In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 92: Lashings
Harry paced in the Gia's bedroom, Thursday morning.
"What's going on?" Gia asked.
"Apparate," Ron said.
"And Dumbledore gets kissed!" Hermione snapped.
"Take that off," Harry said to Hermione.
"My—?" Hermione asked.
"You get lashed, I feel it," Ron said.
Hermione removed her rings, set them on the desk. A quarter to eight, an owl dropped three red letters. Harry opened his, a wand holster that fell from him, as the jerk behind the naval, the Portkey took hold. Ron and Hermione in the distance. Harry landed, starkers, on the floor of the Antechamber behind the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione landed next, also starkers. Harry held his hands over his crotch, as did Ron.
"You have a few minutes left to enjoy them Weasley," Fallerschain snapped.
"Clothes? Loo?" Hermione protested.
"You'd just ruin something Weasley are too broke to afford," the Minister snapped.
Harry glanced around, felt the effect of demeantors nearby. Madam Pomfrey entered, with flasks.
"I'm appalled as much as you are," said Madam Pomfrey, "Here, something to help."
Harry unsure, took the sip, the bitter flavor.
"After today," Ron said, "Your wand is never to go near me."
"Don't swear me—" Madam Pomfrey started.
"Never," Ron stated.
Madam Pomfrey nodded.
"Please drink up," Madam Pomfrey said, "It'll numb the pain to come, it's all I could do."
Gia paced the living room, already past noon, her mind not on the classes that she'd skipped, but the letter, the one advising her to hold strong. A thud outside. She opened the door. On the ground, starkers fouled in brown and yellow, tender red skin, the matted hair, idle; Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Gia knelt down.
"Harry?" Gia asked, felt the slime on the shoulders she shook.
A spat, the puffed eyes remained closed, fingers twitched.
"Ron, Hermione?" Gia said, "Best to get inside."
Harry rolled, onto his hands and knees, crawled. Gia sniffed, the foulness.
"Played in a sewer?" Gia asked.
Ron and Hermione began to roll, followed.
"Bathtub," Gia suggested.
Harry got into a hunched upright posture.
"This way," Gia said, held the hand.
They went into the house, Harry took his time with the stairs, Ron and Hermione behind, up them to the lavatory. Gia worked, cleaned and disinfected the three of them.
"I don't have healing magic," Gia said.
"Enough with magic," Harry managed.
Gia handed them each towels, worked gently.
"My letter had enough to work out what happened," Gia said.
"They raped Hermione," Harry said, "All of them, let them burn if Voldemort attacks."
"Harry," Hermione said.
They went out toward the bedroom.
"Sorry," Harry said, "My sympathy's gone. We're doing this for us, not them. Voldemort wants to destroy them—I'll get it into The Daily Telegraph and see what happens."
"A bit drastic," said Dumbledore, already sitting on the corner of the bed.
"You—couldn't you—" Harry stammered.
"At the price of us all," Dumbledore said, "All I could do was ensure you'd live, all other options guaranteed a victory to Voldemort."
Gia caught Harry's glare.
Hoot!
Harry's eyes wide, the extra bird there on the pedestal. Harry went over, stroked Hedwig's feathers, Fawkes on the bar next to her.
"While I wish you'd stick to attending to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, "I'd understand if you didn't. If you do not show up by eight thirty on the fourteenth, or which ever day the suspension is extended to, I'll treat it as a voluntary withdrawal, giving you the option to re–enroll once this infernal mess is over with."
"Ta," Harry said.
"Second," Dumbledore said, "I understand you tried something this week, something you'd like to tell me?"
Harry turned around.
"We…" Harry said, "Tried to exploit my scar, we wanted to see who the plants were, since he'd know."
Hermione leaned into Gia, Gia held her.
"And the Wizengamot got involved," Dumbledore said, "Thus, I don't think it's about Miss. MacDonald. Her death was simply the excuse."
"Meaning…?" Ron asked, "Retaliation?"
"Likely," Dumbledore said, "Our problems are mutually linked. I've been trying to treat you as the adults you are. So, I'm curious to how bad the situation with the bounties has gotten, not the value, the impacts."
"Besides the attacks?" Harry said, "Not much."
"Why am I learning of that now?" Dumbledore said, "I assume that you have been keeping a record—"
"No." Ron shrugged.
"You may be missing important clues, patterns," Dumbledore said, "It may prove useful to do so; figure out how much of your routine they know."
"If you'll excuse us," Ron said, "We've got evening classes we'll be late for."
Gia caught the twinkle of the eyes as Dumbledore stood. Fingers to photographs on top of the Romantic Wizard.
"Be grateful an old man leaves his office doors unsealed," Dumbledore said, "Though with his voice, everyone in the castle likely heard him.
"Is that all?" Hermione asked.
"Oh," Dumbledore said, "Fawkes wanted to get away from Hogwarts for a day or so, hope you don't mind the imposition."
Dumbledore vanished. Gia moved her hand along the skin.
"Um…" Harry muttered.
"Think we have something," Gia said, moving for the door.
"Dobby is happy to help Harry Potter!"
Large eyes, short creature, the tea cozy stood there.
"Um…" Harry stuttered.
"Excuse me," Dobby said.
Dobby touched Harry's swollen right eye, the swelling subsided, and the eye opened. Dobby touched the skin, the redness vanished, returned to normal skin. Dobby repeated this for Ron and Hermione.
"Ta," Harry said.
"Bit…tender," Hermione said.
"Misses will find it is for a while," Dobby said, "Wizards and witches prefer better skin. Dobby prefers better skin."
"Thank you," Harry said, "I like my hide intact."
"Dobby loves Harry Potter," Dobby said, "Winky and Dobby cried, for Winky and Dobby knows it's undeserved punishment."
Incoming owls, Ron grabbed The Daily Prophet, the Witch Weekly Special, and a thick letter, placed them all into his book bag.
"We're taking these," Ron said, "And we're drinking after class—don't argue."
"Ready?" Harry asked, putting his wand holster on his wrist. Ron did the same.
"Don't apparate!" Hermione said, "You'll splinch!"
Harry and Ron disapparated. Dobby took a vial to Fawkes, collected tears, set it aside. Hermione took the vial, stuffed it into her wand holster still on the desk.
"Dobby knows the physical marks are all but gone," Dobby said, "Dobby knows other marks were formed that are not so easily removed."
"Thoughtful," Gia said, "I think we can manage those."
"Dobby," Hermione asked, "Know of anything suspicious before MacDonald was found?"
"Dobby is unaware," Dobby said.
"Ask around," Hermione said.
"Dobby is more free with his tongue than most House Elfs," Dobby said.
"Anything will help," Hermione said.
"Dobby must be excused," Dobby said, "Dobby is supposed to be at Hogwarts, tending Winky—"
"What about her?" Hermione asked.
"Dobby help Winky after she took too many Butterbeers," Dobby said, "Winky saw friendly witch and wizards tortured."
Dobby vanished.
"He's cute," Gia said, "Funny too—the loyalty."
They dressed.
"You're not going to that class by yourself," Gia said.
Hermione picked up the ruby ring from the desk, slid it over her finger.
"Can you go faster?" Gia asked.
"Not like this," Hermione said, "Surprised Harry and Ron didn't splinch."
Gia lifted the book–bag, slung it over her shoulder. Hermione flinched as she put her wand holster back on.
"Boys would tease me if I skipped class," Hermione said.
Gia rubbed her back a bit, went down the steps. To the door, and Hermione used her wand. Gia felt it, the disillusionment, the SEP, go over her; and they went out into the cooling air in the breeze, the night nearly upon them.
Harry left the classroom first, Ron with him, book–bags over their shoulders.
"Not hitting anything up tonight," Harry grumbled, his muscles complained, the soreness within them.
Ron shook his head. Both cast their charms, stepped out of the community center.
"Sure Dad's jealous," Ron said, "Me living among muggles—guessing he wants me to explain their stove."
"Wish I were a muggle," Harry said.
"This look's decent." Ron pointed to Mike's Pub.
"Wands at the ready," Harry said, "We kill the rat if he shows."
Their charms dropped as they entered. A burly man behind the counter glanced at them. Harry sifted through those eyes, the reactions to them.
"Of age?" the bartender asked.
Harry implanted the idea they were.
"Yes," Ron said, "Doesn't matter, we've got things to forget."
Harry sat across from Ron at a table in the corner. Harry stared at the blue eyes, the freckled face, the teeth. Harry tried to forget, the whip across Ron, unable to let it go, and the sense of responsibility, only through friendship was this boy placed into that danger.
"Should've used a memory charm," Harry said.
"Likely too late," Ron said, "Guessing they slipped something into Pomfrey's cocktails, doubt they'd want us to forget."
Harry glanced, the tray from the counter levitated over, and Harry put one down in front of Ron. Harry worked the first one down, the bitter flavor, he'd rather this than what'd happened at Hogwarts, unsure if he'd ever go back, if he even wanted to.
Burp!
Ron put the cup down, took out The Daily Prophet.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"Your arse made the front page," Ron said, "That whip across it."
"Stop that," Harry snapped.
"Not a family newspaper," Ron said as he continued, "Convictions to manslaughter, rape, though can't stick due to Dumbledore."
"Burn it," Harry said.
"Castration to page six," Ron said, "Whether I suffered enough pain."
"Keep that up and use a Cruciatus," Harry said.
"Can't," Ron said, "That long? It'd be an execution."
A second set of beers floated over. Harry used that second to flush down some peanuts. Ron turned to Witch Weekly.
"At least the ladies still think you're cute, even as a killer," Ron said, "Comparisons—"
"Don't know when to stop, do you?" Harry asked.
Ron flipped the pages, the pictures clear to have been from earlier today, their todgers on them.
"Not sure if the dildo supply's dried up," Ron said, "Survey claims two out of five witches have a copy of yours, with half admitting to using it—"
"Enough!" Harry barked.
"Fine." Ron opened his letter, his expression changed.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Percy's a busy auditor," Ron said, "Our investigation case file, has the autopsy to MacDonald." Ron rested the letter, picked up the report. "Cut throat, hints of the rape, though nothing super detailed, like the coroner didn't bother to do it right."
"Figures," Harry said.
"Charges recommended," Ron said, "Nothing really to back them up, aside from there being a corpse, and character references from The Daily Prophet."
"Like we expected an investigation," Harry said as he chugged a beer.
A pill showed up in his hand, he popped it.
"Drink and sober?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged.
"Percy's checking into his coworkers too," Ron said, returned to his letter, "They're being bribed for their findings, rewards after the fact."
"Figures," Harry said, "What gets me… if we're so bad, we ought to be in Azkaban now, regardless of Dumbledore's stance."
"Dunno," Ron said, "Whippings—light for what we were convicted of. Sure keeping Dumbledore busy."
Harry looked up at his blue eyed friend, the freckles.
"Blimey!" Harry stammered, "That is the point, we're so screwed."
Harry stood up fast, Ron threw down the ten pound note, and followed. They walked fast, briskly out the door.
"What?" Ron asked.
They stopped next to a wall, Harry focused on Ron.
"Don't you see what's going on?" Harry asked.
Ron shrugged.
"Dumbledore, the order, even us," Harry said, "We're running around chasing some troublemakers, while we're ignoring the real threat."
Harry failed to notice a car nearby stopping.
"Voldemort knows the old man's dying," Harry said, "Thus, he keeps us busy while he regroups. And we know he's recruiting—heck, this Eximo Macula gives him a shit–ton of potential recruits. Each one so gullible, because me, we're so tarnished that Dumbledore can't organize or bring in supporters."
Harry didn't have to read Ron's eyes, to know the understanding was coming to Ron too.
"Damn," Ron muttered, "And with the bounties—?"
"Easy victory if I'm too badly injured to fight," Harry said, "He knows the prophesy and believed it enough to attack a baby, enough to bring it into force. I can only live if I can get him to leave me alone, but he won't until I kill him."
Ron almost muttered, the understanding within him.
"Damn," Ron said, "Bounties on me? Girls?"
"Retaliation led by a chief idiot," Harry said, "Because you're friends of me. Sure keeps Dumbledore and the order busy trying to protect us, time they could be using in other ways."
"Blimey!" Ron said, "Know—"
"Tell him later," Harry said.
Crack! Whiz! Crack! Whiz!
A pair of bullets came to a halt by Harry, he plucked them out of the air, held them.
"To muggles these would be fatal," Harry said.
"Wizards don't manage that either," Ron said, "You're different."
Harry's hand to Ron's chest.
"Today—we tried to take on Voldemort," Harry said, "And he demonstrated the influence he had in the Ministry."
They ignored the car peeling out.
"Want to try that one?" Harry pointed to the No Knickers pub across the road.
Ron shrugged. Though Ron glanced both ways, Harry spotted, jumped out of the way of one car, made it across. And they entered. Harry went to the bar.
"Two whiskeys," Harry said.
A glance to the eyes of the woman.
"We're of age," Harry stated.
She filled up two mugs as Harry paid.
"Ta," Harry said.
Harry carried them over, this time, Harry sat to the same side of the table as Ron.
"Seem calm with how they raped Hermione," Harry said, "Malfoy—they all were."
"Maybe its the procedure!" Ron snapped.
Harry sipped at the whiskey, when the familiar bushy brown hair entered, her wand in her hand. Gia followed. Hermione stored her wand.
"Join us," Ron said, "Discussing and drowning today."
Hermione sat in front of Harry, Gia in front of Ron. A couple of beers floated over, and Harry pushed them in front of Gia and Hermione.
"Not a good idea," Hermione said, sipping into one.
"Remember today?" Harry snapped.
"Malfoy raping you, page TWO!" Ron laid open The Daily Prophet. "Editors recommend following his example." Ron pulled it apart. "Me having to bang his arse, page FOUR!" Ron pointed to the graphic picture.
"Why comply?" Gia asked.
"Entertainment," Ron said.
"We had to," Hermione said, "Summary execution of us, Dumbledore, others."
"Had enough demeantors and aurors on hand to make good on those threats," Harry said, "Suppressed our magic too, it fucking hurt."
"You weren't in good shape coming home," Gia said.
"You can read up on it." Harry shoved the paper at her. "Want no more of it."
A beer floated over, Harry worked into it.
"Harry had an idea," Ron said.
Ron explained.
"Possible," Hermione said, "Of course, the real culprit watched…maybe even…"
Hermione wept.
"Guessing they paid off the Ministry," Ron said.
"Bribery's always newsworthy," Gia said.
Steak fries floated over.
"Not for us," Ron said as he munched on those, "We'd be dismissed as whiners."
Harry glanced at the faces as he sipped the whiskey, knew he loved them, cared for them, but the attraction not there and understood how his gonads added to that.
"All your ideas," Hermione said, "Know who you've got to tell."
"Later, maybe tomorrow," Ron said, "Tonight—" he put his hand down on the newsprint. "Tonight we discuss this, because we gotta move on."
"Easy for you to say," Harry said, "Wanting me to autograph my butt?"
Ron's blue eyes fixed onto Harry.
"Saying we have to," Ron said, "This was a bloody attack by Voldemort, it'll drown us if we don't move past it. Wanna throw in the towel and give up?"
Harry took The Daily Prophet back, the front page, puked onto the table.
"Not easy," Ron said, "We're doing it, alright?"
"Hey HEY!" the shout came, the four that came over, "Think we've had enough, best to move along."
"Um…" Gia started.
"We don't want any trouble now, do we?" asked the burley man, "Don't even look to be of age, best move before I call the coppers."
Harry got up, and started for the door. Ron, Harry, and Gia followed out into the night. Harry stumbled a bit on the sidewalk, they came to the next pub, entered.
"Four beers," Hermione said to the man.
"Here," Ron suggested.
Harry went to the table, stumbled as he sat.
"This isn't going to change anything," Gia said.
"Harry needs this," Ron said, "I do."
Ron nibbled at the peanuts, Hermione carried the beers over, and Harry took one, guzzled it down. The night becoming more of a blur, Harry continued, until it ended with blue flashing lights, handcuffs, and landing onto a concrete floor.
Date: Thu Oct 5 17:31:50 2023