A new chapter! Thanks for your patience, and I hope to have another chapter up within the next three to four weeks. Enjoy.
XIX. The Spymaster's Last Stand
The Mediwitch grimaced under the bright lamp that shone into her face.
"Please state your full name," the witch in front of her asked.
"Anna Smith."
"Smith is uncommon in the wizarding world. You're a Muggleborn?"
"Yes."
"How long have you been working as a Mediwitch?"
"Four years."
"From your academic transcript; you graduated top three of your class at St Mungos."
"That's confidential info-" Anna exclaimed.
"Please. I'll ask the questions," the witch said sharply.
"Look, I don't even know why I'm-"
"Miss Smith, what you brought into the Ministry with you today is more important than you can possibly imagine. I am conducting this interview because it is a matter of national security. That's all you need to know right now."
She paused.
"I don't take you for someone stupid, Miss Smith. And I'm sure you're capable of piecing information together. The man you treated was the highest ranking Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. I think you can appreciate the sensitive nature of that information, and do not take me for anything less than extremely serious when I say that what you know - and have witnessed today - has endangered your life."
"Are we clear?"
"Y-yes," Anna replied nervously.
"Good. Would you like some tea?"
"Er, no thanks."
"Suit yourself."
The witch poured herself a cup of tea and sipped at it, then fixed her with a hard stare.
"This is just an interview, not an interrogation, so I want your account of everything that's happened today. I have every faith that you will be truthful, but if I think that you are lying to me, then we have other ways of getting the information from you. And I assure you that every single one of them is exceedingly unpleasant."
The woman's gaze softened then, and Anna relaxed sightly.
"I'll get you to begin from the start of your shift today."
The rain began as an elderly warlock began to speak.
"We are gathered here today as the result of terrible tragedy, to mourn and remember the lives of the Auror Commander, Gawain Robards, his wife Alice, and son Tyler."
Kingsley stood with his head bowed, next to Arthur. Behind him, people were conjuring umbrellas and the monotone sermon of the old wizard was joined by the patter of raindrops on stretched fabric.
Kingsley stole a glance at the young girl standing opposite. Gawain's daughter. She made no effort to hide the tears that flowed down her cheeks, and she wore the same broken expression that he had seen on Harry's face more than once.
He had a speech prepared, and soon, the warlock would invite him to speak. It was nothing new for the Minister for Magic.
But this feeling of helplessness, that there was seemingly no way to end the slaughter - this was something Kingsley was not used to.
Rookwood was a ghost, his men skilled in guerrilla tactics and trained to resist wards like dar-jach; agents of brutality and chaos.
Kingsley was broken from his thoughts by the warlock's voice.
"Minister? Can I impress upon you to say a few words?"
Kingsley nodded, and stepped forwards.
"Of course."
"Hell of a thing, Minister. You've lost a fine man."
Kingsley nodded, and was about to reply when he was interrupted by an Auror.
"I'm sorry Minister, you've got to come with us right now."
Two more Aurors closed in, and began pushing through the throng of people at the service.
"What happened?"
"We need to get you to safety first."
"Where's Arthur?"
"He's already gone," the Auror replied as they headed towards the back exit.
BOOM.
The sudden explosion rocked through the building, sending everyone to the floor.
"POSITION COMPROMISED!" yelled the first Auror into a two-way mirror as she scrambled to her feet. "I NEED AN OPEN PORTAL, NOW!"
The second Auror handed Kingsley a length of rope.
"Grab hold, Minister."
Kingsley did so, and almost immediately felt a tug as he was jolted out of the building.
He reappeared out of emptiness, and immediately recognised the Auror safehouse he'd been transported to.
The open plan warehouse was in uproar. MLE personnel were scrambling everywhere.
"Casualties confirmed!" one Auror shouted.
"How many?" Kingsley asked, grabbing the man's shoulder.
"Sir, three Hitwizards were killed in the initial explosion. Several guests are being treated for minor wounds, and two are in intensive care," the Auror replied crisply.
"Minister, can I get you to take a seat over here? We'll get you to the Ministry shortly," asked another Auror.
"Of course."
Kingsley moved to where the wizard gestured and sat down. He was about to ask how soon 'shortly' would be when the Auror was interrupted by a new incoming transmission.
"Yes…hold on. Repeat….confirmed. Priority red. Priority red…Royal is present. Will advise."
The Auror turned to Kingsley, his face grim.
"Minister, we just got a distress call from the hospital. Death Eaters are at St Mungo's."
Anna (four hours ago)
"Sir, I'll get you to stand up now."
The man shrugged off my hand on his shoulder and slowly placed pressure on his feet before standing with a slow exhale of breath.
"I'm alright."
"That's excellent, sir. Can you hold out your arm? I need to check your dressings."
He complied. I knew nothing of the man I was nursing to health, except that I should address him as 'sir' and not ask questions unless medically relevant. But I had overheard whispers of the Department of Mysteries, and I had caught glimpses of the Minister for Magic himself visiting on more than one occasion.
Not to mention the two men who stood at either end of the ward with their hands clasped together. Neither had uttered a single word since arriving a day after the patient.
I did not recognise his face, I did not know his name, but this man was very important.
"We're going to go downstairs to Spell Damage. Healer Booke wants to take another look at your chest wounds. Are you okay to walk?"
"I can manage."
That the patient had been assigned to Healer Booke was another tell. Hospital legend had it that the Department of Mysteries had approached Kai Booke not ten minutes after he had graduated to full Healer status with an offer to become a Ministry agent. Whenever asked about it, Booke just answered with an indulgent smile.
I escorted him downstairs, with both of his bodyguards following at a short distance, when I heard shouting in the distance, and then:
BOOM. BOOM.
The blasts shook the corridor.
The man turned to the two Unspeakables.
"Go!"
They obeyed him without hesitation, running in the direction of the explosions.
"We need to return to my ward," he said.
"Of course," I replied.
We began to backtrack.
"Do…do you know what is happening?"
He gave me an appraising look.
"Probably Rookwood," he replied, seemingly unfazed that a dark wizard was attacking the hospital.
I found his calm unnerving, and didn't reply as we exited the stairwell.
He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me backwards as a green jet whistled inches past my face.
"Get down!"
I dove to the ground as another jet of light passed overhead.
"We need cover, quickly. That ward," he instructed.
I crawled along the ground, and pushed a swinging door open, thanking Merlin it was unlocked.
Four children, their eyes wide in fright, looked up from their beds as we entered the ward.
One looked like she was about to cry, and I went to her, shushing her.
A sharp gasp made me turn to the man. Beads of sweat covered his face. He let out a second gasp, and then, with his brow furrowed, closed his hands into fists before opening them again.
"Sir, you're bleeding…the bandage-"
He glanced at me, a look of grim satisfaction covering his face.
"I couldn't care less."
He clenched his fist and it glowed a vivid blue, with sparks of magical energy detonating in the air around it.
He gave a short laugh. The sound sent a chill down my spine.
"Give me your wand."
Shakily, I handed it to him without objection.
"Once I leave, lock the doors. Then get under the desk. Hide. Get the children hidden too."
"But…what, what are you going to do?"
He fixed me with a thousand-yard stare.
"I'm going to kill them all."
X.
I noted the distinct click as the Mediwitch locked the door. The children inside the ward were as safe as they could be for now.
The wand warmed to my grip. I could sense it was not suited to curses, more to charms work, but I wasn't in a situation to be picky.
I rounded the corner of the corridor, and just like that, they were there.
The Kill Squad sent to finish the job, led by none other than Julius Creedy.
"Good morning, gentlemen."
"The infamous X. Augustus speaks highly of you," Creedy replied.
"Creedy. I daresay I'm disappointed. You didn't even bring me any flowers," I remarked wryly.
Creedy smirked.
"I fear your droll sentiments will be of little good here. Although, the wand is a nice touch. Tell me, what is it like to lose all your magic?"
"It's not as fun as getting it back," I replied, focusing my renewed magical energy. There was little point in masking it now.
Genuine fear flickered alight in Creedy's eyes.
"No! How-"
"Your Light failed."
"No matter," said Creedy, regaining his composure. "Potter is as good as dead, and you'll join your other man shortly."
"Potter is alive then?"
"Yes, although, where he is, death would be a kinder mercy," taunted Creedy.
"Enough talk," I replied, assuming a duelling stance. Crackling bolts of dark magical energy sparked from my wand.
Creedy stepped into his own duelling stance with a sadistic smirk.
"Let's do this."
"Your funeral," Creedy shrugged, raising his wand.
I unleashed a raging torrent of magical energy that floored two Death Eaters before crashing to a halt against Creedy's hastily cast shield.
Two pinpoint Killing Curses followed, sending two more crumbling to the floor.
The ferocity of my attack had pushed the Death Eaters back, but I was still vastly outnumbered.
A jet of purple light streaked across my flank, leaving a cut in my side that made me pause. Sensing an advantage, the remaining Death Eaters pressed the attack.
Creedy launched a powerful Blasting Curse against my shimmering blue shield. The resulting explosion rocked the corridor, sending shards of glass and mortar everywhere. Debris rained down upon me, and I twisted to avoid a Killing Curse, before retaliating with a burst of white lightning.
With two precise flicks, I severed a Death Eater's arm clean from his shoulder, before pushing him into the path of a jet of green light. I dodged a fist with a sidestep, and blasted two holes through the gut of another.
They weren't bad.
But I was better.
The lightning danced as I spun vivid energy in the air, vying for supremacy with the group of black-robed killers.
I gave a shout, and inky black tendrils shot from my wand, shredding through two more Death Eaters. Creedy retaliated with a jet of dark energy, which I deflected with dark magic of my own.
A witch rushed me with her fist held, claw-like, around a shimmering purple aura. I conjured a short blade and dodged her outreached hand, before twisting to drive my blade through her neck.
Somehow, I missed the spell that splintered the bones in my left leg up to the hip. I collapsed almost immediately with a yell as agonising pain overcame me.
"Crucio!"
The pain in my leg suddenly ceased to matter, as a new torment tore through every fibre of my being.
"Crucio!"
I writhed about on the floor as they unleashed the Cruciatus curse again, and again.
There were only four left, but it was done. I had nothing left.
No.
There was another way.
It meant my fate was decided.
I would not see the light of another day.
But neither would they.
I whispered the dreaded incantation under my breath.
"Crucio!"
But I felt no pain. My body was given to Death.
I stood, as dark magic fuelled me with devastating power, and let out an unearthly roar.
I did not feel anything when I punched through the chest of the nearest Death Eater, or crushed the throat of another with my bare hands. When the third hit me with two jets of green light, I did not falter.
I was inexorable.
I took his head in my hands and snapped his neck in one swift motion as Creedy looked on, horrified.
"Die!"
The blasting curse blew a hole through my chest, piercing through my lung, yet I felt nothing.
I grabbed his wrist and pulled with inhuman strength, tearing his arm from the shoulder like pulling at a root in the ground.
I flung the severed limb away, and in doing so, gave Creedy the tiniest opening.
He reached into his robes with his remaining hand, and shakily pulled out a small pocket watch as blood gushed from the hole where he had previously had an arm.
"Portus."
And then he was gone.
Already, sensation was beginning to return to me. The mindless berserker rage was clearing. The wounds I had sustained were mortal injuries.
With a grunt, I slumped to the ground.
Anna
The floor was slick with blood. Eleven bodies lay sprawled out through the corridor.
The man clutched his side and coughed blood.
"They're all…they're all dead," I said, incredulously.
"They're going to pave my way to Hell," he said, spitting blood again.
"We can save you!"
"No," he replied, and his breath was long and laboured.
"My time has come. I used black magic, some for which there is no cure. I will not survive this."
He reached with a shaky hand and pulled a strain of memory from his forehead with my wand.
"A vial…quickly. Good girl."
I guided the shimmering strand into a small vial I kept tucked into my belt.
"Your wand…it served me well."
I took my wand back and tucked it into my belt.
"Do…not speak of this to anyone else. Give my memory to the Minister for Magic. It is for his eyes only. This is the most important thing you will ever do. Go now."
"I don't want to leave you alone," I said.
"We all die alone."
I nodded, tears welling in my eyes, and walked away from the strange man.
X.
I watched the Mediwitch leave, my eyes struggling to stay open. Kingsley would witness my final battle, and see Creedy's revelation that Harry was still alive. There was still hope.
I let out a sigh. There was little pain now.
Harry.
Wherever you are, hear me.
You did not want this war.
And despite everything you've done, everything you've been trained to do, you are not me.
You are not me, an empty, hollow shell of a man, with a daughter who will never know him.
The worst of us must be balanced by the best of you.
You must finish this war before you lose yourself.
End them.
"You are ready."
"After I left him, I came straight here," Anna finished.
"Thank you, Miss Smith."
"What will you do with the memory? He made me promise to get it to the Minister."
"The Minister will be seeing it shortly. He would like me to pass on his personal thanks."
The witch stood.
"That's it?" Anna asked.
"We're done with the interview, Miss Smith. Your answers have been satisfactory. But your part in this is not over. The Aurors are going to take you to a safe location. What you have witnessed today means your life is in danger."
"What about the hospital? My job? My rent?"
"All taken care of," the witch replied, gesturing towards the door.
"Follow me."
"The Mediwitch has been taken care of, Minister," V said, entering Kingsley's office.
The Minister stood with his head bowed, both hands resting on the edges of a Pensieve standing in the corner of the room.
"Good. I don't want the press near her."
"I take it you've seen the memory?"
"Just now."
"He fought bravely," V remarked.
"That he did. You're now the acting Department Head. Serve me well and the appointment becomes permanent."
"Thank you, sir."
"Send Arthur in. He should see this."
Arthur resurfaced from the Pensieve.
"Merlin's beard," he whispered.
"It's not easy to watch," Kingsley remarked.
"No…it really is not," Arthur agreed.
"Creedy, as you saw, escaped."
"He was lucky to. X was phenomenal."
"He died in battle. Somehow, that's exactly how he would want it. A glorious death."
"Perhaps the greater tragedy is that too few will know of his service and his sacrifice for us all," Arthur mused.
"At least now we know Rookwood was lying. Harry is alive."
"Yes, but imprisoned - Creedy said death would be a kinder mercy."
"I have faith that Harry can survive. He is, if anything, resilient."
Arthur gave a small grin.
"You're not wrong."
"There is still hope, Arthur. And in the past, that has been enough."
"I'm disappointed, Creedy."
"X is dead. I blew a hole into his chest," Creedy replied, his voice betraying the pain he was in.
"Yet only you survived. Tell me, was it worth losing your fucking arm in the process?"
"His death is a blow worth twenty men. And I can create a replacement limb."
"Perhaps," Rookwood narrowed his eyes. "The attack on Robard's funeral service was not part of the plan."
"I saw the opportunity, and took it."
"For what? A few dead Hitwizards?" Rookwood replied scathingly.
"If it had been successful, we might have taken Shacklebolt."
"You'd be lucky to get within fifty feet of him. When - and only when - it becomes apparent that Shacklebolt is unable to put a stop to our little insurgency, then the Wizengamot will have no choice but to remove him from office. That's when he'll be vulnerable. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good. Because our next move is very, very dangerous, and if we don't execute it perfectly, then we are finished along with any chance of vengeance."
"What are we doing?"
"We're going to raise the dead."
Harry
I awoke.
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