Chapter 100: Be Prepared
Chelsea sprinted down the hallway, looking over her shoulders for her pursuers. She just barely escaped but she knew Red and Johnny were both down. She was just hoping to link up with the rest of the squad.
Chelsea flicked her hair out of her eyes and slowed herself, working to control her breathing even while sweat poured down her face. At the end of the hallway, she turned right into the light of three other wands.
"Hands up!" A voice she recognized as Sally said. "What do you all call me?"
"Spacey because of who you share your name with," Chelsea said. Sally dropped her wand and the others followed suit.
"Report," Doris asked.
"Red and Johnny are down," Chelsea said. "No idea how many wands we're facing. I've still never seen them."
"Slytherin Protocol then," Penny said and three of them tapped their heads to disillusion themselves. "Let's go get them."
Before they even moved, what felt like a cannonball hit the center of their formation, throwing smoke and debris everywhere. All five were thrown off their feet and before they could gather themselves, they were all disarmed, bound and hanging from the ceiling.
"You're all dead," A gruff voice echoed as the figure in the center as Mad-Eye Moody dropped his own disillusionment spell. "You got cute and now you got dead. Though I give you credit, you lasted the longest of your squad. You made a plan but then you hesitated. You thought your numbers were good enough and you relaxed. The moment you relax is the moment you are dead."
Moody glared at the five who were suspended. He slammed his staff to the ground and the other five slid across the floor and Moody unceremoniously dropped everyone down to the floor.
"Or worse, you could be imprisoned," Moody said. "Your cute tricks are good for busting slags and thieves in Knockturn but they'll do nothing in a real battle. There are better ways to use your numbers."
"How?" Jo Rosenburg's muffled voice echoed from the floor, her face hidden by her curly hair. "What's the best way to use our numbers?"
"If you haven't already figured that out, I'm not gonna bloody tell ya," Moody said. "You're gonna figure that out before you ever set foot in the field for real, you hear? As you are now, I could easily take you down. You could all be Imperiused, tortured, raped, blackmailed, sold or all of the above."
"Including the males?" Red asked.
"Especially the males!" Moody shouted. "Whatever I wanted, I would get and there isn't a damn thing you could do about it."
"You could at least tell us where the others were," Steven whined. "There's no point in them hiding."
"There weren't any others," Moody said as a shiver ran through the squad. "You think I need any help? There's a reason I'm still alive. I've taken down groups twice your size in half the time. It was me all by my lonesome and I was going easy."
"Impossible!" Reagan shouted.
"Believe it, lass," Moody said. "I've been hunting dark lords my entire life. It cost me my eye, my leg and many, many friends. Black asked me to do a demonstration so I could size you up. Right now, I am not impressed. For the rest of this month, you will be facing me and me alone. I'll let you know when you've graduated."
"Why are you doing this to us?" Chelsea asked. "We've been kicked around for a whole year and just when we thought we were ready, you kicked us back down into the dirt."
"That's the point!" Moody shouted and pulled off his glove to show off his gnarled hand with two fingertips missing. "You've gotten cocky. You can beat one another? Big fucking deal. I'll admit your teamwork isn't all that poor but the moment you think you're ready is the moment you are ready to die. I've lost too many friends, and we've lost too many Aurors because they thought they were ready. Tell me, do any of you feel ready now?"
The squad all murmured from the floor.
"I asked a question!"
"No sir!" The squad answered.
"Excellent," Moody said, vanishing their binds to let them stand up. "Now we can get to work."
"Though Chelsea does ask a good question," Penny said, paling a little at the glare Moody gave her. "Why this ramp-up in training?"
"Because you need to be ready," Sirius said as he dropped his disillusionment charm as did Kingsley and Tonks. "By now I am sure you have read all the articles in The Daily Prophet. If you're anywhere near the intelligent group I believe you to be, you will notice the holes in the story. If any of you found a copy of The Quibbler, you will have the story but just in case I will make it plain: Lord Voldemort has returned.
Everyone in the squad flinched.
"Get over that right now," Sirius instructed. "Voldemort is a powerful wizard but he is a man and you all know the Taboo was repealed years ago. Get used to saying his name. Show him and his cadre of despicable followers no fear because if you fear them, they've already won.
"My godson, Harry Potter, did indeed fight him. I won't go into specifics on how he survived but he did thanks to a set of extraordinary and unrepeatable circumstances. Unfortunately, Cedric Diggory was not so lucky. I know you all knew him. You know how bright he was but he died. Howarts' best student. Dead. I don't want the same for you all.
"That's what Mad-Eye is here for," Sirius said. "You have learned everything in the book about how to take down criminals and conduct raids. You have no idea how to fight a war; how to survive when it's either you or the other guy. Death Eaters do not maim, they do not show mercy. They either kill you or do things that make you wish you were dead."
"I am here to keep you alive," Moody said. "If anyone has a problem with that, feel free to walk away now. Then again, you might as well walk down to the Department of Mysteries and into the Veil of Death because that's what we're all facing. You've become good Auror trainees but that's just the beginning. I want you all to survive this so you can have lovers, families, kids, grandkids. One day far in the future, long after I am gone, I want you to sit your grandkids on your knee one day and tell them how you went toe-to-toe with the worst Lord Voldemort could throw at you and you lived.
"I want you to wipe the smirks off those bigots' faces when they realize they're not facing training dummies. You will cast faster, harder. You will add more variety and lethality to your spells. Next time I catch you casting a stunner at a Death Eater- and believe you me, that's what I'll be during this training- I will kill you myself.
"Every other day, I will train you harder and push your limits even beyond what you think you can do. Once I push you to your limits, I will push even harder."
"Only every other day?" Penny asked. "You say this is of paramount importance and yet you only train us every other day? Why?"
"Because I'm not just training you lot," Moody said. "The other days, I will be elsewhere. I cannot say where but know that you're not the only ones I am about to train. Fortunately for you, you've all built up stamina beforehand. Trust me when I say you're getting the easy end of the stick."
"Everyone take the weekend to relax," Sirius said. "On Monday, the other four training squads will join you for the next phase of your training. Before you leave, you will pick up a folder that has all the case files and reports from the last war. Through those, you will familiarize yourself with the tactics of the Death Eaters. You will also learn about Voldemort's top lieutenants- the ones who are still alive anyway- and what spells and tactics they favor. I recommend reading it before meals, not after."
Meanwhile, back at Malfoy Manner, the same Lord Voldemort sat in the dining room rolling his wand in his fingers. Around the table, what remained of his force sat and waited for their master to speak. The Lestranges, Crabbe Sr, Dolohov, Rookwood, Muliber and Travers sat in a cell in Azkaban. With Rosier, Lucius, Goyle Sr., Parkinson, Yaxley all dead his ranks were especially thin at the top and with Fenrir eliminated, he didn't even have werewolves to call upon. Karkaroff was a lost cause and he had no idea what to make of Severus' absence. Severus would show up at some point but his motives remained unknown. He called three times with no answer. Surely Dumbledore's pet would have come running, ready to spy on him again, useless though his information would be. He knew there were more Death Eaters captured and/or killed but he could not bring himself to worry about those whose names he could not remember. More than ever, however, he needed bodies.
"Report," Voldemort said without looking up from his wand.
"We bribed an Unspeakable," Alecto Carrow said. "He told me the prophecy was removed a while ago. It is either with Potter or destroyed."
"I depart for Switzerland tomorrow," Macnair said. "We will reach out to the giants. Though, thanks to the French being alerted, we will have to go the long way. They won't be available until next Spring at the earliest."
"Recruitment is up," Nott said. "We've found allies around the nation, including a few that have a special grudge against Potter and his group. We've started working our way into the ministry though we have to move slowly since the Bones bitch is sniffing around the place for any sign of infiltration."
"Keep it up," Voldemort said. "First things first, we must send a message to the French to stay out of our affairs. Once we deal with this island, they will be next. Nott… take your recruits and make a statement. I don't care how but make it big.
"As for the prophecy, it doesn't matter," Voldemort said. "Potter is not the Chosen One, no matter what those feeble-minded fools say to cling to some hope. I will not be deterred, I will not be defeated and one day, we will rule this land to bring back magic to its truest roots. We will burn the muggles out of their homes and make them bow to their lords.
"But before that, we need to move slowly, cautiously. Macnair, once you make contact with the Giants, I want you to come back. We have a lot of friends who are waiting to join us. Nott, I need more recruits so we can free them, understood? I also need spies and assets within earshot of the old fool. I need some presence in that place. Once we build our numbers and restore the faithful to their proper place, we can deal with Dumbledore's insipid idealism at the root. Uproot that entire tree and burn it to the ground.
"Wormtail!" the rat flinched at his name. "You will depart at once. Tell no one of your mission. Move slowly, use the benefits of your form to the fullest extent. We cannot have our enemies know."
"Everyone dismissed," Voldemort. "Go out and remind every man, woman and child who would oppose us that they oppose magic itself. And as you all well know, Magic is Might. But first, we must send a message."
As the group filed out, Voldemort remained perfectly still, his hands still twirling his wand.
"My Lord," one of the recent recruits announced himself. "We captured someone at the gates. He said he is here to see you.
"Bring him to me," Voldemort narrowed his already narrow eyes until they were little more than slits. Three recruits dumped a man with black hair into the dining room-turned-conference room. Voldemort waited for the man to pick himself up and once he got his feet underneath him, Voldemort hit him with a cruciatus.
"Severus!" the cold, high voice held no joy for the Potions master. "So you are not a coward like Karkaroff. You decided you wanted to come to your execution rather than have your execution find you."
As the man writhed, Voldemort's thoughts wandered to the same place they had been for the last two weeks. At first, he was impressed and pleased. Potter had been trained well, well enough to take out a few of his lower-level followers, and scored key hits on a few of his upper-level lieutenants. Nowhere close to challenging him but there was potential. Then, their wands locked up, something rarely heard of and seen even less. In all his research of wand lore, he'd heard of Prior Incantantem but the chances Potter shared a core with his were negligible but that did make him ponder the prophecy's full contents. Now, he carried Lucius' wand as a backup for the next time he and Potter met. After that came the bodies of his previous victims, victims who talked to him.
"So you are as evil as you said," the old man said. "Doesn't matter, evil never lasts and neither will you. Die well."
"Hey Tommy!" James Potter's incessant voice cackled at him. "Having trouble? What's that, is my 14-year-old son too much for the Great Lord Voldemort?"
"I told you to leave my son alone," Lily Potter growled. "Now look where you are. You're going to lose. As you did before except this time it'll be permanent. My son will see to that. You hear me, Tom? You are a dead man already. Every breath you draw is a gift. Savor it because soon you will draw no more."
On and on they taunted him and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't silence them, couldn't break the link and nothing was going to stop them from chiding him. Once Potter broke their link, they charged him, trying to shield Potter one last time but Voldemort proved them wrong. He destroyed Potter's means of escape and then hit him with a killing curse. Voldemort smiled at the memory of watching Potter's body collapse, especially since Dumbledore arrived to let his mudblood watch him die. It was too perfect. First Potter and then Dumbledore all in one day.
But it wasn't perfect. Once the curse hit his target, Voldemort felt agony down to his very soul. His magic was erratic. Powerful still but erratic, as if part of his core was crying out in agony. Then, the mudblood taunted him. HIM. She looked him in the eye and told him she and others would fight in Potter's memory and promised him death. Didn't she know it was pointless? He was Lord Voldemort! He was immortal! Right?
He never doubted that statement but then, Dumbledore's pigeon killed his Nagini and with it, one of his anchors was gone and the pain of his magical core doubled. Voldemort put the pieces together. Somehow, Potter had been made into one of his Horcruxes and that's why killing him hurt. He killed a piece of his soul with Potter's. He also saw the look of recognition on Dumbledore's face. The old man knew what the screaming black ooze signified; he knew the Dark Lord's secret. Suddenly, Voldemort felt angry and truly terrified, as if he was exposed and vulnerable. His magic felt wild and untamed as it exploded out of him. When it settled, Potter had his eyes open. Somehow he had returned, not unlike Voldemort. To make matters worse, his power grew when he came back. As Voldemort tried to take Potter's love from him, the boy swatted away the curse as if it was a simple stunner with that accursed lightning whip that James Potter's favored. How Voldemort remembered the sting of that spell and the marks it left.
Inwardly, Voldemort fumed Potter died. He saw it and yet he didn't stay dead. What's worse: Dumbledore knew his secret. He knew the diary was gone- Lucius had seen to that. Now, so was Nagini and now, apparently Potter. The cup was safe as Bella would have seen to that. That just left the ring, the locket and the diadem. Nobody knew of the cave, of that Voldemort was certain. The ring, however, Dumbledore knew his middle name and he would know his lineage but as the graveyard still had Aurors crawling all over it, Voldemort couldn't hope to check on the shack. He had to do it with stealth lest more people know his secret. The shack was probably fine for the time but the diadem had to be moved before Dumbledore or Potter could find it. He needed his trinkets back. He needed to be safe and he needed to eliminate Potter. The boy was the boy of the prophecy, he was certain now.
What was the full prophecy? Voldemort wondered internally. What's so special about Potter?
Casting his attention back to the writhing man.
"Now, Severus," Voldemort placed his wand on the man's temple. "Any last words?"
"Magic is Might," Severus said. "I know you think I am a spy, that I turned against you but it is just the opposite. You often talked about having a spy close to Dumbledore. I am that spy. I can give you intel, secrets, plans. A decade's worth of them. Dumbledore trusts me. Talk to anyone about me and they'll tell you. The old fool trusts me to a fault and I offer you that fault to exploit, my lord."
"But I thought he was protecting you," Voldemort sneered. "That he vouched for you to keep you out of prison. I'm sure if you're compromised he will not vouch for you again."
"He is a fool," Snape said. "He has stood behind Potter as Potter manipulated Fudge to free Black. Black, the same man who condemned me to die a gruesome death at the hands of his supposed friend. Black, the same boy who tortured me in school. Dumbledore stood back and let Potter run the school. He even threatened me with prison should I try to curb Potter's more dangerous proclivities. Ever since then, I have bided my time. Until you returned or I could eliminate him. Preferably both at once. Then and only then will I be able to stop pretending. I can be my true self."
"An interesting story," Voldemort swiped his wand and Snape lifted off the floor to make their eyes level with one another. "Let's see if you are telling the truth."
Voldemort entered the man's mind, quickly moving from the memory where Dumbledore threatened Snape with prison should he try to read Harry's mind again. After that, it was Sirius Black striding into the Great Hall like he owned the place and ended with Snape snapping the fork he was holding.
"So you speak true," Voldemort said. "But that does not explain why you are late."
"I stayed in the castle until Dumbledore released me to come to find you," Snape said. "A few days and I was able to keep my cover with him and my position within the castle. I assume you'll be recruiting?"
"We will," Voldemort said. "However, that will not be for you. No, you will be helping in another way. First, your storeroom is now mine and all the Galleons you have in your vault are now mine as well. We have a lot of potions to brew and you will brew them all. You will do them perfectly or you will die. Second, you will pass me any information immediately. Know that your information will be checked and if any of it comes back faulty… well there are plenty of competent brewers out there. Now get out of my sight. Go back to that castle from whence you came and await my instructions. From this moment on, your life is forfeit. How you operate will decide whether or not I give it back to you."
"Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord," Snape bowed. "One thing you must know: there is friction between Dumbledore and Potter. I am not sure of the specifics but the boy does not trust the old man."
"Then he is smarter than I give him credit," Voldemort said. "Straying too close to Dumbledore is to be placed on his chess board. Albus, I know. I know every move he'll make and how to counter it. Why even you coming here, I had him sending you. Wasn't even off on the day. No, Potter will be the one to watch. From your memories, it is clear he has assembled quite the list of allies. The boy is cunning… clever."
"Oh don't look like that, Severus," Voldemort chided. "Whatever your bias against his father, you have to admit James Potter was clever and you no doubt remember his mother, yes? Yes, Harry Potter is the final piece. Once we take him out, the rest of the Wizarding World will crumble. Perform well enough and you might live to see it."
Voldemort cast again with his wand and the man slid out the door. As Snape shakily stood, Theo Nott Jr. approached.
"My lord," the younger Nott bowed. "I did as you asked."
"Good, Nott," Voldemort smiled. "Bring him to me."
Nott stepped to the side and two hooded members escorted Draco in. They placed the boy in one of the chairs and then left, closing the doors behind them as they exited.
"Hello, Draco," Voldemort greeted him. "You've grown up. Last I saw you; you were just a baby."
Draco attempted to move before chains of smoke turned to steel, trapping him in his seat.
"Why in such a hurry?" Voldemort asked rhetorically. "After all, it is summer break. You don't have anywhere to be until September. And we have many things to talk about."
Draco's eyes widened as Voldemort started to speak and it was only Voldemort's silencing charm that kept him quiet.
(A/N: So something that's rolling through my brain and I am struggling with it. Is the Boy Who Lived hyphenated or not? I've seen it both ways and I can't figure out which way it should be.
Thank you for all your comments and especially those of you who catch some continuity errors like Harry forgetting he had met Charlie and Bill and vice versa. That has been updated as appropriate.)
