This is an idea that I have been entertaining for quite some time. I know that stories with a similar premise have been written so I will try to keep this as original as I can. No plagiarism intended. I do not own either Legend of Korra or Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino own Legend of Korra
BTW, a big thanks to I'm a Basket Case, who's agreed to be my Beta Reader for this fanfic.
-Line Break-
As he waited for his backup to arrive, Albus mulled over that events that night. The diversionary battle proved costly for all involved, but the disappearance of Voldemort provided a golden opportunity for the Light.
'If we move quickly, we can neutralize the Death Eaters for good.' he mused.
He knew that Voldemort ruled almost exclusively through fear, which, combined with his narcissism and violent temper, meant that the Death Eaters focused more on gaining his favor than winning the war. There was also little intelligence that indicated Voldemort had a successor in place, so the issue of leadership should he disappear or die was never resolved. Thus, establishing a new leader would be a very complex and time-consuming affair.
'No time to waste then.' he concluded and he pulled out his mirror once more. "Madam Bones" he said, watching his reflection be replaced by that of a stern, solid-jawed woman.
"Albus?" she asked, concern and confusion clearly showing.
"Amelia, I have good news and bad news." he began. "The Potters are gone, and Alice and Frank Longbottom have been rendered severely, perhaps permanently, psychologically broken." grief washed over his features.
"However, Voldemort's disappeared, with no evidence that he did so magically. The security wards are down, but there is no magical residue from Apparition or a portkey." he continued, grief replaced by a firm determination. "The Floo is down, and there are no tracks leading away from the house."
"If what you say is true, we have a great opportunity here." Bones replied. "I'll gather my top Aurors and start hitting the Death Eater hideouts and safe houses".
Nodding furiously, Albus added "I'll send all the intelligence I have on them. Hopefully we can hit before they recover."
Following a quick nod, Bones turned behind her and yelled "Shacklebolt, get me Captains Jones, Rick, and Samson. We've got to carry out a massive attack and soon." Turning back she asked "When can I expect the intelligence Albus?"
"I'll send it within the hour. For security, I'll send it via Order members." he answered, just as the distant pops of Apparition sounded off outside. "I need to go. Contact you soon." he said, replacing the mirror back inside his robes. Just as he raised his wand, a voice called out "Anyone need a Healer?" and he slightly relaxed.
"We're from St Mungo's. We were sent to check on the Longbottoms." the voice, which he recognized as Paulo Pomphrey, the brother of the nurse at Hogwarts, continued.
"Come in, slowly." Dumbledore replied, not quite trusting the voice.
A moment later, a face peeked out through the front door: blonde, brown-eyed, a crooked nose, and eyes that showed long familiarity with pain and suffering. He looked around and then locked eyes with Dumbledore. For a brief moment, neither said or did anything, then Dumbledore lowered his wand, his stance shifting from alert to relieved.
"It's good to see you Paulo" he said, confident that it was indeed the Healer himself. "And yes, we do need help. Alice and Frank are in a dreadful state. See what you can do for them." he continued, pointing to his friends on the floor.
Shock playing out over his face, Paulo yelled "We've got two patients! Get them to St Mungo's!" and within a moment, more Healers arrived, standing by. As the Healers conjured stretchers, Paulo, swishing his wand, levitated the prone, unresponsive Longbottoms to waist level before gently lowering them onto the stretchers.
"We'll take care of Alice and Frank." he said as he and the others led the Longbottoms out through the door. "And Augusta arrived with us. She'll look after Neville."
"I've no doubt of that." Dumbledore said as he watched the Healers depart through the door. Soon after a new witch, shorter, older than the shortly departed Healers, but filled with a fiery determination that terrorized even the worst Death Eaters.
"Augusta, so sorry for this turn of events." he said, grief and anger evident on his face. "I must leave now but I promise I will return so we can make the necessary arrangements.". Augusta simply nodded and made her way to the nursery where her grandson lay.
Making his way off the grounds and pass the security wards, Dumbledore took one more look around and Apparated away.
-Line Break-
After arriving at his destination, Dumbledore made his way to the central hall of the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. After making sure the wards were still active, he pulled out his mirror and said "Arthur Weasley".
The mirror rippled to reveal a red-haired man with a thin face, glasses, and a touch of premature baldness.
"Albus, what is wrong?" the man, Arthur asked, confused concern playing across his face.
"We must move quickly." Dumbledore said. "I need you and Elphias to meet me at Madam Bones' office. We're planning a major attack on the Death Eaters."
"Now?!" Arthur asked, eyebrows raised in clear surprise. Whatever he was expecting, this was not it. "We just pulled out of a major engagement, suffered heavy losses, and you want us to go on the offensive?!"
"Things have changed Arthur." Dumbledore replied, firmly standing his ground. "Voldemort has disappeared without a trace."
Arthur, caught in mid-flinch at the mention of the dreaded name, asked "What do you mean he's disappeared?"
"He attacked the Longbottoms, broke Alice and Frank, attempted to kill Neville, and then just disappeared." Dumbledore began, watching anger, shock, and confusion play out over Arthur's face. "There's no magical residue, so he couldn't have Apparated away or escaped via a Portkey. There are no tracks leading out of the house, and the Floo was offline. For all his abilities, even Voldemort can't become intangible or move through solid ground."
"No, quite right." Arthur agreed. "So the Death Eaters are in a bit of a kerfuffle aren't they? And you want us to provide intel and manpower for the attack" he added, seeing Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Well I'll be there as soon as possible."
Nodding once, Dumbledore then said "Elphias Doge" and the mirror rippled to reveal a white-haired man, wrinkles of age and battle stretching across his temples and forehead, but with eyes holding a ferocity unexpected of someone his age.
"Albus, what's happening?" he asked.
"I need you to meet me and Arthur in Madam Bones' office." Dumbledore answered. "Voldemort's disappeared, and there's no evidence indicating he'll be back soon. If we move quickly, we can end the Death Eaters as a threat before they have a chance to regroup."
After a moment of stunned silence, Doge nodded and said "I'll be there soon." and he turned away from the mirror.
A brief moment later, Dumbledore made his way outside and Apparated away.
-Line Break-
Dumbledore reappeared at an old telephone booth, which was in dire need of repair and/or replacement, and, upon entry, dialed 62442.
As the dialer finished rotating, a feminine voice, in a professional, London accent, said "Please state your name and business."
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, law enforcement." Dumbledore replied.
"Thank you." the voice answered back, as the booth began to shudder, then descent straight into the ground. As the booth came to a stop, the voice said "Please make your way to the security desk and surrender your wand for inspection. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a good day."
Upon exiting the booth, Dumbledore felt a torrent of water fall over him, leaving him thoroughly soaked. With a wave of his hand, the fluid dispersed, leaving him dry as a bone. 'Bloody security measures.' he thought as he made his way to the front desk. The guard, a young woman, shrugged her shoulders in response, as though she knew what he was thinking. Nodding politely, Dumbledore handed his wand to her.
As she examined his wand, Dumbledore took the opportunity to look her over. She was young, probably in her mid to late thirties, with black hair and a deep tan like Professor Singh from the Delhi Academy of Magic, whom he shared letters with, and, with a brief Legilimency probe, totally and vehemently opposed to the Death Eaters.
"Everything's in working order sir." she said, handing him his wand and a small bag from behind the desk. "Here's your wand and your badge for the day. Enjoy."
"Thank you. You do the same." he answered. Reaching into the bag he pulled out a small bronze badge. Written in gold letters, he read "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Law Enforcement. Approved by the Ministry of Magic". Rolling his eyes at the last part, Dumbledore put it on as he made his way across the atrium, pausing to look at the water fountain, which displayed a centaur, goblin, and house-elf looking up in awe and wonder at the wizard and witch in the center.
'Is it no wonder we're having difficulties against Voldemort.' he mused as he made his way to the lift. "Hold please" a voice called, pulling his attention back from the lift.
It was Arthur Weasley and Elphias Doge, briskly walking across the atrium to the lift, the latter struggling somewhat to keep up with the younger man.
Upon their arrival, Dumbledore closed the lift and called "Department of Magical Law Enforcement.".
"So, what makes you think this isn't a ploy by You-Know-Who to get us to expose our hand?" Arthur asked as the lift descended deeper into the Ministry.
"Simple: I've got a spy in Voldemort's ranks." he answered, slightly annoyed as both men flinched at the name. "This spy informed me that he was expecting his master's return shortly after his attack tonight, but he never came. It's not like Voldemort to not keep to his plans. Say what you will of him but one thing you can't fault him for is procrastination. The spy even went so far as to touch his Dark Mark, but Voldemort never responded all night, which is impossible."
Weasley and Doge raised their eyebrows at this.
"If Voldemort was able, he would have appeared soon after the Dark Mark was touched." Dumbledore explained. "The fact that the spy was stood up means that it was impossible for Voldemort to answering the Dark Mark."
"So...then he's...dead?" Doge asked, disbelief and a twinge of hope ringing in his voice.
For a moment, Dumbledore was silent, pondering the question. Truth be told, he was not convinced Voldemort was truly gone. One of Voldemort's greatest ambitions was to live forever, and there was no limit as to how far he would go to achieve his aspirations. Deep down, with every iota of his being, he believed that, somehow, Voldemort survived this night...but without proof of his hypothesis, he knew no one save his more trusting followers would accept it, and Doge was not quite among them.
"I do not know." he finally answered as the lift came to a stop. "I just know that this is our best chance."
Disembarking, the men made their way down the hall to the larger offices, which happened to host an enchanted window that showed Big Ben as it appeared at that time of night. Turning to the door, which had the words "Head of Magical Law Enforcement" blazed onto the wood, they knocked softly yet firmly several times.
Slowly the door creaked open and a face peeked out: male, mangled, and covered in scars, with a large, broad nose. However, it was the eyes that identified the man: one was small, dark, perfectly human; the other was wide, the size of a galleon, electric blue, and perpetually spinning, turning in directions impossible for a normal human.
"Alastor Moody, how good to see you again." Dumbledore said, smiling.
Moody looked at him, then at Doge, then at Weasley, and after a long hard stare at all three finally opened the door all the way. "It's good to see you too Albus." he said, reaching out his hand and shaking the old Headmaster's firmly. "Bones told me there was a big operation going down and I wanted in. She said I might not be up to it, what with the new leg and all, but I...convinced her otherwise."
"I wouldn't have expected anything less." Dumbledore responded, smiling at Moody's story. "Now may we come in so we can discuss the plan?" he asked.
Moody, with a short nod, quickly moved aside, allowing them to enter.
The room inside was relatively bare, with only a desk, a few chairs, and a fireplace with a flower pot, no doubt filled with Floo powder. Above the fireplace lay the only decoration visible in the room: a painting of a house made of red sandstone, with granite quoins and arching, stain-glass windows framed in light gray brick leading up to a triangular roof set against a hipped roof topped with a series of chimneys. Around the house was a row of trees bearing apples, pears, and peaches, all ripe for the plucking. Beneath the trees lay a line of flowers, with colors ranging from red to white, perfectly complementing the trees above them. The background showed a clear, blue sky, with a small pond to the right of the house, the few clouds in the sky reflected perfectly in the water.
'Bones Manor, how well I remember it.' Dumbledore thought fondly, memories of a happier time, playing with friends under the trees, eating fruit around the pond, and studying in the library, flashing across his mind.
"I appreciate your taste in art Albus," a voice said, breaking Dumbledore from his nostalgia. "But we really have important business to discuss." Turning his attention to the desk, he saw Bones and a line of Aurors standing by, ready for action.
"Yes, quite right." he said quickly, making his way to the desk. "Now I assume all of you know about Voldemort's disappearance, so I'll be brief." Ignoring the collective flinch at the dreaded moniker, he pulled out his wand and conjured a map of Britain, one where only a few of the major metropolitan areas were highlighted. "Voldemort, as I understand it, never considered naming a successor, as he believed himself to be immortal and invincible. So now that he's vanished, the Death Eaters are currently leaderless. Furthermore, to prevent them from turning against him, he fostered fear and mistrust among themselves, so they're unlikely to unite under a new leader without significant infighting. If we want to take them out we must strike now."
His audience nodding, Dumbledore flicked his wand at the map, and a number of locations lit up with a skull featuring a snake protruding from its mouth, the Dark Mark. "I have a spy within the Death Eater ranks, and according to the intelligence provided by him, these are the most significant Death Eater safe houses."
"Much of this does correspond with our intelligence regarding them." Bones replied, looking the map over. "But from what we know, they are extremely well-protected. How can we expect to take them down without mass casualties?" she asked, worry crossing her face.
"My spy has provided key intelligence regarding the weak spots of those wards." Dumbledore answered. "They are all very strong and overlap each other, so breaking them is difficult. However, they do have a few weaknesses." and with a small tap on the table, the map was replaced with a schematic of a two-story house. "First of all, the anti-Apparition wards are older and independent of the other defensive wards, so if we take the latter down, the Death Eaters won't have the option of simply Apparating away. Second, in order for the Death Eaters to enter and leave without continuously deactivating and reactivating the wards, they are keyed to the Dark Mark itself. If you are marked, have a steady heartbeat and respiration, and enter of your own free will, the wards will not activate."
"So what we need is a Trojan Death Eater." Bones interjected, shock and suspicion playing across her face. "Where do we find a Trojan Death Eater? And how do we know he won't betray us at the last instant?" she inquired, shoulder muscles rising in anger.
"We already have one, the spy I've mentioned multiple times: Severus Snape." Dumbledore answered, and everyone present raised their eyebrows in shock and anger. "I know he's done terrible things, but he has repented and is seeking redemption." he added quickly, hoping to alleviate their doubts.
"Why? What could have caused this change of heart?" Moody asked. "I didn't see it when we saw those children in Kent, crying over the corpses of their parents after Count Krov and his court feasted upon them. Or those people in the trailer park, ripped apart by Greyback and his wolves. Or those women in Edinburgh, stripped, flayed, and..."
"Enough Alastor!" Bones interrupted. "We don't need to be reminded of those atrocities. But an excellent point Albus. What could have happened that would make Snape, of all people, suddenly change hearts like this?"
"Snape...owes James a life debt." Dumbledore replied, though not without some hesitation. "He would rather avoid remaining indebted to him by serving James' last cause." While that seemed to satisfy some people, Bones was not among them. "If it makes you feel any better, I will place a curse on Snape, one that will cripple him at the first sign of betrayal." he sighed, knowing Bones would not settle for anything less.
"I will inspect the curse myself Albus." Bones replied. "But make no mistake: Snape WILL be closely watched. AND...at the first hint of betrayal, we WILL end him. Understood?" she asked, eyes staring hard into Dumbledore.
Nodding wearily, Dumbledore turned his attention back to the schematic. "Now that we've cleared that up, this is Mr Travers' house. He's in charge of Death Eater operations in this part of Britain, as well as the areas immediately to the west and north. According to Snape, he prefers to let his subordinates run wild, only summoning a few to his house at any one time. Therefore, we have the advantage of numbers. I suggest we approach on foot, let Snape disable the wards, then we move in and grab Travers and all available information regarding his operations" Dumbledore explained, holding everyone's attention.
"Sounds like a plan." Moody agreed, along with many of their comrades.
"Moving on," Dumbledore said and, tapping the schematic, changed it to a different blueprint.
-Line Break-
Silently, stiffly, Snape made his way to the house of Travers, one of the most dangerous Death Eaters to grace Voldemort's ranks. With careful ease, Snape walked up the stairs, and knocked upon the door. Though it would have been easy to simply open it himself, he knew Travers was paranoid enough to fill the house with booby traps, which only he could deactivate.
"Who is it?!" a hoarse voice called out.
"Severus Augustus Snape." he replied, his voice monotone, betraying none of the emotions roiling inside him.
Evidently he passed the test for the door, slowly and creaking loudly, opened. Snape entered at a swift pace, but constantly stopped to check his surroundings. After all, in a house rigged with booby traps, you could never be too careful.
As he made his way down the hall, Snape became aware of a foul smell, akin to month-old sweat mixed with the musk of an elephant in heat. 'So, taking stimulant potions are we?' he mused, recognizing the stench from his experience in Potions. 'No wonder he's become so paranoid.' he mused as he made his way into the living room, the hall growing increasingly malodorous. 'Even if you don't feel sleepy, it's never a good idea to go too long without it. The potions will keep you from dying, but they can't stave off the effects of chronic sleep deprivation forever.'
As he reached the living room, the stench mixed with that of laundry soaked in blood, guts, and semen. 'Evidently he couldn't even change his clothes. At the very least he's using the bathroom.' he mentally rejoiced, thankful for that particular smell's absence.
"Severus, what has happened?!" Travers called from inside, prompting Snape to enter unto a very interesting sight to say the least. The walls were covered in maps, overlaid with pictures of Aurors and Order members, knives, nails, and tacks sticking them to the walls, multicolored yarn connecting them like a giant game of connect the dots. The floor, void of furniture, was covered in a giant map of Britain itself, with a similar game playing out in front of him, only bigger and much, much more entangled. Seeing this, he laid himself flat against the wall and inched his way around the room.
"If you're wondering what has happened to the room, I'd say you've happened it to." he replied, aiming to keep Travers off guard until he could get into position. While he was a skilled duelist, he knew the best strategy was to take Travers down in one shot, and he only had one chance to do so. One of the side-effects of stimulant potions was heightened awareness of one's surroundings and increased reaction time, though with continuous sleep deprivation this would result in aggression, obsessive attention to detail, and, eventually, paranoia.
Snorting dryly, Travers snapped "No, no, no, no, no! Not the room, the Dark Lord!" and he began frantically looking over the room, as though expecting a visit from said Dark Lord. "I've touched the Dark Mark and he's not responded! I've been touching it for an hour, AN HOUR!" he ranted. "And you know how he is about punctuality! He Crucio'd the Carrows for half an hour for being thirteen seconds late, THIRTEEN SECONDS! So where is he?!"
"I've been with the fool Dumbledore for the past few hours." Snape explained, slowly raising his wand. "He sent parties to check on the Potters and the Longbottoms, after realizing the attack on Diagon Alley was merely a diversion. Apparently, the Dark Lord disappeared after attacking the Longbottoms."
"WHAT?!" Travers yelled, slouching over the table at the far end of the room. "What do you mean disappeared?! The only reason he would not answer is..." his body stiffened as his brain processed that train of thought. "No. No! No, no, no, no, NO!" he ranted, his body turning and convulsing violently. "He's not...he's not...". As his body convulsed, he turned back to the map.
Seeing his chance, Snape whispered "Stupefy.", hitting the man square in the back, Travers dropping over the table like a rag doll.
Swiftly, Severus made his way to the fireplace, where the keystone ward was and deactivated it. With a low-pitch hum, the wards shut down in a brief flash of blue light washing over the house.
Almost immediately, Dumbledore and the Aurors burst in, some heading upstairs to check for hidden reinforcements, others heading for the study to confiscate the books and any other information they could.
Meanwhile, Dumbledore, Moody, and Weasley entered the living room. Momentarily stunned by the layout, and the stench, they made their way to the table where Travers lay stunned and powerless.
"Nice work Snape." Dumbledore said as he bound Travers with magic-suppressing shackles. "One down, four to go."
-Line Break-
The next house they hit was the Carrow's, where a small meeting was being held in the wake of Voldemort's sudden disappearance. As the Death Eaters sat around the table, Amycus Carrow broke the news. "My fellow Death Eaters, our Lord has failed to respond to our hails for the last few hours. If anyone has any knowledge of why this is, speak up."
After a brief moment of confused silence, Amycus continued. "In the wake of his prolonged absence, I move to take over as temporary overseer of all Death Eater activities for the foreseeable future."
At Amycus's proclamation the gathered Death Eaters rankled, with one rising up and yelling "By what right do you claim to take the Dark Lord's place Amycus?!"
Amycus, sneering at the upstart Death Eater, calmly, contemptuously replied "I claim the right of superior blood, Euan. My family tree goes back beyond the Norman Invasion, eight centuries of magic! Your family on the other hand, only has two generations, tops."
"My you must be stupid." Euan scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "Those two generations cover BOTH sides of my family, whereas your claim only covers your mother's." Leaning across the table, Euan added "And if I recall correctly your father was...a MAILMAN. Yes I know your father is, supposedly, the great Angus Carrow...but you don't share that strong a family resemblance, do you?" Smirking, he asked "So what's worse: legitimate son of a new family, or bastard son of a Muggle?"
Amycus, red with fury, roared out "How DARE you impugn the purity of my bloodline?!". Rising from the table, Amycus whipped out his wand, prompting Euan to do the same.
"Are you sure you wanna do that Amy?" Euan taunted. "I was the European Dueling Champion four years in a row. You, on the other hand, have lost two out of every three battles you've fought for four years. Or is it higher?"
"We'll see about that, you who would besmirch my family name!" Amycus spat as he cast a red curse toward Euan, only for his opponent to lazily dodge and retaliate.
As the other Death Eaters rapidly withdrew from the table, Amycus hastily erected a shield and cast another curse, only for Euan to repeat his prior performance. Furious, Amycus launched curse after curse, but each attack was either blocked, parried, or dodged. Seeing Euan's perpetual smirk only fueled his rage as Amycus intensified his attacks.
A few moments later, Amycus attacks began to slow, as his breathing became shorter and shallower. Euan, seeing Amycus falter, raised his wand and said "Tarantallegra." and everyone watched as Amycus' legs began jerking and dancing involuntarily. Some snickered, driving Amycus' fury to new heights but the uncontrolled jerking of his legs made casting spells near impossible.
Basking in his rival's public humiliation, Euan continued his assault.
"Rictusempra." and Amycus broke out into uncontrollable laughter.
"Incendio." he added, sending a fireball at his crippled rival, watching smugly as Amycus' robes caught fire.
"All burned up?" he taunted as the fire spread, his laughs interrupted by a hacking cough from his victum.
"Aquamenti." saw a jet of water soaking Amycus, his robes in tatters as his legs continued their convulsive dancing. "Now, you're ALL wet."
Red-faced with rage, Amycus tried to retaliate but the charms delayed his wand.
"Get the point?" Euan taunted as he transfigured Amycus' chair into a phalanx of swords.
Amycus, seeing the danger, paled as terror replaced his fury and his dancing legs carried him closer to the blades.
Unfortunately for Euan, while his attention was solely focused on Amycus, a red and black curse hit square in the shoulder. Euan collapsed over the table, his smirk transforming into a grimace of agony, clutched at his stomach, where it seemed dozens of snakes were poking, tearing to break loose.
Suddenly his throat, then his cheeks, began bulging outward, forcing Euan to cover his mouth with his hands. Eyes wide in a horror-struck face, Euan, recognizing the curse, desperately tried to cast but it was too late: as soon as he moved his hand, blood and yellow pus, then a slimy, segmented snake, vomited up into his hand. Looking down in pure, unadulterated horror, he held the snake over the table, revealing it to be his small intestine.
Just then, another coughing bout followed, and a larger, darker object erupted out his mouth, the stench of blood and excrement filling the room. Euan, horrified by his fate, tried to scream but his mouth, clogged by bodily fluids, wouldn't comply.
Looking around for the caster, he saw the sadistic smirk of Alecto Carrow, Amycus' much-too-close sister, and watched as she raised her wand and said "Avada kedavra". The last thing Euan saw was a flash of green as his body collapsed over the table, face-down in his vomited fluids.
Amycus, smirking at Euan's corpse, boasted "THAT'S what a short family line amounts to". Turning to the other Death Eaters, he asked "Anyone else want to try?"
Three Death Eaters at the far end of the table rose and drew their wands.
"You've no right to gloat." one man, tall with a crew-cut declared. "It was only thanks to your sister that you survived. If she were not here, you'd be mincemeat."
His moment of glory spoiled, Amycus' face turned red and he pointed his wand at the new challengers. "How would you like to duel me here and now?!" he challenged. Grimly, the three Death Eaters raised their wands and took defensive stances.
As the battle lines were drawn, Snape stealthily made his way into the room and surveyed the situation. 'What a fine bunch they are.' he mused, condescension marinating his thoughts. 'They're in the middle of a war, leaderless, with no plan, and they're bickering among themselves? I don't believe what anyone says: the Sorting Hat DOES make mistakes' he drawled, noting some striking similarities between them and his old housemates.
Putting those thoughts aside, Snape surveyed the room and found the mantle near the head of the table, which contained the keystone ward housed inside an ancient stone shield. Without that shield, the wards, nearly unbreakable, would collapse within minutes. All he needed was one good shot, and with the idiots in front of him about to duel to the death, he had plenty of opportunities... and scapegoats.
As the duel unfolded, he saw the Carrows face off against their three contenders with brutal but unimaginative tactics: simple Blasting spells and Shield charms. 'I knew cunning was never their strong suit, but really?' he thought as he turned his attention to the other side, which was being far more creative, combining hexes and jinxes with occasional Transfiguration.
The crew-cut managed to transfigure a bust of Amycus' father into a nest of hornets which promptly attacked the Carrows. Seeing them dance and yelp with pain, while simultaneously trying to dodge incoming hexes, caused a rare, small smile to grace his lips. 'Wish I could have done that to Potter and his gang.' he thought bitterly. 'But enough of that.'
Soon enough, the Carrows shook off the bee stings and prepared to strike back, with Amycus raising his wand and yelling "Maximus Bombarda".
'Now's my chance' Snape thought as he raised his wand and, quiet as a ghost, whispered "Depulso".
The spell grabbed Amycus' wand and pushed it slightly to his right and upward just as the spell was completed. To everyone's surprise the spell missed all his targets and hit the stone shield, pulverizing it as the shock wave sent nearby Death Eaters flying.
His task complete, Snape withdrew into the hall and listened as the Death Eaters began to panic. Hearing pops nearby, he turned to see a phalanx of Aurors, Alastor Moody at the head, ready and waiting.
"They're in the drawing room around a table." he said quickly. "Six are on the side closest to the door, with three by the back way and two farthest from the entry."
Giving a thumbs-up in understanding, Moody and the Aurors barged into the room and engaged the Death Eaters. Taken by surprise, most of the Death Eaters, including the Carrows, were stunned or paralyzed almost immediately. The three near the back way, however, managed to erect shield charms as they tried to escape..only to be pinned down by a trio of lionesses that Moody created by transfiguring the table.
As the lionesses bit down into the arms and throats of their prey, the Aurors, focusing their attacks on the last two, transfigured the carpet beneath them into a large python. As the python grappled with one of the Death Eaters, the other transfigured the chairs into wolves and sent them against the Aurors as he turned to run. One Auror, seeing the fleeing Death Eater, charged into the wolf pack and managed to stun him even as the wolves bit into her right forearm and legs. As the last Death Eater succumbed, the other Aurors canceled his Transfiguration, reverting the wolves back into chairs, and began rounding up their fallen foes.
Minutes later, Healers entered the meeting room and quickly made their way to the wounded, dispensing potions, herbs, and charms in a flurry of activity. Seeing the relatively light cost of the battle, with no deaths or grievous injuries, Moody turned to Snape and said "Well done Severus".
-Line Break-
Upon reaching the third house, Malfoy Manor, Snape entered without delay or hassle and made his way to Lucius' study. Upon his arrival, he paused to look over the room, which was surprisingly spartan for someone of Lucius' status: there was only a small table, two chairs, and a single line of bookshelves, with the most prominent feature being a large window, which easily took up half of the wall.
There, he saw Lucius, staring out the window, his back turned to Snape, contemplating the constellations.
"Severus, why have you come?" Lucius asked, never taking his eyes off the stars, though a subtle motion in his robes hinted him grasping his wand. "Have you information on our Lord?" worry inflecting his voice at the thought of Voldemort.
"All I know is that, in his absence, the Aurors have taken the opportunity to round us all up." Snape replied, watching Lucius' back stiffen. "Without the Dark Lord's guidance, we are scattered, leaderless, without direction. Soon they will come for you."
"What?! How?!" Lucius snapped, turning at last to face Snape. "How do they know of my involvement?!" he demanded, his face pale with worry while his eyes burned with anger.
"There was a spy in our ranks." Snape replied. "He has provided the necessary evidence that you funded our Lord, generously at that...and practiced the Unforgiveables on many people."
Lucius, shocked at the news, trembled slightly as he contemplated his next move.
"However, there is hope for you yet." Snape interjected, snapping Lucius back to the present. "For someone of your status, a trial is guaranteed, which is the perfect opportunity for you to claim that you were actually under the Imperius curse. It has worked for others, and it will be all too easy for you."
"And how do you know Dumbledore won't come after me?" Lucius drawled, his voice tightening ever so slightly at the mention of his old Headmaster.
"He won't go after you." Snape scoffed. "He has so many other responsibilities that he won't have the time. Besides, even if he did have the time, he would be facing the battle of the century. Though your image may be tarnished, you'll still hold considerable influence among the elite and the Ministry. Prosecuting you would cause a scandal and serious political ramifications, possibly even polarizing our society. Dumbledore, for all his power and knowledge, is far too timid to force the issue; always preferring to give people another chance, no matter how many times they let him down." For a moment, his voice cracked as the last comment conjured up bitter, painful memories.
With a slow breath, Snape resumed. "In any case, after the chaos and turmoil of this war, the last thing the people will want is another conflict. So, even if Dumbledore had the desire and the spine to prosecute you, the people would never allow it. Thus, this will work." he finished.
Lucius' face, while retaining his habitual sneer, showed small hints of the emotions raging inside him. On the one hand, he galled at the humiliation of being judged by people of inferior breeding, which included a number of the Wizengamot. Under normal circumstances, membership on the Wizengamot was hereditary, passed on through family lines. How could the sons of paupers ever perform as well as the high and mighty?
However, many families were extinguished during the war, forcing them to adopt new blood into the system to fill out the vacancies. To be fair, many of the new faces were rather old, with their youngest barely over sixty-five. With so many of the younger generation fighting in the war, there was simply no one else; and besides, who but the elders could ever have the wisdom to judge fairly and honorably? Still, many of them were mere mudbloods, and the thought of them judging him was abominable.
However, once he silenced his pride, his Slytherin training reasserted itself. What would he gain from fighting a losing battle? If he resisted arrest or denied his wartime actions, he would spend all his life in Azkaban; his body, mind, and magic rotting, dwindling as time and inactivity relentlessly gnawed at him. But most of all, his name, his family name, which had been a powerful and influential force since the Norman Invasion, would be forever tarnished, a target of scorn and contempt.
'My name.' he thought, realizing just how high the stakes were now. With his conviction, his wife would divorce him and raise their infant son, Draco, with the name of Black, thus sentencing his name, his line, to extinction. Could he allow that to happen? And what would become of his son, his heir? How would Narcissa raise him? What would Draco think of his father? The fool that destroyed his family name out of pride? And did he want to cut himself out of Draco's life before he ever had a chance?
With those thoughts, his course of action became clear.
"I'll surrender once the Aurors arrive." he said. Raising his wand, he pointed it at the only decoration in the study, an elaborate plaque displaying the stars. Aiming at the north star, Polaris, a single string of light exited his wand, hitting it dead-center. The star blinked momentarily and with a low hum, the wards deactivated.
"It is done." Lucius said, footfalls sounding off outside. "Let us commence." and, dropping his wand at Snape's feet, he raised his arms over his head in surrender.
Moments later, the Aurors arrived, with Doge at their head. Seeing Malfoy near the window, Doge raised his wand and said "Lucius you are under arrest.".
A brief lookover later, Doge retrieved Malfoy's wand while the Aurors bound his hands with magic-suppressing shackles and searched his person for any potential Portkeys. Once they completed their search, the Aurors led him to the door where they Apparated away.
A moment later, Snape followed them to the grounds where he Apparated to the next house: Karkaroff's.
-Line Break-
To say that Karkaroff's house was a headache was like saying the sun is a little bright. Karkaroff was with a number of Death Eaters who had gotten into an argument regarding Voldemort's disappearance. Some, like Karkaroff wanted to wait for instructions from their master lest they incur his wrath by acting without orders. Others, like Evan Rosier, wanted to take the initiative and go on the offensive, citing the cost of the Diagon Alley battle on their enemies.
When Snape arrived he could hear the bickering from the other side of the house.
'Good, let them bicker.' he thought. 'It will make my job much easier.' and he made his way to the cellar.
There he found the keystone ward: an ancient human skull, set atop an altar surrounded by candles. Unbeknownst to most people, this house was originally of the House of MacKenna, an old Scottish family that claimed descent from Kenneth MacAlpin, the first king of the Scots and Picts. From their ancestors, the MacKennas retained rather archaic and foul practices, namely Necromancy. They used the flesh, blood, and bones of friend and foe alike for Potions, Divination, breakfast cups, and anything else they might think of. Most infamously, using a combination of Necromancy and Legilimency, they severed the heads of their own kin, either upon death or irredeemable failure, and suspended them in living death to preserve their memories and knowledge. Even with the invention of Pensieves, which could store memories indefinitely and independently of a living brain, they continued this practice until their extinction in the war, when the last two members, Ailean and his son Alan, were killed in a raid.
The skull on the altar, now a keystone ward, stood as a testament to their unquestioning loyalty to tradition and faith in the old ways.
'Time to bury the past.' Snape thought as he went about deactivating the security wards around the skull. That task complete, he placed a vial, filled with yellow-green fluid and capped with a wooden stopper, over the skull. Angling it so the neck leaned down above the skull via a simple levitation spell, he watched the fluid flow down the neck and collect at the stopper. Nodding in approval of the setup, he climbed back upstairs and followed the bickering voices to the meeting room.
Upon his arrival, he found that the bickering had become worse, with higher, louder voices and battle lines being drawn.
Exasperated, Karkaroff stood up and muttered "All this yelling...I need a drink.". Slipping out of the room, he bumped into Snape at the far end of the hall. Seeing his Death Eater in arms, Karkaroff made his way over to Snape and, with great fear and excitement, asked "Severus, why are you here? Do you know what is happening?".
"I have information, none of it good." Snape answered, mentally sneering as fear gripped Karkaroff. "The Dark Lord is gone, and the Aurors are moving quickly to round up as many Death Eaters as possible."
Recovering from the news quickly, Karkaroff replied "Let them. They have not found us yet, and the wards are impenetrable."
Shaking his head, Snape retorted "The wards are far from impenetrable as you well know. They've already discovered a weak point, and, as of this moment, are on their way."
"How?!" Karkaroff asked, eyes bulging and face paling. "There must have been an informant! But whom?!"
"You know as well as I how our organization works." Snape replied. "It must have been someone from your cell. Who else could it have been? The Dark Lord?" he sneered in ridicule at such a notion. "And in any case, it hardly matters now." he said as a low hum rang off around them.
'Sounds like the acid finally did its job.' he thought. 'The dissolution potion was perfect.'
Karkaroff, hearing the wards drop, began to panic. "Severus, what's going on?!" he asked, grabbing the man by his robes. "Who's the informant?! Do you have any idea?!"
Snape, seemingly indifferent to Karkaroff's actions, simply replied "If I were you, I'd run while I could." and at those words, Karkaroff released his grip.
Realizing that his timing made him the most probable suspect, he briefly looked around and heard the bickering die down as the other Death Eaters noticed the discrepancy. His time short, Karkaroff bolted for the back kitchen, where he activated his emergency Portkey and disappeared without a trace.
Meanwhile, Snape took the opportunity to duck into a broom closet, waiting and listening for the inevitable battle.
He did not have to wait long.
Soon he heard Moody yell out "Surrender quietly and we'll take you in alive.". The only response was a shriek as an Auror, female by the sound of it, was hit by an unknown spell. "Never!" a voice responded, and the battle began in full.
The Aurors, using the same tactics from the Carrow house, soon pinned the Death Eaters against the back of the meeting room.
The Death Eaters, seeing the attack unfold, transfigured the furniture into short but sturdy palisades to aid in their defense. With their line established, the Death Eaters counterattacked, forcing the Aurors back toward the hall.
The battle soon devolved into a stalemate: the Aurors could not get in, but the Death Eaters could not get out. All either side could do was fire randomly with curses and jinxes, hoping that someone was hit.
Slowly, carefully, Snape emerged from the broom closet. Bending down, he crawled behind the Aurors until he reached Moody. Tapping him on the shoulder he asked "Moody, what's the layout?".
"A line of palisades set up like an inverted bow." he gruffly responded, using his eye to survey the layout. "There's a back door to our right. If you can get there, you can hit at least some of them. Punch a few holes in their defense and we can take them out in a last assault."
Nodding his comprehension, Snape made his way back down the hall to a second room, the ballroom in fact. Inside he briefly saw an old, glass chandelier, painted with flowers and vines of green, red, and blue, hanging over a mosaic floor of black and white forest animals.
'What a nice place for a dance. Lily would've loved it.' he thought bitterly as he ran through the room and entered a small, non-descript door. Inside he found a three way intersection between the kitchen, the meeting room, and the ballroom. To his left, he saw a partially opened door, through which he heard the sounds of battle ringing down the intersection.
Stealthily, Snape made his way to the door and, with great care, opened it just a crack so he could see properly. Looking over the Death Eaters, obscured by dust and smoke, he had to admit they knew what they were doing. They did not just set up a working defensive line; they had overlapping kill zones, so even if one was taken out, the line would not immediately fall. To make a dent, he would have to take out at least three combatants, preferable those near the center.
Angling for the best possible shot, he fired a stupefy at the last seen Death Eater position, timing it so it hit when another combatant cast a spell...and missed.
Fuming he tried again...and missed once more.
'Better rethink this here.' he mused. 'Or soon I'M going to need a rescue.'
After a moment's reflection, he realized that he had a much better way of finding his targets: instead of trying to see their actual bodies, he would trace their spells back to them via the brightly colored magic.
'Why did I not think of that earlier?' he pondered with some exasperation. 'And why am I doing this? Moody's eye would be FAR better equipped for this. Nothing for it now.'
Resigning to the absurdity of his position, Snape peered through the door and, aiming to the right of the origins of a green curse, cast a stunner. Hearing a body fall, he quickly aimed for a second target, followed quickly by a third. He thought of attempting a fourth, but knowing better than to tempt fate, he duck back into the shadows and listened as the battle unfolded.
Suddenly, there was a massive explosion, followed by a war cry from the Aurors as they rushed into the room. The Death Eaters attempted a gallant defense, but it was clear they were overwhelmed. Some tried to surrender right then and there, only to get hit in the back for their cowardice. Others, like Evan, who shouted his refusal earlier, desperately fought on. But it was all in vain: one-by-one, the Death Eaters were stunned, petrified, or killed.
The last one standing was Evan himself, who engaged Moody in a vicious duel. Superbly skilled, Evan managed to take a chunk out of Moody's nose with a severing hex. As Moody reeled from the pain, Evan moved for the kill. Seeing this, Snape raised his wand to intervene...only for Moody to spin around and cast a hex square into Evan's chest. The spell thrust Evan into the back wall, the force so great the wall dented. Evan slid down to the floor like a broken marionette, his chest caved in from the force of Moody's spell.
With Evan dead, the Aurors quickly confiscated the Death Eaters' wands and shackled them with magic-suppressing bindings. Clutching his bleeding nose, Moody turned to Snape as he emerged from the side hall, and said "Well done. Very well done."
Snape, tired from the battle, merely nodded as he fell against the wall, breathing heavily.
-Line Break-
The final house proved by far the most difficult to take: it was the Lestrange Manor, home of Voldemort's most fanatical follower, Bellatrix Lestrange. The manor was impressive, built atop a hill and spread out over the grounds, with a paved road, lined by yew trees, leading to the front doors. Flanking the doors were large, arched, black tinted windows that spread out to the north and south wings. The second floor had its windows boarded up save for slits, perfect for snipers. Most bizarre though, was the roof. On the outside it looked steeply sloped with red and black dormers adorning it, but in the middle was a flat top, with the dormers and the slope providing cover for any lookout guards stationed upon it.
'All in all, a formidable defense.' Snape thought as he and Moody looked it over. "We can't use stealth this time. We'll have to go all out." he said, Moody nodding in confirmation. "Given what's happened so far, they'll be expecting monkey business."
"Which is why I thought Arthur and Elphias would join us this time." Dumbledore said. "Both have experience in wards, so they should be able to overcome the...nastier pieces. We've also called for reinforcements from both the Order and the Auror corps. Together, we should be able to overpower the Lestranges."
Looking back he saw the full force assembled to bring the Lestranges to justice: over 45 Aurors, 25 Order members, and, most unexpectedly, over 30 werewolves and vampires. Although many were lured in by Voldemort's promises of freedom and vengeance, others fiercely fought against him; some out of loyalty to their friends; some out of vengeance against the Death Eaters; others simply to prove that they were not just savage beasts.
"Ephias, have you or Arthur made any headway with the wards?" Dumbledore asked as he reached Doge and Weasley, stooped over a layout of the Manor.
Looking up from his work, Doge replied "I think we have uncovered the weak point in their wards, but even so it will take a considerable amount of power and/or time to defeat them.". Frowning, Doge added "We estimate it could take at least fifteen minutes to break through with conventional methods... far too long if you ask me".
"Is there a way to speed up the process?" Dumbledore asked, anxious to get the raid underway.
"Well there are a few, but we wouldn't recommend them." Weasley replied. "They put the user at a heightened risk of severe injury or even death, and even then there's no guarantee that they will work. That's probably why the Lestranges chose this warding system. If taking down the wards doesn't kill you, then they will."
"What are the alternatives you mentioned?" Dumbledore asked.
"Just keeping our options open." he added hastily, seeing the looks of incredulity from the two ward specialists.
"Well basically when you're dealing with wards you have the option of deactivating them or overloading them." Weasley explained. "Deactivation is always preferable because it poses minimal risk to yourself and whatever the wards are guarding, but it takes considerable time and precise understanding of the wards in question. Most ward systems are built with the expectation that some will be deactivated, so redundancies and backups are installed to prevent the whole system from collapsing. To deactivate the system, you need to understand how the wards interact with each other, so you know which to deactivate and when."
After taking a short breath, he continued "However to get that precise understanding, you either need to be the one that created the system, have decades of experience, or a LOT of time to tease out the interactions, and it's the last one that will eat up our time. We have been studying the system for the last two hours and we only understand about half at best. I'm willing to bet Bellatrix is saving the nastiest wards for last.".
Pausing for a brief moment, Weasley looked over the manor, his face subtly hinting at his internal debate.
"In cases where you either lack sufficient time or simply don't care about what the wards are guarding, overloading is permissible." he said, turning his attention back to Dumbledore. "Essentially you pump a large amount of magic into the distribution and harvesting systems. Wards usually draw their magic from the wizard using them or the Earth itself via Ley Lines. The former allows you to make extremely powerful but very transient wards for personal defense, while the latter is great for long-term, large-scale areas. However, in this case we are having some difficulty determining the keystone ward of the harvesting system."
"What causing the difficulty?" Dumbledore asked as confusion creased his features. "Normally the flow of magic is enough to indicate the location of the keystone ward. Even concealment spells wouldn't be able to hide that. Such spells would use a large amount of magic, meaning more would flow toward the keystone ward and thus make its signature more prominent."
"We have a theory: multiple keystone wards." Doge answered, turning their attention to him. "With multiple keystone wards, the system can be broken down into smaller, independent organizations. This gives the system more redundancy and resilience in the face of attack by making it harder for enemies to target a specific target. The tradeoff, however, is that maintenance is more difficult as you have many more pieces that can break down and more complex interactions, so most wizards don't bother with such a system."
"If there are multiple keystone wards," Weasley interjected. "then we will need to attack all of them to bring the wards down, but we don't know how many of them there are. Taking them out one-by-one will take too long, and we don't know the layout so a simultaneous overload is near impossible. Furthermore, if even one is missed, it will continue to power its specific set of wards, and given the Lestranges know the layout far better than we do, they'll retain the advantage despite our numbers."
Creasing his forehead in concentration, Dumbledore knelt down and touched the ground with his hand, like a doctor feeling a pulse. After taking a few deep breaths, he opened his eyes and said "Alastor, Severus, get everyone in position and prepare to attack on my signal. Arthur, Elphias, you stay with me. I have a plan."
-Line Break-
'What are you planning now Albus?' Moody wondered as he prepared himself for the assault. 'Why do you insist on keeping things from us? Why won't you talk to us? Is it the war? The betrayals? Merlin's beard, who am I to talk?'
Keeping his head low, his magic eye providing all the necessary visual input, Moody made his way to his assigned position. Due to his artificial leg, he was, for the time being, denied front-line duty. Instead, he was given a support position on the north ridge, watching as Lupin and a team of Aurors prepared for battle.
'Brave souls, the lot of them.' Moody thought as he arrived at his position and pulled out a small mirror. "Albus, I'm ready." he whispered, barely audible. Catching a thumbs-up from Lupin, he responded in kind, affirming his readiness. 'Hope they make it through the night.'
Meanwhile, Dumbledore, Weasley, and Doge, in accordance with the plan, had maneuvered themselves to the north by northwest side of the manor. Once in position, they planted themselves, knees bent, legs shoulder length apart, and began breathing deeply. As they exhaled, Dumbledore, pointing his wand at Doge and Weasley, intoned "Magicae translatio.", drawing powerful magic up his legs and spine to his wand, a golden light flowing from the tip.
Weasley and Doge, hearing Dumbledore's spell, pointed their wands outward and said "Confirma sociis nostris.", their wands and hands glowing gold with immense magic.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, Moody felt a small warmth course through his body. Shortly afterward, he heard a single command from the mirror: "Begin".
Raising his wand, Moody fired red sparks into the sky, and the battle began.
Lupin took aim and fired a hex at the Manor. It hit a transparent shield that glowed gold upon impact but inflicted no damage. Seeing an incoming green flash, he ducked just as it flew over him. Shifting his position behind the ridge, Lupin cast another spell, and again did no damage. As the defenders retaliated, an Auror to the east of Lupin stood and fired a black hex, highlighting the shield and drawing fire from the defenders.
Seeing his chance, Lupin launched himself forward and landed behind a small bush. Thankfully, the defender did not notice and kept battling the eastern attacker. Taking advantage of the distraction, a second Auror flung out of hiding and slid down to Lupin.
Unfortunately, the defender noticed the movement, for a third attempted the same maneuver and was hit with a flash of green. Struck in mid-air, she collapsed onto her stomach, her eyes wide and blank with death.
Furious, Moody launched a barrage of curses at the Manor, giving Lupin and the first Auror their chance to move forward again. Taking different directions, Lupin ducked behind a rock while the Auror crawled into a small depression in the ground. Unfortunately his black robe stood out against the green background, making him perfect target practice, as a rushing green flash honed in on him.
Moving quickly, Moody cast a Banishing charm, launching the Auror from his ill-chosen hiding place until he landed behind a small tree. As the Auror was in mid-air, Moody cast a Disillusionment charm, transforming the Auror's clothes, skin, and hair until they perfectly matched his surroundings. Thankfully, the defender lost sight of his targets and fell silent.
This lethal game continued until Lupin and the Auror reached the outer limits of the Manor's defensive wards. By this point, however, they began to dig in, forming a temporary ridge as they waited for the next phase of the attack.
The defenders, seeing the progress being made, intensified their attacks: hexes, curses, and jinxes flying swiftly and furiously from all directions, lighting up the night-sky like a Christmas tree. There was a silver lining though: the shield seemed to get smaller with each consecutive attack, indicating the wards were losing strength, though not nearly as fast as Moody would like. For every step forward they least one ally had fallen, dead, injured, or, at best, incapacitated.
'Come on Albus, hurry.' Moody pleaded.
Evidently Dumbledore, who was now sweating from his exertions, heard him and nodded to his partners. With a final exhale, they pointed their wands at the ground and yelled "Dabo terram hanc magicae!".
As the spell took effect, the massive store of magic they had absorbed from the Ley lines was suddenly transmitted back into it, triggering a minor earthquake. Then, the shield surrounding the Manor began to glow, slowly but surely becoming brighter and brighter, until it shined like the sun. Fearing what was coming, Moody and everyone able summoned their strongest shield wards around themselves.
Soon after, the shield exploded, blowing out the windows, shaking the earth beneath them, and showering them with shards and intense heat, with only their shield wards saving them.
Slightly winded, Moody shook himself clean and looked to the Manor, and found it dark, forbidding, lifeless, quite the contrast from mere seconds ago. A quick diagnostic spell revealed that the wards had collapsed from being overloaded, and a thorough scan with his eye showed the defender previously fighting them was lying on the floor, though whether he was dead or just unconscious Moody could not know.
Getting to his feet, Moody once again fired red sparks into the night sky, signaling an all-out attack. Those still able to move charged at the Manor, making sure to bob and weave across the grounds. Those who couldn't provided cover by transfiguring plants and rocks into lions, tigers, bears, and other animals while Compulsion charms drove them into battle.
Invigorated at the turning tide, Moody moved with astounding speed and agility given his artificial leg. As he neared the house, the sounds of battle renewed with curses, screams, and explosions reverberating through the dark halls. A voice, female by the sound of it, was shrieking at the top of her lungs: "FILTH! ANIMALS! MUDBLOODS! HOW DARE YOU DEFILE MY HOUSE?!"
Recognizing the voice as Bellatrix's, Moody ran toward it, eager to take her down. A Death Eater ran toward him, but Moody easily, almost casually stunned him, dropping the man like a log without once breaking his stride.
Turning the corner he saw Bellatrix writhing and twisting like a black-clad snake, casting curses and jinxes in quick succession against her attackers. Most of them had taken cover at the far end of the hall, but some were either slow or just unlucky, their bodies splayed out between their comrades and their murderer.
Seeing his chance, Moody raised his wand and cast "Stupefy", hitting her square in the back. Bellatrix collapsed in a heap like a rag doll. Reflexively, Moody commanded "Accio", summoning her wand to his waiting hand.
Seeing her stunned and disarmed, the Aurors at the far end emerged from cover and bound her in magic-suppressing chains. Confident that they had the situation at hand, Moody peered out into the adjacent floors and halls. Thankfully most of them were void of fighting, save a stubborn lone defender, a dark-browned haired woman hiding behind a table for cover. Just as Moody raised his wand, she was crushed against the wall when the table flew into her. Seeing the coast was clear, Moody made his way deeper into the Manor, determined to end this once and for all.
-Line Break-
An hour or so later, Dumbledore watched the last Death Eater die as a falling statue impaled him in the chest, his shrieks dissolving into gurgles before trailing off into silence. Scanning the room briefly, he noticed the sunrise beginning to crack over the horizon.
'Did it really last that long?' Dumbledore thought bewildered. 'Mysterious thing time.' he pondered as he exited the room and made his way down the hall.
Despite being physically and magically exhaustion, Dumbledore made sure to visit each of the survivors, offering help whenever he could, usually to cure curses or heal wounds. As he made his rounds, he couldn't help but notice their missing comrades. Out of the original seventy allies they had started with, they had lost nine Aurors, twelve Order members, fifteen werewolves, and two vampires. The Death Eaters, originally twenty-two, now only numbered nine, all in Auror custody.
'Defeat was inevitable for the Death Eaters, but they definitely made us pay for it.' he mused mournfully.
'Well, at least this nightmare is over.' he thought as he sat down for a rest. 'Hopefully, we can put this all behind us.'
His eyelids feeling heavy from fatigue, Dumbledore struggled to stay awake until he heard a voice say "Go ahead and rest. You more than deserve it.". Recognizing Moody's gruff, all-business tone, Dumbledore gave in and fell over onto the carpeted floor, falling asleep almost instantly.
'Now I'm a babysitter.' Moody thought playfully, as a smile crept across his features.
-Line Break-
Massaging his temples in an effort to alleviate his splitting headache, Dumbledore entered the Order's meeting hall. Over the past few months, he had been far busier than usual. While the raids on the Death Eater safe houses had neutralized Voldemort's inner circle, taking out their best fighters and leaders, his full force was considerably larger: hundreds of witches and wizards, werewolves, Dementors, Giants, and all manner of Dark Creatures, all of which were scattered across Britain and needing to be dealt with.
The Dementors, having feasted on victims by the thousands, refused to reenter Ministry servitude and remained at large for weeks, devouring countless souls. It took the combined efforts of Magical Britain, France, Germany, and Scandinavia to defeat the foul creatures by sealing them inside Azkaban's strongest and most feared dungeon: one deep underground and heavily warded against unauthorized entry. This prison, made entirely of magic-absorbent crystal, and reinforced by diamonds and pure, cold iron, possessed only one entrance which, once all the wards were activated, was the only possible exit. Once inside, the Dementors slowly starved, only to be released when they agreed to resume their former duties as Azkaban's guards.
The werewolves proved equally difficult to defeat. Many had joined Voldemort because of the discrimination caused by their disease. Having been Voldemort's allies, they became acceptable targets for even worse discrimination, so they fought back with ferocity fueled by desperation. The werewolves, organizing themselves into Packs centered around an alpha wolf, fought a guerrilla war against the Ministry for weeks. Taking advantage of their curse, they timed their attacks to fall on the full moon where, energized and empowered by the lunar light, they left dozens dead or wounded in their wake. However, while the werewolves were fueled by rage desperation, the Aurors had far more effective weapons: discipline, training, and logistics. While the Packs' decentralized organization prolonged the conflict, eventually the Aurors defeated the werewolves in full, and in the wake of their rebellion, the Ministry passed ever harsher anti-werewolf legislation. What was once cultural and local prejudice became state-sponsored policy.
'But by far, the Dark Creatures were the worst of them all' Dumbledore reflected, sighing heavily.
The Aurors were primarily trained to fight other wizards rather than Creatures, which required specialized training and equipment. The Ministry, finding very few in Britain with the necessary skills, hired specialist hunters from the Americas. These hunters were originally hired as trainers and advisers, but seeing the havoc wrecked by the Dark Creatures and the growing political backlash, the Ministry hired them as mercenaries. The hunters performed exquisitely well, defeating the Dark Creatures in weeks while suffering only minimal casualties. Seeing their success, the war-weary population hailed them as heroes, though the Purebloods were far less enthusiastic.
Thankfully the Giants were relatively easy to deal with. Despite their great size, strength, and durability, their intelligence was comparatively low and their main motivation was for food and material pleasures. A few grand gestures of magic, along with some considerable gifts of food and treasure, convinced the Giants to leave peacefully for the wild and remote mountains of Russia.
'That was a small mercy. I wished the rest was as easy' Dumbledore thought as he took his seat and waited for the arrival of the others. 'The trials. So many people, so many cases.' While he mused over the last few weeks, he silently summoned a line of goblets filled with firewhiskey, placing them and various desserts on the long table.
Minutes later, his headache subsided and the surviving members gathered around the meeting table, seating themselves. As soon as he felt no one else was coming, Dumbledore flicked his wand and above the table an orb appeared. With a few swishes, the orb transformed into a translucent picture of the infant Longbottom, along with the words "The Boy Who Lived" printed above him.
"Hard to believe what's happened over the past few months." Filius Flitwick, the diminutive Charms Master, said. "I thought You-Know-Who's disappearance would be a time of celebration, but instead we got a major headache, and heartache."
"Well he did have a considerable army at his disposal." Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts' Transfiguration Professor, replied. "I'm just glad that it is indeed over, even if it is at such a price." her voice trembled with the last sentence.
"I know." Remus Lupin said. Raising his goblet he toasted "To old friends!"
"And new peace." Dumbledore added, and, with a clink of glass, they toasted the end of the war.
"And the Boy Who Lived" a second voice, Doge, added before polishing off his firewhiskey.
"I look forward to teaching him." McGonagall said. "His parents were excellent students of mine."
"I hope he's alright." Moody said. "I'd hate to imagine what life will be like under his grandmother. Augusta was a nightmare, especially in the classroom when I..." he paused, shuddering at the memory.
"I think he'll be in good hands." Dumbledore reassured him. "I know she can be strict and has...high expectations but she loves him and will care for him like her own. I just hope that will be enough given..."
"Don't worry Albus." McGonagall reassured. "He'll have us, the Order, as well as the Aurors looking out for him. And if all else fails we can arrange some private lessons."
"So with all of us pitching in, he'll turn out to be a fine wizard like his parents." Moody said. "I remember the stag party we gave Frank the night before. Remember that?"
"Oh yes" Lupin replied. "We all got drunk and played that King game. I remembered when Sirius was the King: he made us waltz in fashionable dress...from the sixteenth century, while singing in falsetto."
"James was a terror too." Moody answered, smiling. "His first time he made us do the hula in grass skirts and coconut tops. His second had him poured ice water down our pants while we thanked him for the privilege. On his last time, he made us do the teapot dance."
"We always paid them back though." Lupin chuckled. "The belly dancing, the brotherly kissing...for one full minute, and the maid cosplay. I still think they cheated because they were King 4 times in a row once."
Soon after, others began adding their own stories regarding the Longbottoms: some funny, like the last days of school, and the baby showers; some heartwarming, like the birth of their children, and their wedding days; others heartbreaking, like the war, and their fallen comrades.
A few hours later, everyone, full on drink, cake, and candy, left for home save Dumbledore and Lupin. As the night went on, Lupin had become increasingly melancholic, only speaking when spoken to, and then only in short sentences.
"What's wrong Remus?" Dumbledore asked, knowing well what was wrong.
"It's Harry." Lupin answered. "I know we're supposed to celebrate the end of the war but...I can't help but think of the lives lost, including my best friends, and the closest thing I had to a son."
Understanding Lupin's feelings entirely, Dumbledore nodded solemnly. Then, hesitantly, he placed a hand on Lupin's shoulder and said "Actually, I wanted to have a private talk with you about that.".
Looking up, Lupin, his eyes flushed from tears, asked "What is there to talk about?".
"Do you recognize this?" Dumbledore asked as he pulled a small pocket watch from his robes. Opening it, three hands with names labeled on them appeared: "James", "Lily", and "Harry". Around the watch's face, it showed not time but states of being such as "transit", "home", and "work". The hands labeled "James" and "Lily" were square on "dead".
On closer inspection though, Lupin realized that the hand labeled "Harry" was on "unknown but alive".
Eyes widening he jumped up and grabbed the watch, holding it to his eye, thinking a closer look would reveal some trick.
"How long have you known?!" he asked, slightly growling.
"For a few weeks Remus." Dumbledore answered. "As for why I didn't tell anyone, I simply didn't have the opportunity to do so. You remember the last few weeks. Also, I couldn't be sure if this was accurate. Countless tests have proven it is indeed accurate. Harry is alive."
Vibrating with excitement, Lupin, looking Dumbledore square in the eye, asked "Where is he?!".
"I don't know." Dumbledore replied. "That is what I want to talk to you about. The Order is disbanding. We are all going back to civilian life, so we won't have any time or energy to spare for a long search."
"But I do" Lupin interjected, realization dawning on him. "Because of the anti-werewolf hype, I won't HAVE a civilian life to go back to...so I can focus entirely on the search."
"I am prepared to fund your search from my own back account Remus." Dumbledore said, raising a hand to waylay Lupin's reply. "I know you don't like charity, but consider it payment for your trouble, and my failure."
Momentarily silent, Lupin nodded and said "I'll start in the morning and, by Merlin, I won't stop until I find him."
"Good luck my friend." Dumbledore said. "Sleep well." he added as he watched Lupin head for the guest room.
-Line Break-
Author's Notes: A little on the spelling of the spells (no pun intended): I used a simple Google Translate to change between English and Latin. I am by no means an expert on Latin, and I switched between the two considerably to get the translation to what I wanted because I found some that were not at all what I had in mind. I'll provide the spells and the translations I used, or at least aimed for below.
"Magicae translatio." Transfer Magic
"Confirma sociis nostris." Strengthen our Companions
"Dabo terram hanc magicae!" I Give Magic to the Earth
If you have ideas to improve my spells, please review.