Warning: as you might imagine from what came before, there will be character death in this chapter.
On 26 March, 1979, at twenty minutes before midnight, most of the Dark detectors in the auror department at the Ministry for Magic in London simultaneously activated, for the second time in two days. The reason for the activation was nearly identical, a huge release of Dark magic in a ritual to create Inferi. The difference was that this time, the ritual happened significantly farther away. This time, there were two killers. This time, there were just two victims, both of them magical. This time, only one person was left on the whole second floor of the Ministry to hear the alarm. They quietly closed their office door, and waited. After a few minutes, the wave of magic passed by. The floor was silent again, until a glorious silver Patronus sailed through the walls with a message, a message the individual in the office had been patiently waiting for all evening.
At twelve minutes before midnight, the seven hundred thirty-three Inferi remaining in the River Thames rushed the fire barriers along the banks at a dozen places. They overwhelmed the aurors minding the choke points, who retreated inexorably before the tide of the undead. Even the Prewett twins channeling their magic together could not hold a firestorm spell strong enough to prevent dozens of Inferi from escaping around them, into the arms of a great wall of muggle infantry, currently armed with flame throwers and grenades.
At midnight, the unmistakable, utterly magnificent dragon patronus of Bartemius Crouch Sr. flew over the melee, stopping right before Alastor Moody. It opened its mouth and said in a clear, calm voice that nevertheless carried far over the water, "My home is under attack by Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. If I do not survive, I nominate you, Alastor Moody, to succeed me as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Message also to be sent to Minister Minchum, Undersecretary Bagnold, and Albus Dumbledore..." The silver creature melted into smoke.
"Dear Merlin... you were right, Alastor," Rufus said bleakly beside him.
"Sonorus. THIS IS ALASTOR MOODY. HALO, HARKEN, HAPSBURG, HARBINGER, HOOLIGAN, HOBOE. DEATH EATERS AND YOU-KNOW-WHO SIGHTED AT CROUCH MANOR! ALL AURORS REPORT TO CROUCH MANOR IMMEDIATELY! GENERAL FITZWILLIAM JENKINS IS DESIGNATED FIELD COMMANDER AGAINST THE INFERI UNTIL AUROR RETURN! HIT WIZARDS TO REPORT TO GENERAL JENKINS AT MUGGLE COMMAND NORTH FOR ASSIGNMENT! Quietus. Expecto Patronum! Anika, go to General Jenkins, follow his orders, and relay his instructions to the others. There's a squib with him, Arabella Figg, who has my absolute trust. If Jenkins does or requests anything you disagree with, ask Arabella to confirm it. If Arabella asks you to overpower Jenkins, do it."
"A squib?" Rufus asked incredulously.
"What else? Even muggleborns don't understand muggle politics and military culture, once they've left that world. The right squibs do. Now move, Rufus!"
They both disapparated.
Sirius had never been to the Crouch manor before, which was odd in retrospect, considering how close Barty Jr. was in age to Sirius and Regulus, and the fact that his cousin twice-removed Charis Black had been Barty Jr.'s grandmother. Blacks were usually quite clannish, and Charis had only died four years ago. The manor grounds, hidden of course from the local muggles, spanned a good chunk of Foulness Island, the final habitable island in the Crouch River delta as it approached the North Sea. The Death Eaters approached from the seaward side, apparating into the long, sandy flats of low tide where there were no wards, and the sound of the waves would mask their approach in the black night. As they reached the end of the flats, Voldemort raised a hand to stop them all at what he must have sensed to be the edge of the outermost ward. He gestured to Bella and Dolohov, standing to either side, and the three of them began a complex group working.
Sirius watched Bella and shivered. He could feel the Dark magic rolling off her, and Dolohov. It was the magic they had harvested from their muggleborn Inferi sacrifices. He wondered if others could sense the same aura coming from him. Maybe not, since all his victims yesterday had been muggles, but then, there were nine of them. Sirius had never quite understood why his parents and other purebloods in their circle despised muggleborns. He had always dismissed the various explanations of diluting magic or stealing magic from its rightful owners as obvious propaganda based in pure lies once he was old enough to start questioning authority. And he still believed that, but now for the first time, he thought he understood the fear. As Voldemort had said to him several weeks ago, the Inferi ritual was so simple in its setup, a child could do it, if you could find a child who would do it. Personally, Sirius was pretty sure a child attempting the ritual would have their mind torn apart and end up insane, dead and/or an Inferius themselves, but in theory, Voldemort wasn't wrong. And if one was deep enough in the Dark Arts to realize it was indeed possible to steal magic from someone else using something like the Inferi ritual, and simultaneously believed magic could only be natural-born in those with wizarding or squib ancestry... then a true muggleborn was a terrifying concept indeed. A true muggleborn would be a child who gained their magic not through right of blood, but sick and twisted blood rites. Repeatedly. Perhaps, Sirius mused, that was one reason Voldemort himself had not created any Inferi for this operation. He had no doubt the Dark Lord had performed the ritual at some point, or he would not have been so effective a teacher. But publicly contrasting his magic to Bella's Inferi-augmented magic was as good a demonstration as any of the power inherent to his blood and therefore in the minds of the followers who cared the most about such things, proof of its purity.
Sirius' thoughts were interrupted when Voldemort, Bella, and Dolohov unleashed their coordinated attack on the manor's wards. The spell looked like a huge drill made of white light. When it struck the ward, the whole dome around the grounds illuminated, flickered, and after a tense half minute went out. And then a second dome lit up, this time glowing faintly red before going out. And then a third. The breaching spell just kept punching through each protective ward one after another. Sirius' attention was caught by a bolt of silver flashing away through the back of the house.
"Patronus!" Rodolphus called, seeing it as well. He raised anti-apparition, anti-portkey, and anti-floo wards to enclose the house and grounds, two other Death Eaters helping him.
Voldemort growled in ire and snapped his wand up and down. His growl turned to a cry of wrathful triumph when one last domed ward flickered gold and went out. The spell-drill shot forwards and slammed into the side of the house, partially collapsing the stone wall. "Antonin, help Rodolphus block their escape! Everyone else, forward!"
Dolohov dutifully reinforced Rodolphus' wards. Bella ran head-first into a new Impervious shield that had just popped up out of the ground. She screamed and slashed her wand through it, destroying the barrier, only to hit another one two steps closer to the house. She brought that one down and encountered yet another. Whoever was in the house, they were damn good at raising shields, Sirius thought.
Voldemort clearly thought so too. "Rodolphus, alternate with Bella to take those down. We will devour the ground foot by -"
"Enemy incoming! Behind us!" Dolohov interrupted.
Sirius dropped into a crouch and at the same time turned towards the new threat. He couldn't even see the aurors, or Order members, whoever it was. He could only see the spell lights flashing across the sand flats. He could see that one of Dolohov's backup was down, presumably hit by a stunner before anyone had even noticed the newcomers. There seemed to only be two or three of them at first, but more people were clearly apparating in beyond the perimeter of the ward, with more spells coming from new directions. Half the Death Eaters turned to fight against the new threat, while Bella and Rodolphus continued their assault on the house, three other Death Eaters covering their backs.
Homenum Revelio, Sirius cast. He bit back a grin. There were already a dozen aurors/Order members fanned out, and more would be coming every minute as they figured out where exactly the battle was. Still crouching in a bush for cover, he reached for the slippery thread of the Imperius curse he had cast on Evan Rosier when the man visited the Averys for dinner last week. He snapped the curse leash taut. At the same time, someone else had the presence of mind to cast several Lumos Maxima charms out towards the sea, the spell balls acting as false moons to give at least a little light to the hectic battlefield. Of course, the light also served as a beacon telling any aurors who had apparated to the other side of the island where exactly the battle was. Six more people appeared on the salt flats and started casting hexes at the Death Eaters. One of them might have been Dumbledore, judging by the fearsome globe of white flame that appeared and zoomed straight towards Voldemort. The Dark Lord shrieked out a Greek curse in rage. The fireball splintered in midair, bits of it spinning off towards various other targets.
But that part of the battle was not Sirius' concern. About ten feet away from him, Rosier suddenly reared up from his position behind a hedge, turned into the ranks of his fellow Death Eaters, and cast a nonverbal Confringo directly into their midst. Sirius ducked under the curse with a shield held tight around himself. He was still knocked off his feet, though in his case it was backwards to collide with Rosier. His Imperius command was for Rosier to attack any Death Eater viciously and without mercy, and that included attacking Sirius himself with anything short of the Avada. Otherwise, it would have looked too suspicious. Rosier therefore was quick to throw Sirius off him and aim an entrails-expelling curse his way. Sirius conjured a flamingo to take that curse for him, wincing at the unsuspecting bird's strangled squawking before it quickly died. He continued trading spells with Rosier, content the Order would be sufficiently confused at the sight of two Death Eaters fighting each other not to intervene right away when they had more pressing threats to deal with. He took the opportunity afforded by a rolling dodge to assess the damage Rosier had done and was savagely pleased to see at least five Death Eaters still motionless on the ground, two of the bodies so thoroughly rent apart by the blasting curse, they were assuredly dead.
"No! Daddy!" Bella's screech startled him, enough so that Rosier's next curse actually connected with his left hand as he dodged a little too late. It was a flesh-eating curse, and rather than lose his fingers again, he hastily sent a Reductor curse Rosier's way and transfigured two of his fingers into sticks. Against his better judgment, he looked around for Uncle Cygnus too. He was wearing a mask of course, but Bella had recognized him... and now so did Sirius. Or at least, Sirius recognized the ring on his severed arm in the middle of Rosier's blasting field.
Sirius... honestly wasn't sure how he felt about possibly having murdered his own uncle just now. He ducked under Rosier's next curse. He aimed a flurry of Avadas at Rosier, who dodged.
Across the battlefield, Bella screamed again, and now her and Rodolphus' voices were also shouting dueling curses, attention stripped from the wards on the house. Sirius risked a glance and was rather surprised to see them battling another Death Eater, presumably one of Mulciber's Imperius-cursed ones. And then another Death Eater started casting stunning charms against his fellows, and not even at Bella. Sirius had no idea who that was, or who was presumably controlling them. Maybe Moody was adding to the chaos.
"Enough!" Voldemort roared. "Protego Diabolica!" A wall of deep blue fire flew up around the Dark Lord and fanned outwards from him in a concentric ring. The spell was like the mutant child of a shield charm and Fiendfyre. It would incinerate any of Voldemort's enemies who came into contact with it, and yet could be dismissed with a massed Finite Incantatum. Of course, as with Fiendfyre, this became more difficult the longer it burned and more it fed. Aurors and plain-clothes Order members retreated away from it, then started casting countercharms at it from a safer distance. Voldemort himself vanished into a column of smoke that darted across the field of engagement like an evil, blackened ghost. Sirius had never heard of such a thing in any of the horrible books he had read in the last year. It was as if the Dark Lord had transformed his very body into raw magic, held together with nothing but the force of his will and the bare shred of soul he still contained.
He didn't have long to think about the astounding sight, though. It became clear Voldemort was using the distracting peril of his dark shield-fire to issue new orders to his followers. The shadow flew straight through Rosier on its way to Sirius. Rosier fell to his knees, tearing at his chest. When the shadow spoke, it was directly to Sirius' mind, and less words than an impression of a whole battle strategy shoved directly into his brain. Antonin will release his anti-apparition shield. Those incapable of resisting the Imperius that yet remain loyal shall leave immediately. Those who can resist shall kill any who attack us, whether auror or Death Eater. We no longer aim to Imperius. I will continue to hold off the Ministry and the Order. Bella and Antonin will again break the wards on the house. Sirius will draw power from his Inferi in London and as soon as the wards fall, destroy the house and all those therein. Then retreat.
The shadow flitted away again and rematerialized as Voldemort in the middle of the sand flats, where he immediately conjured another globe of fire to send at the aurors' backs, drawing fire away from the Death Eaters.
Sirius stopped watching Voldemort. He turned to Rosier, who was still kneeling with his wand at his side and a haunted expression on his grey face. He tugged on the Imperius connection, forcing Rosier to shakily point his wand at Sirius again. "Avada Kedavra," Sirius said, and watched Rosier pitch forwards, lifeless. He felt a twinge of guilt, but he had never planned on leaving the wizard alive, not when Voldemort would doubtless try to interrogate him with Legilimency. He did not know what all Rosier had done in the war, but he had a Mark on his arm and a place on the Inner Circle. There was no doubt in Sirius' mind he had done something nasty to earn them.
Now the bigger question. His Homenum Revelio charm was still active. He could see four people inside the manor. So... should he obey the Dark Lord and kill all of them? On the one hand, that was obviously a terrible thing to do. On the other, he knew Mr. Crouch wasn't there. Portrait Moody had told him at their final furtive planning meeting four days ago that he wouldn't be. But Mrs. Crouch probably was, along with three other innocents. Of course, Sirius had killed plenty of innocents to gain and retain his position in the Inner Circle. Dumbledore and Moody had even assured him it was necessary and absolved him, sort of. Four more rather paled in significance to the tally he had already compiled. If he disobeyed now, there would be no place for him with the Death Eaters. Whether or not Voldemort realized he was a spy all along or thought he had just made a mistake, Sirius would be dead either way if he were blamed for this mission's failure.
Bella and Dolohov recast the ward-breaching spell drill they had started the night with. It wasn't quite as brilliant as it had been before, but then, it didn't need to be. They had already breached the strongest defenses. The spell crashed through every ward the house's inhabitants now frantically conjured within seconds. Inevitably, it would reach the walls again.
Sirius made up his mind. He pulled on the energy lines tying him to the Inferi in London, sucking the magic back out of the horde through his avatars. He ran towards Bella, legs pounding harder and faster with every step as the vitality of nine young lives surged into him. He reached Bella's side just as the drill spell reached the wall of the house again. He brandished his wand. "Confringo!" He shouted the curse, and channeled more magic into it than he ever had before. If he were merely muggle-baiting with Richard right now, he could have taken down a whole muggle village.
As it was, his spell was what broke through one last ward anchored to the very walls of the building. The house was vaporized. Nothing left alive. Nothing there at all but dust.
"Accio Daddy!" Bella cried.
Sirius felt a hand on his shoulder. He apparated away automatically. As he turned, he saw he was pulling a sobbing Bella with him, Uncle Cygnus' mutilated corpse clutched in her other arm. He hated Bella, of course, but she had always worn her emotions on her face. Inappropriate as they so often were, they were still affecting to watch. Now her shoulders shook, and her grip trembled.
He never apparated directly to back after a mission, habit drilled into him by Lucious Malfoy. This time, he had taken them to the empty and ruined Malfoy Manor grounds. He removed Bella's hand from his shoulder, and then removed her mask. Her eyes were full of tears, her lips twisted in a grimace of agonizing grief. He gently wiped away the tears with his intact hand, wrapped his arms around her and the corpse, and took them the rest of the way to headquarters. While most everyone else was already filing inside, unmasked Rodolphus was waiting anxiously by the entrance. "Bella! Bella? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, Dolph," she snarled. Rodolphus tried to take Cygnus' body from her, and she snatched it back. "No! Don't touch him! He is a Black! This is for family only. Come on, Sirius, help me." Sirius met Rodolphus' eyes, silently pleading with him not to argue, and the older wizard just nodded at him tiredly. Accepting his wife's rejection without complaint, Rodolphus conjured a bier for them to lay out Cygnus' body. It was as mess. Besides the severed right arm, broken bones poked out of both legs and chest as well. Sirius could feel them as he manually straightened out the limbs and blood-soaked robes as best he could. When Bella reached to remove the mask, he snatched her hand back.
"Not here," he told her, looking around the court meaningfully. It was empty, but she instantly adopted his feigned suspicion and hunched over her father's body protectively. Mostly, he had just wanted her to calm down a little and lose the rest of her Inferi-augmented power before she saw Cygnus' no doubt pulverized face.
"I need to take him home," Bella muttered.
"We need to report in to the Dark Lord first," Sirius reminded her.
"He will understand," she insisted. Sirius highly doubted that. He glanced up at Rodolphus.
"Bella, you and I should go in to speak with him now, while Sirius keeps watch. And then you can take him home with the Dark Lord's blessing."
"Yes," Sirius agreed instantly. "I won't let anyone touch him." She nodded and allowed Rodolphus to help her to her feet and lead her away. As soon as she was gone, Sirius ripped off the Death Eater mask. It was just as bad as he had expected. Quickly, he used a Tergeo to scrape off the blood, Reparo to reassemble the bones, since he didn't care about scrambling the soft tissue anyway, and smoothed everything out as best he could, at least making Uncle Cygnus recognizable again. Then he replaced the mask. He only waited a few minutes before Bella and Rodolphus returned.
"He wants to see you," Rodolphus informed him.
Sirius nodded. "Give Cissy my love," he told Bella, leaving her to her anger and grief.
Inside the Headquarters, the scene was more chaotic, and the whole place smelled of blood. Rodolphus had followed him in and pointed him in the direction of the infirmary before joining Dolohov in the triage and debriefing process. Sirius wound his way through the crowd. There were a fair few with ragged, bloody injuries that must have come from Rosier's initial blasting curse. There were plenty more sporting the effects of Dark curses and hexes.
The infirmary held the worst. Nott was currently bent over a witch Sirius could not recognize through the terrible burns covering her face and shoulders. Voldemort was crouched by another blood-soaked cot, his back obscuring what he was doing from Sirius' view. He walked forwards quietly and heard the Dark Lord muttering the same incantation over and over again, "Pressio-Augere... Pressio-Augere..." Sirius looked over his shoulder to see Voldemort was casting the anti-shock charm with one hand, while reimplanting internal organs with the other. This Death Eater must have been hit by Rosier or one of the other Imperiused ones. He couldn't imagine an auror or Order member using the Entrails Expelling curse.
He stepped to the side a little and bowed. "My Lord."
Voldemort did not look up at him, but he smiled. "Sirius. I will not say that I am entirely pleased with the outcome of our mission, but... I am pleased with you. You have slain a great enemy of our cause this night. Pressio-Augere."
"Thank you, my Lord."
"Show me."
Sirius edged around the cot and knelt on the other side of it. Once he was situated, Voldemort's eyes flicked up and caught and held his own. Sirius called up the memory of Crouch manor in the few seconds before and after he destroyed it. Once again, he watched the four distant signs of his Homenum Revelio spell go out. Voldemort dropped his Legilimency probe quickly enough, returning his attention to healing. He grinned widely at what Sirius had shown him.
"Are you injured? Pressio-Augere."
"Not severely."
"Let me see."
Sirius extended his left hand. "The first Imperiused Death Eater-"
"Rosier," Voldemort supplied.
"...it was Rosier?" Sirius did not have to feign his surprise. Rosier had kept his mask the whole time, his robes were unornamented, and he wore no distinctive jewelry unlike most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Maybe Voldemort could recognize them all through their Dark Marks or something. Or by flying through their bodies as an evil wraith, he supposed.
"It was. Pressio-Augere. Vulnera Senentur."
"I see. Well. Flesh-eating curse. I'm faster with transfiguration than I am with the countercurse, at least in the middle of a battle."
"Rodolphus will fix if for you. Pressio-Augere."
"I can probably fix it myself, now."
"I said Rodolphus will fix it for you, and you will tell him that these ministrations come from my hand."
"Yes, my Lord."
"You may go. You will assist others after you are healed."
"Yes, my Lord." Sirius bowed again and walked back into the other room to find Rodolphus. There had been a lot of progress made; all the deep wounds were covered in temporary bandages until they could be properly dealt with.
"How'd it go?" Rodolphus asked, even as he delicately removed Sullivan Travers' horn-tongue curse. Travers also appeared to have been the victim of a finger-removing jinx.
"He said you're supposed to fix my hand, and that 'these ministrations come from his hand.'"
Rodolphus smiled. "You are being honored, cousin. Wait a moment, Sullivan. I'll get your fingers in a bit. Let me see, Sirius."
Travers scowled at Sirius but said nothing. Sirius awkwardly raised his hand up to show Rodolphus. "There's a flesh-eating curse under the transfiguration."
"Ah. This will go better if one person removes the transfiguration while someone else stabilizes and then removes the curse."
"I can undo the transfiguration," Sirius said, digging in his robes for his wand.
"Not if the Dark Lord wants us to heal you on his behalf, you can't. Antonin, get over here!" Dolohov drifted over. Rodolphus explained the situation again. Apparently, Voldemort saw some ceremonial significance in healing his favored followers. That cast a new light on some of Sirius' previous interactions. The two of them made quick work of Sirius' hand. Dolohov returned to his side of the room. Rodolphus trained his wand back on Travers.
"How many did we lose?" Sirius asked softly.
"Too many," Rodolphus said in a low voice. "At least six dead, another eight dead or captured. We'll be working through the night here, I've no doubt."
Sirius nodded and turned away to find someone with the kinds of injuries he could potentially help with.
Alastor visually swept the grounds and beach with his magical eye, not trusting the Death Eaters' and Voldemort's sudden departure. But it seemed genuine. The final seven Death Eaters had even taken a few of their fallen with them, though not all. They had missed two that the aurors had buried and disillusioned in the sand after they were disabled. Quickly, Alastor issued orders to take those two in for processing. His gaze drifted up to the destroyed manor, now a cloud of dust and ash. Nothing moved except for the undulations of the silent, glittering Dark Mark illuminating the sky. He shuddered.
"Alice," he said loudly. "Take charge here. Secure the area, get our wounded to St. Mungo's. Search what's left of the house. Collect the bodies. Frank and Prewetts will be with you. Everyone else who can still fight, back to the Thames. We'll rendezvous at the muggle command tent and redeploy from there."
Fortunately, and as Alastor had anticipated, there was not much left for the aurors to do against the Inferi. General Jenkins was doing just fine, thank you very much. Every tree in sight was broken and/or on fire, several buildings flattened, and the parks and roads nearest the river transformed into a pitted wasteland, but there was not an Inferius in sight, even Alastor's magical sight, just hundreds of burning corpses.
"Fairy tale monsters don't hold up all that well against modern incendiary devices," Jenkins said with satisfaction. "Also, about half of them suddenly keeled over about ten minutes ago. Made the job rather easier."
"Ah yes, I thought something like that might happen," Alastor said. Jenkins and Rufus both raised their eyebrows, but Alastor did not explain himself. He had watched Sirius cast the final, devastating blasting curse. The curse had far too much energy for an ordinary wizard to wield in the normal course of events, and Sirius had told the portrait about the plans for him, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Antonin Dolohov to augment themselves with the Inferi somehow. Albus had muttered about looking it up in Magic Moste Evil, but for himself, Alastor decided he didn't actually need to know the details. He scolded himself for that now. He hadn't fully understood what Sirius meant, and people were dead because of it. He had thought the serial warding strategy would last much, much longer. He had thought he and Albus would be much closer to the house if and when the wards finally fell. Close enough to rescue the people inside.
"Rufus, you'll be in charge here," he said abruptly. "Do a sweep to check all the Inferi are destroyed, and then coordinate with the Obilviators.
"Where are you going?"
"To check in with our boss."
"He's alive?" Rufus exclaimed.
Alastor grinned without humor. "Did you really think I'd let him go home?"
"...I really thought you'd lost your edge when they stepped the threat assessment down to Level 2 in the afternoon. I will never doubt again."
"Constant vigilance."
"Yes. Well. I'll go arrange the sweep. Back in twenty, General." Rufus swept out of the tent.
"A word with you before I go," Alastor said in a low voice, beckoning Arabella over from where she had been pretending to work at a desk on the other side of the tent. He cast a privacy charm.
"Your mission went well?" Jenkins asked.
Alastor grimaced. "We achieved our primary objective and took out almost half the forces he had with him."
"I'd call that a success."
"It's not a failure, but our own losses were too many. When is the earliest I should obliviate you, General?"
"Assuming your man gives the all clear, my part of this will be done as soon as I issue orders for the cleanup and troop withdrawal. My subofficers can handle the withdrawal itself."
"And the pace of that will depend on the obliviations. I assume you'll still want them to finish civilian obliviations first?" Jenkins nodded. "Fine. Arabella, when Rufus gets back, set up a meeting with Lethe, that's the Head Obliviator, so you all can coordinate. Send me a message with an estimate for when it will be Jenkins' turn. Only me or Albus. Don't call Euphemia." Arabella's eyes widened at what went unspoken. Jenkins' eyes narrowed, but he did not probe. Alastor dismissed his privacy charms. "It's been a pleasure working with you, General," he said briskly. "I'll be in touch later." He strode out of the tent and apparated to his next stop.
He appeared in the hall on Level 2 in the Ministry of Magic offices. Luckily, it was still dark and quiet. Alice must still be processing the dead and captured downstairs. Alastor walked to the end of the hall and let himself into Barty's office. "It's Alastor. Halo, harken, Hapsburg, harbinger, hooligan, hoboe," he said softly to the not-actually-empty room, magical eye locked on the person sitting behind the desk. "It's over."
There was a rustle of fabric as Bartemius Crouch quietly removed Fleamont Potter's invisibility cloak and set it aside. He looked amazingly composed for a man who a few hours before had been asked not to go home and instead allow a Polyjuiced doppelganger to take his place defending his house and his wife against an anticipated Death Eater assault.
"What happened?" Barty asked quietly. "I got Mr. Potter's message when the assault began, obviously. I had hoped your fears were unwarranted."
"I'm sorry, Barty. I tried. The house is destroyed, and Victoria was in it the last I saw through the wards."
Barty paled and nodded. "She would not have left unless she was with Mr. Potter when he sent the patronus and saw him for an imposter, or unless he admitted the deception to her. She would not want to leave me, even if Winky begged her to."
"Winky?"
"My house elf. I summoned her here before Mr. Potter left and told her not to betray his presence and to protect Victoria, but..."
"I'm sorry, Barty."
"It was the risk we took. I understand, Alastor. I agreed with you when you told me your suspicions and your plan tonight. Since the Death Eaters were determined to attack, it is certain they had eyes on the house and on the floo network. It would have been extremely suspicious to move Victoria, and they may have switched to an undefended target. I can only thank Merlin and Morgana it is March."
"March?"
"If it were summer, my son would have been there too. What can you report of the casualties? And what is happening on the Thames?"
"The battle with the Inferi is won. Rufus is checking for stragglers. At Foulness, ten to twelve Death Eaters dead, two captured. At least two aurors dead, in addition to the people in the house. Alice will have the final numbers."
Barty nodded again. His hand shook as he suddenly handed Alastor the letter he had been writing. "Read it, please. It's for my son. I've been working on it ever since Mr. Potter left. I don't know what to say."
Alastor took the letter. He furrowed his brow. "You wrote this before I came in to tell you what happened?"
"I knew it would be a difficult letter to write. I prepared another in the event that Victoria had lived and was injured."
My son,
You have most likely already heard from your head of house that our home was attacked this night. It was attacked by Lord Voldemort himself because of my position in the Ministry and my opposition to the criminal who wishes to overthrow our government. I am very sorry to tell you that your mother perished in the attack. The house elf, the Ministry security team, and I did all we could to protect her, but as you know, she was not strong. When a curse breached our defenses, she was not able to withstand it. Winky also was killed. I myself am injured. My son, you must be strong, and you must be very careful. Because I live, you will become even more of a target than you already are. I am writing to Professor Flitwick to revoke your permission to visit Hogsmeade, for your safety. It is my wish that you do not even venture out of the building onto the school grounds except for class and to attend quidditch games. Go nowhere without at least two trusted friends. I will write to inform you of funeral arrangements in the next few days.
Your father
Merlin, what an awful letter, Alastor thought. "Are you planning on visiting your boy at Hogwarts?"
"Perhaps once things are more settled..." he said vaguely.
Alastor slapped the letter down on the desk. "Sir, this letter is terrible. It sounds like you're writing to me, not to your son. You can't tell a teenager his mother is dead like that!"
"What should I say, then?"
Alastor stared at the man, seeing him for the first time in a new light. He had only ever had a professional relationship with Bartemius Crouch, and they worked very well together. Whatever else he was, the man was extremely capable as a leader. The only inkling Alastor had ever had about his boss's less-than-perfect relationship with his son came from comments relayed from Sirius Black. And yet, Alastor didn't think Barty was as coldly unfeeling as he currently seemed. Perhaps he was just very, very bad at actually displaying and communicating emotion under stress.
"Tell him you love him," Alastor said eventually. "Tell him you share his grief. Tell him what you told me just now, that you are so, so thankful that he wasn't at home. Tell him... you're sorry that your decisions have put the both of you in this situation, and that you will try to be strong for him." Alastor felt an unexpected heat in his own eye, and he blinked furiously to clear it.
Barty didn't notice. He had buried his face in his hands. "Victoria was the one who raised him, Alastor," he whispered. "I was always working. Always. I don't know how to be his father without her there to be his mother..."
"But you do love him?" Alastor asked.
"Of course I do! He's my son. And he's a good one. Diligent in his studies, understanding of the pressures our family is under. He got twelve O.W.L.s you know..."
"You've told me before. A little word of advice, you're going to have to get to know him better now, know him the way Victoria knew him, not just his grades and achievements, or else you might lose him."
"What do you mean I'll lose him?" Barty asked, head snapping back up.
"You-Know-Who is going to be pissed when he realizes you're still alive. I can guarantee he'll try to take it out on Barty if he can."
"Obviously. That's why I was trying to tell him so in the letter."
"Which is all well and good, but You-Know-Who also has a thing for seducing his enemies' children away from them. Just look at the Malfoys."
"...you're right. Thank you, Alastor. Will you be meeting with Albus tonight?"
"Yes, after I check in with Alice about the final casualty report."
"I'll go with you to speak to Alice. Tell Albus I desire to visit Barty in the morning, after I am released from St. Mungo's." Alastor raised an eyebrow. Barty's voice was perfectly steady as he explained, "Mr. Potter stressed the importance of making sure it seemed I was in the house, both before and after the event. I did not press him for an explanation as to why, but I will comply with his wishes. It is the least I owe him. I leave it to you and Alice to inflict the damage you deem most appropriate."
Alastor shuddered but nodded. That was the fire, determination, and sheer grit he so admired in Barty. "Yes, sir." Barty redonned the invisibility cloak, and the two of them headed for the lower levels. As they walked, all Alastor could think about was how he was meant to tell Sirius that Fleamont had died in the attack. Sirius should absolutely not learn of it through a missing persons report in the Daily Prophet. No, he should give the portrait a specific message to relay. One thing was certain, he would not be telling Sirius that Fleamont had been inside the house when Sirius had destroyed it.
Author's note: Foulness Island comes from fugla næsse ("bird headland"), and when I realized it existed when reading up on the Crouch River, couldn't pass it up with a name like that. Also, it's a "closed" island because of previous military testing, but could always pretend in HP-verse that's actually just a cover for the wizarding side of things.
Crouch's patronus is not revealed in canon. To pick out the dragon, I went through the list of possible patronuses and their associated attributes and got rid of anything that included warm, passionate, loving, or loyal, because obviously, that's not Crouch, unless you count passionate ambition and loyalty to job over family. Then I got rid of the ones that emphasized wisdom, intuition, and observing skills, because he never noticed his son was a) lonely b) a Death Eater. After all that, the finalists were Abraxan winged horse, brown owl, crocodile, dragon, Granian winged horse, mole, rat, shark, sparrowhawk, vulture, white stallion, and wild boar. Dragon won partly with eenie-meenie-minie-mo, partly because dragons are frickin' awesome. Per the internet, having a dragon Patronus apparently means you are a remarkable leader (check) and firmly hold your beliefs (double check). You are not afraid to stand up for what you know (think) is right, no matter the consequences (triple check, includes leaving wife as bait for trap and in another universe sending son to Azkaban). You spark both fear and respect in your enemies (and possibly allies...). Now, dragon patronuses are also incredibly rare and as with all the magical creature patronuses are even more suggestive than usual about the caster's character and power, but heck, maybe that's one of the reasons so many people were willing to overlook Crouch's red flag behavior in canon. Great=/=good.
And... Fleamont. Yes, he really is dead. It's horrible, and I'm sorry, but at the same time, it was the logical, painful thing to do as a storyteller. It would have been too stupid for Moody to let Crouch really bait the trap. I toyed with bringing back an alive!Edgar Bones, who surprise wasn't really murdered because his dad polyjuiced as him to be the sacrifice because Dumbledore went behind Moody's back to tell them they had to leave someone behind. While that technically would have worked, and been very messed up in a different way... it would have been a cop-out and not as powerful a story. Being part of the fight and especially volunteering for this incredibly dangerous and potentially deadly mission because he knows it will protect Sirius is true to Fleamont's character. Plus, as already established back at Malfoy Manor, he's a damn good warder, so he was the logical choice from that perspective too.
Thank you for the reviews, and continue to look for updates on Saturdays
