, "- can be done?"
"I'm assembling some of the finest magical minds in the world. Many of them are still making their way here. Voldemort's fall certainly helped convince them. If we cannot do it, no one can," M said.
"When do you expect to get started?"
"Within the week. The Department is well-suited to experimentation. Setting things up is going smoothly."
"How long do you expect it to take?"
"For a working prototype? Six months, perhaps a year?"
"Do I want to know how much it's going to cost?"
"You really don't."
"That's reassuring."
"Money is of no concern, Minister. The Department holds several options through shell companies on the Gringotts First Exchange," V said with a smirk.
"Does this Department have any financial oversight?"
"None whatsoever," replied V, her smirk growing larger.
Harry, May 10, 1998
I stood at the podium. Everyone was watching me as I paused, and took a breath.
My eyes met Ginny's in the crowd of faces, and I drank in the sight of her before tearing my eyes away.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
Quick steps took me out of the Great Hall. I avoided eye contact and ignored the puzzled whispers as I made my way out. In the Entrance Hall, a man in blue robes wordlessly handed me my Invisibility Cloak and an old book. I wrapped it around myself, and watched the man disappear into the shadows as I strode out onto the grounds.
The book grew warm, and I felt the sudden lurch of a Portkey, as I left Hogwarts and all that I loved behind me.
Kingsley led me down a hidden passageway to a lift. We entered and he pressed a red button three times.
The lift jolted, and shot downwards, sideways, upwards, sideways, and downwards again, before slowing to a halt and opening its doors.
"This is Operation Headquarters. We have living space for you here."
He led me into an open-plan space. A conference table was placed at one end of the room, and a kitchenette occupied the other. Several doors were dotted around the room.
"Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter," Kingsley said to the two men seated at the table.
The first man had short hair and grey eyes framed by black glasses. The second had should length black hair that reminded me of Sirius, and wore a leather vest that left his arms, tattooed from shoulder to hand with ancient runes, bare.
"Welcome to the Department of Ungentlemanly Warfare," said the second man with a wry grin.
"I'm X. The comedian here is Y," introduced the first man, extending a hand in greeting.
"Does everyone have a letter?" I asked, shaking X's hand.
"Everybody asks that," Y remarked dryly.
"I'll leave you with X and Y. They'll brief you in full, and then you'll get started. Your luggage has already been moved into one of the rooms," said Kingsley.
I nodded and turned to my new companions.
"When do we begin?" I asked.
"We don't start until you're ready," Y looked at me intently.
"I'm ready now."
He gave a derisive snort.
"You're not even close. I understand that you cast a decent Patronus, and your Disarming Spell is a force to be reckoned with, but that's not going to keep you alive, Harry."
"Tell that to Tom Riddle."
X and Y shared a look.
"He's your student," X said, with a hint of amusement.
Y gave an exasperated sigh.
"Fine. You and I are going to duel. I want to see what you can do."
Y lead me through to a large, open room with crescent-shaped markings on the floor. He walked his way to the far end, turned to face me, and took a duelling stance.
"You start."
I went for my wand. As my fingers curled around the holly, I was blasted across the room.
"I wasn't ready!" I exclaimed.
"Do you think Death Eaters are going to wait for you?" Y asked.
I had to admit that he had a point.
I shot a Stunner at him as I got to my feet, then watched in dismay as it dissipated off a shield he'd thrown up to counter it.
"Expelliarmus!" I yelled.
Y gave a violent flick of his wand and brushed the spell aside, before following up with a jet of white light that I only just managed to avoid.
I fired another Stunner, having about as much success with it as I had the first.
"Enough!"
Y summoned a torrent of blue lightning that tore its way across the room. It blew through my Shield Charm and floored me. I made to move my wand arm but found I couldn't.
In a mere matter of moments, Y had outclassed me utterly, and he'd made it look easy.
"Duel's over," Y said. He gave another flick of his wand, and then holstered it.
"We could've done with you in the Battle at Hogwarts," I remarked with a wince as I sat up.
"I was preoccupied," Y said guardedly.
He offered his hand and pulled me to my feet.
"You wanted to be an Auror when you were back at school?"
"Yeah."
"Then that's what we'll start with. First two weeks, I'll teach you everything an Auror trainee would learn in their first year, without the bullshit."
"You'll learn to Disillusion yourself wandlessly, levitate yourself for a sustained duration, and cast every curse, charm and ward in the book. After that, I'll teach you the ones that you don't find in the books."
"We'll fine-tune your duelling, then I'll get you fighting multiple opponents at once."
"Once you can hold your own against me in a duel, that's when you'll be ready."
June 29, 1998
Y followed a witch who had introduced herself as 'V' - from one of the research divisions - to a red door. As expected, a sudden jolt came and they rose through the ceiling into a large open space.
"These are the Nostradamus Lights."
"What's so special about these?" he asked, gesturing towards the orbs on their marble plinths.
"Each Light is designed to be able to eradicate magical energy totally."
"You're fucking with me."
V shot him a smirk.
"Not at all. You're a soldier. I thought you'd appreciate the ultimate weapon."
"Well, sure, but it's not very sporting, is it?"
Kingsley made his way over from where he was in discussions with M.
"What do you think?" he asked, striding towards the pair of Unspeakables.
"That's one hell of a toy you've got, Kingsley," remarked Y, his eyes still on the glowing orbs in the centre of the room.
Harry, July 18
"This rune means 'death'. Each Unspeakable receives it after their first operational kill."
I looked at the tattoo burned onto my shoulder and recalled a conversation I had shared with Ginny about Romilda Vane and a Hungarian Horntail.
It seemed like an age ago.
Today, I had killed a man. In the midst of a firefight, he had drawn a clear shot at Y, and I had reacted without thinking to protect my teacher and partner.
The Killing Curse had burst from my wand in a lightning fast jet of green light, and hit the Death Eater squarely in the chest. He had crumpled almost instantly.
"Good work," Y had said in thanks.
'Work' meant murder. The realisation had jarred me.
It had all been too easy.
August 1
Arthur Weasley sat in Kingsley's office, only slightly larger and more ostentatious than his own. He pulled at the white cuff of his robes. He'd only been sworn in two hours ago and already he felt exhausted.
If only Lucius Malfoy could see him now.
He was broken from his reverie by Kingsley's voice.
"This is V, she's from the Department of Mysteries," Kingsley introduced.
"Nice to meet you, Deputy Minister," the woman greeted him, shaking his hand.
"Likewise."
"V liaises with our Office. She's taking us to the Department of Mysteries. They guard several secrets that you are now privy to," Kingsley said.
Arthur followed the Kingsley and V as they made their way down to Level Nine. After about ten minutes of walking through a series of maze-like hallways, they reached the end of a corridor.
"Look up," V instructed.
Arthur gave a start as he rose through the seemingly solid ceiling.
"This is the Nostradamus Project," declared V.
"Arthur, I am truly sorry to burden you with this. But you must know," said Kingsley.
Arthur looked around the room. Several witches and wizards were working in the large space, focusing much of their attention on seven orbs. Each gave a red glow.
"What's the red light?"
"The Nostradamus Light is designed to be the magic against magic itself. It rips the magical energy from a wizards body, rendering them effectively a Squib," V explained.
Arthur shot Kingsley a horrified look.
"I tasked the Department of Mysteries with creating seven Lights. It was initially Scrimgeour's idea. Dumbledore believed that Harry would stop Voldemort, but Scrimgeour didn't want to place his faith in a boy - especially one who wasn't particularly cooperative," Kingsley explained.
"The Ministry fell before the project could get underway. Scrimgeour's dream of a weapon to stop dark magic was never realised."
"So what is it doing here?"
"Arthur, imagine if we'd had one of these at Hogwarts. I hate to be callous but your son would still be alive."
Arthur gave him a broken look.
"I'm sorry, Arthur, I truly am. And I know this goes against everything you believe in. But we still live in dangerous times."
Arthur was silent for a moment. Then he sighed.
"You're right. I hate the very idea of it, Kingsley, but we can't wilfully ignore the danger to our world. If this is the price we pay, then so we must."
"It's not all we have. Follow me."
A few minutes through the corridors of the Department of Mysteries later, they came to a halt at a nondescript door with no label, a rarity in the Ministry. Kingsley placed his hand on the door and after a moment, it swung open. Arthur followed him through the door, and came face to face with Harry Potter.
"Harry!"
"Hi Mr Weasley," he replied. There was a new strength about him, a shining resolve in his brilliant green eyes.
"Arthur, as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, you are aware of the considerable threat presented by Voldemort's remaining forces," said Kingsley. "This is the answer to that threat. This is Operation Wrath of Merlin."
A/N: I decided to offer some more detail on the origins of the Operation and ended up writing enough for an entire chapter. The 'weapon' has also - finally - been revealed as the Nostradamus Light. I wrote this chapter and the next two in tandem, so you should see those uploaded in the coming couple of weeks.
As always, please review. I welcome thoughtful comments, critiques, and questions.