Chapter 42: Good Deeds For Some
Thanks for all the reviews. A bit short today.
HP-BTVS-HP-BTVS
When Spike and Xander came out of the pensieve, they realized that they didn't know anybody that was in there except Voldemort and Harry. Well, Malfoy and Snape, but no one else. Meaning that it didn't do them any good to have gone in there. They needed somebody who knew these people, so they went off to find Mad-Eye Moody. It took them only a few minutes to find him because he was already there in the house, drinking some of Xander's scotch.
"Alastor," Xanders said, coming up to the man and pouring himself a drink. He needed it after watching what he just watched. "I need you to come look at this pensieve and tell me who these people are."
"I hate going in those things, they leave me helpless," the one-legged man said, downing his drink and putting the glass on the table.
"Spike will stay out this time and he'll protect your body," the yellow-eyed man said also downing the alcohol. He didn't get anymore, never being much of a drinker, thanks to his parents being drunks.
"Oh, will I now?" said Spike, taking a swig from his glass of spirits. "I like how you volunteer me for these things," he said, finishing off his glass.
"Come on, Spike, you know how paranoid he is," Xander said, pointing to the man, who simply nodded in agreement.
"Least you could have done was ask me first," the vampire groused, pouring himself some more scotch.
"Fine. Spike, will you watch Alastor's body while we go and catch the bad guys?" Xander asked with a great deal of sarcasm.
"I reckon I can," said Spike, smirking. "For a bit of dosh."
"How about some more blood lollies instead?" the other man offered.
"Wot, I look like a child to you?" Spike said, looking offended.
Alastor looked at him and said, "How about I get you some real blood."
"Now see, that right there is how you make a deal. Alright then," the vampire said, raising his glass in agreement and downing it.
And with that, the three of them trooped back to the pensieve and Alastor and Xander went inside. Spike sat and watched their bodies. Alastor was looking at the memories and recognized all of the Death Eaters. He recognized the man who took Harry's blood and said, "That is Barty Crouch Junior. He's supposed to be dead."
"How did the dead man come to kidnap my son?" Xander asked, though the question didn't sound as dumb as it should have given there was a vampire watching his body right now.
"You'd have to ask Barty Crouch Senior," Moody said, he was going to have to talk to the man himself. He never trusted Senior. The man was just too ruthless for his own good.
"I haven't seen him since the second task," Xander said. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen the man at all since the second task. He just disappeared. He had sent Percy Weasley to take his place.
"We'll have to go to his house. I'm sure he'll be there," Moody said, still looking at all the men that he recognized. He was mentally taking down names, making sure he remembered them all.
"Have you taken note of all who showed up to the resurrection party?"
"Yeah, I got all their names. I recognize every single one of them," the one-legged man said. There were no new Death Eaters at this party.
"Good show. We'll make sure that every single one of their vaults are frozen," the King of the Goblins said, with sadistic glee.
And with that, the two of them left the pensive.
"Your boy was a brave lad in there," said Alastor, clapping the proud father on the back.
"That he was," said Xander, beaming with pride.
"He kept his head after a while and got away. That's all that matters," the paranoid man said.
"That and he took some of them down with him. That matters too," Spike added a bit of pride in his tone too.
"I'm surprised that the ministry didn't arrest him for that," Mad-Eye said, his fake eye spinning all around the room as if he expected the magical police to pop out of the woodwork any minute. Purebloods had died that night. The ministry usually didn't let that go.
"You know, come to think about it, I'm surprised at that too. I don't think they know who died," Xander said with a great deal of shock. He had expected them to arrest Harry for that too. He had been ready to storm the Ministry.
"I think it's more along the lines that they don't want to have to deal with you," said Spike, jerking his thumb at Xander.
"That could be it too. Alastor, write down those names for me so I can give them to the goblins," Xander said, getting back on track.
"Righto," said Alastor, going to the nearest desk and grabbing a quill and parchment.
"Spike, do what you want to with these guys. I don't care. This is not a slow burn like it was with Malfoy. This is war," said Xander, a malicious gleam was in his eye. He knew Spike could get creative when he wanted to. Even with his soul. The vampire had a sadistic bone in his body and a need for blood.
"Right," said Spike with that lazy smirk of his. "I'm gonna need a lot of dosh," he said, like he was going to milk it for all it was worth.
"I'll give you free reign of a vault that I'll set up for you," the owner of Hogwarts said. He had a lot of money. He could afford to give some to the vampire for this. He knew Spike was going to play him, just to be contrary, but he'd keep a tight leash on his money.
"Better make it a big one," said the blond vampire from his place on the couch. He'd need some room to play with. That and there were tools he'd need.
"Don't get too greedy there, Spike. It will be big enough to get what you need," Xander said, getting frustrated. He remembered all the times Spike would hit the Scoobies and Giles up for money in the old days. Claiming to need blood or smokes.
"Don't be too stingy there, Harris. I'm gonna need to do a lot of things and I'm going to need a lot of things to get them done," Spike said, getting snappy. The two got up from where they had been sitting and stared at each other.
"Alright, you two, don't start. I'll keep an eye on the vampire and make sure he doesn't overspend," offered Alastor, getting between the two. He knew if the two of them got started they'd never get anything accomplished. "Xander, you have to remember that wars cost money. And Spike, you have to remember that this money is earmarked for the school."
The two men just glared at each other for another second and then looked at Alastor.
"I don't need no sodden babysitter," said Spike, looking down at Alastor because he was a couple inches taller than the man.
"You're gonna get one anyway," said Moody, staring back up at the vampire's face.
Spike vamped out just to scare the man because he hadn't seen it before. But Mad-Eye just glared at him.
"You don't scare me, boy," Which is only partially true, because that was quite a freaky face.
"Boy? I'll have you know I'm over 100 years older than you are," Which wasn't actually true. He was less than 50 years older than him.
"And yet you still don't scare me," the younger man said, though he was a bit terrified of those fangs.
"Alright, let's get this over with," Xander said, trying to break up the argument. Which is ironic because that's what Alastor was trying to do with them.
"Get what over with?" inquired Alastor.
"I hear they got Snape down in the dungeons," Xander said, rubbing his hands together like a kid that got a new bike for Christmas, and they wanted to jump it.
"Oh, Snape. He's Dumbledore's pet Death Eater. I've always wanted a crack at that boy," said the ex-Auror with a shit-eating grin. He loved to take apart Death Eaters.
"Do you need me? Because I don't feel like going down there and making good with a Death Eater," Spike asked, sitting back down, and flipping on the telly. Snape was a wuss in his mind. The man folded like a deck of cards. He bowed to two masters.
"We could use you to stand there and look menacing," Xander said, though they really didn't need the man. He was just being facetious.
"I'd rather watch the telly," the vampire said, his eyes not leaving the idiot box.
"Alright, you watch your TV, we'll go down and take care of Snape," the yellow-eyed man said, shrugging his shoulders. It didn't matter to him one wit. Spike wasn't needed. He, like Spike, thought Snape was a wuss.
With that, Alastor and Xander went down to the dungeons to question Snape to figure out what had happened that they didn't know about. That's if they could get Snape to talk. Even though they'd watched the memory, Harry's concentration had been more on his dead hand than had been on what had been going on around him. Yeah, and he had been in so much pain that a lot of it was very hazy.
Snape was down there yelling about being let out. That he was a good guy, and all that. That he didn't deserve to be in the cells.
As soon as he saw Xander, he quieted down and glared at the man. Then he saw Mad-Eye Moody, and his glare tripled. "Moody, tell this man that I am not supposed to be here," he demanded, his grip on the bars of his cell tightened so much that his knuckles were white.
"Oh, and why would I do that?" said the one-legged man a bit sadistically. He never liked Snape and thought him useless. The man never imparted anything that was useful in the last war. Dumbledore's words notwithstanding.
"Because you know that I am Dumbledore's man. You know I am not a Death Eater," Snape stated as if speaking to a simple man.
"Yet you came to Voldemort's call," said Alastor in the same tone.
"I had to go. I'm the spy," the dour man said, sneering down his nose at the two men.
"How do we know you're the spy and not a Death Eater?" asked Xander in a pleasant voice.
"Because that is my job, you fool. I have to show up to be a spy. If you don't let me go, then I'm not going to be able to report back to Dumbledore to tell him what happened. And then Voldemort will know that I am the spy," Snape explained in a much harsher tone. He was between a rock and hard place. If he didn't let the old man know that You-Know-Who was back, and didn't report back to the Dark Lord, who he can feel calling, he was a dead man.
"And if I do let you go, how do I know you won't go back and report to Voldemort who I am?" Xander asked, leaning against the wall.
"He already knows who you are, you fool," Snape snapped, pressing his face to the bars. "He was here Potter's first year."
"Call me a fool one more time and see if I don't just kill you where you stand," the Wolf God stated, a growl in is throat.
With that Snape paled. "I need to get out of here," he said one more time. "I have to get back to report to Dumbledore what happened. He needs to know that the Dark Lord is back. He needs to know what happened at that graveyard." His tone was getting desperate.
"Tell me what happened there," Xander demanded.
"No, you are not my boss, nor my master," the greasy-haired man stated.
"I'm not letting you go back to tell your 'master' that my son can turn into a dragon and can do wandless magic. Do you think I'm a fool? Oh, never mind. You already do. Now I'm not letting you return to let anybody know this," the devoted father stated, though he knew Voldemort knew these things, he didn't know if Dumbledore would find out.
"You have my word that I will not let anybody know what happened with Harry Potter," the prisoner spat out the last two words as if they were corrosive to his tongue.
"Oh, I see you still do not like my son," Xander stated, standing from his position on the wall.
"How I feel about your son is irrelevant," Snape said, backing away. He didn't like the look in the man's eyes.
"I think it's very relevant," said Xander, stalking forward. "I think you're going to do everything you can to make his life miserable. And just for that, I think you can go to the goblin mines. Be you a spy or not." he added, coming up to the bars of the cell.
"You can't do this to me. I'm very vital to the process of the war," Snape said, by this time he was at the back of the cell.
"You're very vital to Dumbledore, but you're not vital to me. Give me a better reason to keep you going. Give me a vow," Xander demanded, his yellow eyes glowing. He didn't think the man would do it, but thought he'd offer anyway.
"I'm not making any vows to you," Snape said, disgust in his tone. There was no way he was going to make any vows to this man. That would give Harris something to hold over him.
"Off you go then," the other man said, gleefully. He turned and walked away.
Alastor was chuckling as he watched the antics. He was enjoying the show. Anything that took one more Death Eater off the field was good in his books. Dumbledore be damned.
"No, no, no. I'll make you a vow. I'll make you a vow," Snape said, hurrying forward to grasp the bars of the cell. He did not want to go to the mines.
"I want a vow from you that you will keep all of Harry Potter's secrets," the father demanded. It was going to be an all or nothing deal.
"I can't do that. It will jeopardize my other vows," the prisoner hedged. He wasn't above fenagling a better option.
"Bye then."
"Fine. I will make your vow," Snape said, trying to think of ways to fudge the vow.
"It will be on your life and your magic," Xander said, with menace. All or nothing.
"I refuse," Snape deadpanned. There would be no wiggle room with that type of vow.
"Goodbye then. Enjoy life as a miner," the King of the Goblins said, making Alastor start laughing aloud. And with that, Xander and Alastor walked away. There were no other chances. No matter how much Snape called for him. He would come back in a couple of days, maybe, but for now he was going to make the man suffer.
Hpbtvshpbtvs
Harry was released from the hospital wing about dinner time the next day. And once again, he was addressing the student body, this time with the foreign schools present. Madame Maxime and Headmaster Karkaroff were in attendance at the Teachers' Table an unaware as to what was about to happen.
"Now I know you visitors aren't used to this," said Xander as he and Harry stood in front of the head table. "But whenever something life threatening happens around here, we like to get it out of the way with a question-and-answer session so that gossip doesn't get as vicious as it usually does. So, Harry's going to tell you what happened to the best of his knowledge, and I'll answer questions from what I learned from the memories." He then waved his hand to Harry for him to start.
Harry told his story as best as he remembered, there were a few tears and some screams that happened during the retelling. And then Xander filled in the other parts, there were a lot more screams during his reciting, since it was heavier on the details.
Then it came time for questions.
One of the Ravenclaws raised their hands and said, "Does that mean that You-Know-Who's back?" There was a great deal of trepidation in his voice.
"I saw him with my own two eyes," said Harry, his tone firm. "Take that as you will." He knew there were going to be people who didn't believe him. There always were.
Many of the students were gasping and some of them cried. There were even a few screams in there. There were some doubtful faces and Harry sighed. He knew people were going to be in denial, just because it was safer in their minds. It was easier to believe that it was untrue than to have to fight a war.
"Everybody, calmed down," said Xander, holding up his hands for quiet and making calming gestures as well. "I know you're scared, and I know you're upset, but this is a reality that you're going to have to deal with. You are being trained in this school to get away from the bad guys. That includes Voldemort," he stated firmly.
He ignored the flinches and screams at the mention of the man's name. He had thought that he had drummed that out of them by now, but it seemed it was more real to them at the moment.
"How are we supposed to get away from You-Know-Who?" demanded someone in the student body.
"The same way you get away from anybody else, you fight, you run, you hide," said Moody, standing to be seen. "That's what Professor Slytherin and I have been teaching you," he added, his magical eye roaming over the student body like it was seeing into their souls.
"Next question," said Xander, moving things along. He wasn't going to be stuck on Voldyshorts all night.
One of the Weasley twins raised their hands and Xander pointed at them, hoping for something lighthearted.
"How many times have you hit yourself with that hand?" asked Fred, smirking at Harry, like he knew it had happened more than once.
"Twice now. I had an itch on my nose." Harry said, lifting the hand to rub his head in embarrassment and stopping just in time from hitting his head.
Everybody chuckled.
Luna raised her hand and asked, "What is your hand made of?"
"I'm not sure. It's some kind of metal, but I'm not sure what kind it is. I just made it," he confessed, knowing it was a magical metal, but not what kind. It seemed to be a living metal, since it could move, so there was that.
"And it can conduct magic?" she inquired, like a professional reporter.
"Yes."
"So, you can use it as a wand?" she asked as if this was a prearranged questioning.
"Yes."
"So, in essence, you're not doing wandless magic, you're using your hand as a conductor?" Luna concluded, sounding much more mature than her thirteen years. This was a question Xander had asked her to ask to throw off the fact that Harry could indeed use wandless magic.
"Yes," said Harry with a decisive nod of his head.
"Thank you," she said and sat back down.
"Any more questions?" Harris asked, looking at all the students and visitors.
"Is there any way we can get a good look at the hand?" asked Daphne Greengrass, not wanting to come up and gawk at the Boy Who Lived. That would be rude.
"We could take a picture of it, and have it passed around," said Xander, looking at Harry to see what he thought of the suggestion.
"Colin could do that," said Harry, even though the thought creeped him out. The question alone was just plain freaky, but he had done weirder things. A picture would be harmless.
Colin stood up with his camera, ready to come up there and do it right this very second. Xander waved him back down. "You can do that later," the wolfman said.
Colin sat back down with a grump.
One of the Bulgarians stood up and asked, "Did Voldemort give any indication of vat he vas going to be doing next?" He sounded scared.
"I didn't pay much attention to what he was saying. I was more concerned about my hand," said Harry. He sounded sorry that he didn't have any more information for the boy. He too wanted to know what the Dark Lord was up to.
"I paid attention to what he was saying and all he did was complain about the lack of attention his minions were paying to him. He didn't give any indication of what he was planning on doing next," said Xander, a look of disgust on his face. The Dork Lord was a whiny baby.
"So ve are in the dark then," said the boy from Durmstrang.
"Well, he's probably after what every other Dark Lord is after. To rule over England and then the world, so we should watch out for that," said the owner of Hogwarts with a great deal of sarcasm.
"Right," said the boy, and he sat back down.
"Are there any more questions?" Harris asked, looking around the room.
Draco Malfoy stood up and said, "Were you scared?"
"Very," said Harry.
Everybody giggled or laughed out right, as their personality dictated.
Harry lifted his hand and showed them the metal one and said, "You'd be scared too if somebody was there sawing off your hand."
That caused everybody to quiet down. Some even got queasy. There were one or two to throw up a bit in their mouths.
"That'll be the end of the questions for now," said Xander, glaring at Draco for his thoughtless question. He thought the boy would have matured by now. He guessed not, seeing as he was sneering at Harry.
And with that, Xander and Harry went and sat in their chairs. Xander at the Teachers' Table and Harry at the Gryffindor Table, and dinner was served.
Harry found it a little more difficult to eat with his metal hand than he would with his regular hand, because his fingers weren't quite as nimble as flesh and blood, but he got through his meal well enough.
His friends kept others from asking tactless questions, that included Ron. And dinner went off without a hitch.
Hpbtvshpbtvs
Harry decided he was going to experiment with Moody's leg the next day. He asked the man if he wanted to have a metal leg instead of his peg one and Moody said yes.
"Okay, this is going to feel weird," said Harry as they entered Harry's and Neville's room. "The metal is a little bit heavier than flesh and blood," he explained, hoping that the man was still interested in getting it done.
"Okay," said the one-legged man. "But it's got to be better than wood. It moves, doesn't it?" he asked, tired of thumping around everywhere.
"Yes, it moves just like regular muscle and bone," Harry agreed. Then he sat Moody down on his bed and took off the peg leg. Then put his hand on the man's knee and grew the metal leg from where the stump was and down. Stopping when the foot was grown.
Moody was fascinated with the sensation of something growing out of his leg. He could feel everything all the way down to the bottom of his foot. It was a strange thing because he had not felt anything there for years. He wiggled his toes, flexed his foot, bent his knee, and then stood. He took a tentative step forward and then stumbled. He stood back up straight and walked a couple more steps. It took a while but soon he was walking normally.
"This is bloody fantastic," he said all but jogging around the room.
"I'm glad you like it," said Harry, feeling good about himself. He had done something good.
"Can you do this with other people?" asked Moody. He knew a few others that needed a limb replaced. There were many people from the last war that had been handicapped due to the battles.
"Of course, I can," said Harry, though he was a bit leery meeting new people to do it too, he did want to help.
"Can you teach it?" was Alastor's next question. Maybe the boy would be more comfortable if someone else did the magic. He didn't know if others had the boy's power though. Perhaps if two or more people worked together…
"That, I'm not sure of," said Harry, rubbing his nose with his left hand. He had learned not to do it with his right.
"Go to Poppy and see if you can teach it to her," the now two-legged man said, getting excited again.
"I'll see what I can do," said Harry, leading them out of the room.
Everyone was happy for Mad-Eye, and they all congratulated the two on a job well done. There was a small impromptu party to celebrate. Mostly adults getting drunk, but the teenagers were there, not getting drunk, along with Xander, who didn't drink much. It lasted for an hour, and Xander sobered everyone up quickly.
Harry put it off till later that day, and then went to the hospital wing and to ask Poppy if she wanted to learn, but she was busy with Headmaster Karkaroff. He was fighting hard not to go to the call of Voldemort. He looked to be in a great deal of pain.
"What's going on?" asked the dark-haired teen, coming up to the duo.
"I am fighting the call," the headmaster said, gritting his teeth against the pain. "I promised I vould never return to him. It's going to kill me." He looked determined to not heed the call, so Harry made a choice.
"I can take your arm and grow a new one," offered Harry, hoping it was the right thing to do. Xander wasn't here to offer advice and there was no time to call him. The foreign headmaster hadn't been exactly nice to him, but he hadn't been mean to him either. He was making an on-the-fly call.
"You can do this?" asked Karkaroff, still holding off the pain, though there was now hope in his eyes. He wanted to live.
"I can," said Harry, firming his resolve.
"Do it," said the man.
And so, Harry sliced off his arm at the elbow, and grew him a new one. A metal one. "Make sure you wrap that when you go to sleep or you will wind up with a broken nose in the morning," said Harry in warning.
The headmaster's metal was a bit heavier than Harry's. Maybe because Harry was in a hurry, or because Harry didn't quite trust the man. Harry didn't know, but it wasn't the same metal as his. That and he didn't have the same fluidity as Harry. He could use it and use it as a wand, but it just didn't flow like Harry's.
The man was beside himself with joy that he did not have to answer the call of the Dark Lord, nor did he have to die. He was smiling and it looked weird on his face. Like he hadn't smiled in years and the face was going to crack like wax.
Harry wasn't sure whether he did the right thing. The man was a Death Eater, after all. So, he put a tracker type spell on the man to let him know if he ever did anything wrong. If Karkaroff ever did anything evil, then Harry would know, and he would come and take care of him. Or he would have Xander go take care of him. Arrest him or something. Either way, Karkaroff would not get off easy if he did something evil.