Chapter 8: Treasure Hunt!
For disclaimer and author notes please see chapter 1.
1986-01-13 09:30 UTC, location unknown
Hobby was, of course, completely unaware of the hell that had just been raised by his idea of a joke. He had, as was his wont, popped into the Flamel's house - a house which was fast coming to mean "home" for him - and said hello to Nick and Penny.
Nick tossed a newspaper at him.
Hobby was glad he was sitting down! The idea that anyone who killed Bellatrix could be a Voldemort supporter - he shuddered to think what Lady Longbottom must be feeling right now. In fact, it might not be a bad idea to cook up some story by which someone helped the wicked witch escape, in order to harm the Longbottoms, and that she - Lady Longbottom - had killed her. That would put the kibosh on this bullshit.
But he would not be able to do that without blowing his cover with Lady Longbottom, and he was not that desperate yet.
The next idea that struck him was to point out the significance of what was written on her face, and that only a muggle-born could know what it meant. But as before, the question was how to get this out without revealing himself. Plus, knowing what he knew of the Ministry and Malfoy, they would immediately jump on this to do something drastic like round up all muggle-borns and half-bloods. No no no, no innocents should suffer. He had already taken far too much of a risk by using a phrase that only muggle-raised could understand, but no more. He would need to be careful about that too, from now on.
In any case, Hobby, shocked by this development, realised he had to step up his plans, and may have to discard some of the finer, subtler aspects and take more direct action.
Meanwhile, confusion reigned supreme. The minister was squawking his (paid) lines, the Daily Prophet was parroting his story, the Quibbler had something sensible to say (apparently Luna's mother had seen the Wizard of Oz movie!) but no one took it seriously anyway.
The light side was angry and upset. They risked seeing a resurgence of the days before Halloween 1981, even if Voldemort was supposedly dead, with his death-eaters emboldened by their release. Dumbledore was the only exception, in that he did not seem to react much one way or the other, except to smile enigmatically and imply that he would bring them all to the light, or some such rot. (Minerva, Poppy, and Filius looked at each other worriedly at that, but decided to let it go. For now.)
The ordinary people, many of whom remembered both the atrocities committed by these same people, as well as the trials that sent them to Azkaban, were extremely worried. It may have helped if they were angry instead of being merely worried, but have you ever seen a bunch of angry sheep? Me neither!
1986-01-13 14:00 UTC, Ministry of Magic, Minister's Office
By lunch time, support had rallied around Malfoy's scheme. The death-eaters who had pleaded "imperius" were honor-bound to come to the aid of their comrades (it would look very suspicious if they did not, plus there was the fear of what Malfoy would do to them later!), and were petitioning the Minister for an early release. Like, today. In fact, more like, right now.
What they were afraid of, with some justification, was that Bones, Weasley, and Diggory would drum up support for either defeating the measure in the Wizengamot, or make a PR play out of it. While they themselves did not care what the public thought, the minister could be swayed if the mood against his administration got too ugly. After all, while he did want the bribes they gave him, his eligibility to receive the bribes was very much dependent on his continuing in office.
And so, they decided that immediate action, thus presenting the world at large with a fait accompli, was what was called for. As such, ministerial orders went out saying that all death-eaters were to be released forthwith. They didn't even bother with individual names, which was unprecedented.
Even more unprecedented, the minister himself, along with his top advisors, went to Azkaban prison to see the orders carried out. Of course this was a bit of a logistical nightmare, so it took a bit of time. But finally, at long last, they were en route to the prison.
Malfoy was beside himself with glee. He had engineered this, out of whole cloth. He would be getting all of his master's faithful servants out of prison. He was, in any case, de facto second in command, but the only real competition for that post was now dead, and in any case this would cement his position even before the dark lord came back.
1986-01-13 15:00 UTC, Malfoy Manor and other places
Harry's habit of jumping in with both feet had been nicely assimilated into Hobby. As such, after only a few minutes of anger, and a few more of concern, he realised that everyone who is anyone was at the Ministry.
So he quietly did something he was tempted to do a few days ago.
Pop to the kitchen of Yaxley manor, call his elven comrades. Stupify and obliviate them, hide them somewhere. Do the same to any women and children in the house. Fiendfyre the house. Bring the women and kids back and leave them on the grounds.
Just to make things interesting, mix them up randomly. For the women, cancel the stupify, and replace it with a mild sleeping charm so they would wake up in about an hour.
The only exception was Marcus, still transformed into Emily, who was stunned and placed in the Flint's dungeon.
Thus it was that Narcissa Malfoy found herself, around an hour later, on the Rowle's front lawns, wondering how she got there, and where Draco was. (Draco, the dear boy, found himself in Macnair's backyard. Curiously enough, right next to a huge axe that scared the shit out of him!).
1986-01-13 18:00 UTC, former Malfoy Manor
By the time the women and elves all woke up, took stock of where they were, made their way to their respective homes, realised there weren't any, apparated to one or other of their friends', and finally - after a lot of confusion - sorted themselves out, and then all trooped to the ministry, it was almost 6pm, and the ministerial party had returned (triumphantly, one might say!) with the released prisoners. A press conference proclaiming the victory of justice or some such rubbish had just completed. Never let it be said that bureaucracy is slow!
It was into this milieu - press contingent and all - that Narcissa, Draco, and the other wives (and kids, in some cases), and all of the elves of the affected families, trooped in.
It soon became clear that six manors had been burnt down (Malfoy, Avery, Macnair, Nott, Rowle, and Yaxley). This dampened the victory celebrations quite a bit. Immediately, Minister Fudge decided to visit his friend's house. Narcissa had, of course just come from there, and said there was absolutely nothing that could be salvaged, but PR was PR.
When the ministerial party, comprising the minister himself, most of the department heads (Weasley especially was interested in seeing if any dark artifacts had surfaced, so he tagged along), Madam Bones, assorted aurors, accompanied by the death-eaters and their families, (and let's not forget the press), arrived at Malfoy Manor, they found a truly incredible sight.
The ashes had vanished. The ground was pure black, with the charred material appearing to have been ground flat, but that was it. Someone very powerful had done this.
Bones was the first to spot something.
"Minister, I believe some of the black has been rubbed off, or is it painted over? I can't make out in this light." (It was after all 6pm in winter!)
"Indeed Madam Bones, I see more such lines in other places, now that you mention it".
"I wonder...could it be... words?", and so Bones called one of her aurors who was known to always carry a shrunken broom around, and told him to fly up and take a bird's eye view.
He came back and said "it says 'Draco's pocket'".
The young lad in question, having not yet attained the age where attention and adulation from anyone other than mom and dad were welcome, turned tail and ran when two dozen people turned to him. Madam Bones was behind him, however, and she caught him gently, and quickly searched his pockets.
She found a note, which she proceeded to read out:
Don't you love treasure hunts? Sadly, I did not get time to hide Draco himself, and make a multi-clue hunt. After all, what is a treasure hunt with only one clue!
Meanwhile, a few things for you death-eaters to think about:
Firstly, during the last war, your favourite fear tactic was to seal the house with the people inside and ignite it. Do you think I could not have done the same today?
Secondly, you know what's common to all six of you - why your manors were chosen. The muggles and muggle-borns you had in your dungeons have been freed and are being taken care of. All of them are being watched for any attempts at retaliation.
If I hear of ANY of you restarting this activity in any way, shape, or form, I will burn ALL of you, with ALL your women and children, the way you used to when your half-blood bastard of a dark lord was alive. Please note what I said carefully: if even ONE of you does it, you ALL die. I suggest you all had better watch each other like hawks from now on.
I am essentially taking the law into my own hands, because guilt and innocence apparently don't make a difference to this ministry, and only bribes do. When we get a minister who cannot be bribed, I will stop doing this. Madam Bones: I can see your righteous indignation at my blatant disregard for the law. If you want to stop me, get rid of this corrupt bastard and become the minister - I know you are honest and will do the right things.
Until then, expect a disproportionate response to anything these bastards do to normal, decent, folk.
The Phantom.
At this point Flint fainted.