"No offense, sir, but I was top of the class at the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst. I may be a mere 'muggle,' but I could write a dissertation about all the holes in your so-called strategy," the field commander, General Jenkins, said rather bluntly as soon as Alastor finished telling him what to do with the two infantry battalions heading towards Hammersmith from Kensington. The two of them and Arabella Figg were standing atop a church roof Alastor had secured with both Dark-repelling and privacy charms, surveying the river and surrounding area.
"I have my reasons," Alastor said impatiently. Merlin, he hadn't planned for coordinating with the muggle government to be so bloody time-consuming and annoying. It probably wouldn't even help Confunding or Imperiusing the man, either, because these muggle military types had so many bloody codes and protocols, the second-in-command would probably notice something was up and lead a mutiny or something. Worse than the police, even.
"There's a time for fucking caution, and this" - he waved his arm at the flaming river - "isn't it. If you don't tell me why I have to go along with your ridiculous plan, I am taking this up the chain and calling in the airforce whether you like it or not. Seems to me we'll do this much faster, much safer, and much more effectively without your so-called help and expertise."
"You only think you know better than me. But the only way I'd tell you what you're asking when I haven't even told Rufus -" Alastor growled.
"That's his second-in-command," Arabella broke in.
"- is with an Unbreakable Vow," he finished.
"Fine. Let's do that."
"Woah, woah, woah! You can't break an Unbreakable Vow. If you try, you'll die!" Arabella explained.
General Jenkins blinked at her and raised his eyebrows. "I see how it got the name, then. I'm still not going to commit my men to a strategy that leaves fucking fairytale monsters within a few hundred meters of fifty thousand trapped civilians without an explanation as to why I can't just carpet bomb the area with precision strikes. It's not like these Inferi things have anti-aircraft weaponry. I can fly low and put my explosives exactly where I want them. And no, 'we need to be able to wipe everybody's memories afterwards' is not a valid explanation when this many lives are on the line. You want my cooperation, you tell me why this is a good idea. I won't make an Unbreakable Vow to go along with whatever you say, but I'm willing to make one not to divulge your secrets, if that's what it takes to get you fuckers to talk to me and treat me like an equal!"
"Ah, Merlin's bloody beard. I do not have time for this! You want to know the secret? Fine. Unbreakable Vow, and I am obliviating you personally when this is over. Arabella, if I die, get in touch with either Albus or the Potters to obliviate him. If all four of us die, then you kill him, got it?"
"What the fuck's wrong with you people? I make a potentially lethal magic promise, and you still threaten to kill me if you can't wipe my memory first? Why?"
"Because I won't take the risk of an enemy agent amongst the obliviators reading your mind afterwards, muggle or not, vow or no vow. The intelligence you're asking for is beyond classified."
"Why authorize only those four people?" Jenkins asked, voice laden with suspicion and nerves.
"They already know the secret. The only ones who know. You still want in?"
The general hesitated, then nodded firmly.
"Then you two hold hands. Arabella, I'll write lines for you to read. Jenkins, all you have to say is 'I will' to everything she tells you." Quickly, he wrote out the vow in the air, then laid his wand on their hands. "Acceptable?" Jenkins nodded, or at least jerked his head in a reasonable approximation of a head nod.
Arabella smiled reassuringly, though her face had whitened at the instruction to possibly kill the muggle. She nodded and took a breath. "WIll you swear not to reveal the existence of magic to any person who does not need to know for the purpose of fighting the Inferi in the river?"
"I will." A line of bright white magic snaked out of Alastor's wand to wrap around and bind their hands.
"Will you swear not to reveal what Alastor and I are about to tell you regarding the reasons for our current strategy to anyone, even other witches and wizards, by any means?"
"I will." A second coil joined the first.
"Will you swear to accept obliviation of this information only from Alastor Moody, Fleamont Potter, Euphemia Potter, or Albus Dumbledore on pain of death at my hand?"
"I will."
The third ring of the vow wrapped around the hands. The magic glowed brighter for a moment, then went out. Arabella shook General Jenkins' hand and let go.
"Right. Explain."
"I have a man on the inside. That's the secret only we six including you know." Everyone else who ever knew had been obliviated of the information, including Hagrid and the two McKinnon survivors. "He told me about the Inferi ahead of time. The enemy is using this attack as a feint to tie up my people while they hit two strategic targets. The first of these murder missions is likely already underway and will, unfortunately, be successful because I don't have the details of it. The second is the more important one, though. They're planning to murder my boss."
"Basically our combined Deputy Minister, Minister of State for Crime and Policing, and Secretary of War," Arabella explained quickly.
"Which would be a disaster for our side. Our government is small and would most likely collapse sometime in the next month or so if they succeed. The ambush is supposed to happen tomorrow night, and I fully intend to turn the trap against them. But I can't do that if we clean up the Inferi too quickly, because the enemy will change his plans on me. If his strategy changes and schedule accelerates to compensate for our actions, I will be in a bind. I will have to decide whether to lose this battle against the Inferi, or risk losing the war. Or he could just change tacks completely and decide to go after my aurors here and forget my boss for now, if he thinks he missed his opening. And trust me, you don't want a full-out wizarding battle in London. I certainly don't want it."
Jenkins nodded slowly, then frowned. "You proposed to arrange my forces that way so you will be free to abandon us when the time comes."
"To put it bluntly, yes. You will not be without magical assistance, but I will need my aurors with me. I'm not just using you as a meat shield, General. Right now, the enemy is using the Inferi to harass us, to keep us in place, and I am letting him do that so that we can be fully prepared when he sends them all out of the water after us tomorrow night. We will take tonight and tomorrow to get as many civilians out of here as we can, get your men into the most advantageous position possible, and bring up all the equipment you need. That way you will be fully prepared to deal with the threat the way you see fit."
"Flame throwers, fire bombs, grenades, depth charges, whatever you want," Arabella added. "The enemy is watching us, but his spies won't really understand what your people are doing."
Jenkins grunted. "I don't like this. It's still shady as hell bringing us into your war and then wiping our memories afterwards."
"It will be your war if I lose mine," Alastor pointed out unsympathetically. "And you'll still have your memories wiped by the other side, and they'll probably think it's funny to make your lot fight a civil war amongst yourselves. It's happened before."
"Christ."
"The memory thing is international law since 1689," Arabella said gently. "And the Prime Minister's been aware of us the whole time."
"Our Prime Minister is incompetent."
"Actually, he's not," she corrected. "A lot of the stuff he's criticized for is our fault. Well, the enemy's fault. All those gas explosions, the increase in the murder and missing persons rates, the rabid dogs attacks popping up everywhere, that abandoned mine explosion in Wiltshire, the deadly riots this winter, that big fire at the Clash concert, the hostage situation at the cricket match..."
Jenkins' eyes widened. "Those were all cover stories?"
"Pretty much. I mean, the murders were murders, but a lot of them were our people."
The muggle general eyed her. "And yet you're still 'Down with Labour'? Won't it be harder for you lot to have to bring a new PM up to speed?"
That was the slogan on Arabella's T-shirt. She shrugged. "I needed help to get hold of two hundred barrels of oil to secretly spread along the riverbanks last night and blow up in that warehouse over there. Antigovernmental radicals are the easiest to find and convince for that kind of thing, since I couldn't tell anyone what I was actually doing it for."
"And you don't even have any magic... You're like MI-5, ma'am." He sounded genuinely impressed for the first time since being told the existence of magic. Ironic, that.
Arabella grinned and winked at him. "Just so. Don't be hard on Alastor. He's bound by the law and trying to do right by you. He could just get you to go along with his plan with magic, you know."
"He could?"
She nodded, face sobering. "Memory charms are the least of the mind magics. The Death Eater who was here raising the Inferi, well, I was watching with binoculars in order to time the fire right. I'll just say the nine girls he killed to do it didn't struggle one bit, just bowed down to him and let him cut into them."
Jenkins shuddered, then looked at Alastor. "I still don't like what you're doing, but I understand it. The group you're fighting... they're evil. I'll help however I can. I'll still have recommendations for how to improve your plan, though."
"Thank you. I will take them into consideration. Arabella, stick with him. You're my liaison."
"...Can we maybe get her a change of clothes so it doesn't look like I've got a civilian radical following me around all day?"
"Want her to have a uniform?" Alastor offered, taking out his wand.
"No, no, everyone would realize I'm not actually military when I fail to salute and so on," Arabella said. "Put me in a pant suit. Nice and ambiguous."
Alastor shrugged and transfigured her clothing into a dark blue suit for her. It was closer fitting than her shapeless jacket had been, and she had to catch the small picture frame that fell out of the shrunken pocket. Alastor caught the edge of her suit jacket and put an extension charm on the pocket so she could fit his portrait back in. The portrait knew to rotate only between Alastor himself, Albus, Arabella, and Sirius today. Everyone else in the Order would have to use other means of communication.
"You carry a picture of him everywhere you go?" Jenkins blurted, seeing it.
"Communication. It can't be bugged." Arabella informed him, tucking the scowling portrait away. She grinned. "Give me one of yours, and I'll carry it too. It can be my decoy."
Alastor rolled his eye. "I'll take you two back to your command tent, then I'm out. Rufus will have my head for dawdling so long anyway."
Sirius spent the whole afternoon with his body sprawled in a chair at Headquarters but his mind and vision flitting amongst the Inferi down in London. Within twenty minutes, the squib had set another fire along the north bank, trapping the vast majority of the Inferi in the water. This was followed by smears of flaming oil periodically poured and lit upriver to float down through the Inferi-infested area, refueling the fiery barriers and generally limiting the Inferi's above-water movements. He figured the squib must be working with muggle authorities by now to get that done. Indeed, when he quickly spied on the operation after an hour or so of redirecting his Inferi ever farther up- and downstream, there was a military-looking muggle boat overseeing the operation to pour out the next several barrels of oil into the river. There was also a pile of abandoned and smoldering picket signs littering the area around the burning warehouse on the south bank that looked to be the source of the initial explosion. A closer look at the picket signs revealed them to be criticizing the current muggle Prime Minister.
"Interesting," he said out loud. Voldemort had told him to speak up about any new developments.
"What?"
"They dropped the original Protego horribilis in the river in favor of more fire, probably because it only contained about a third of the Inferi anyway, and expanding the sphere further would defeat the purpose by enclosing muggles inside with the Inferi. The Ministry is struggling enough they seem to have coopted muggle military and emergency responders to a degree. Although the first fire seems to have been accidental," no need for Voldemort to question a serendipitous political demonstration, "and there are muggles fighting it, other muggles are now setting more fires along the north bank, further upstream, and some on the river surface itself. I bet they're using muggle please-men to keep the crowds contained and protected, too. Probably re-erected the Protego horribilis directly around them. That's harder to ascertain from where my eyes are, though. The aurors are quick to pursue any Inferi they spot on land."
"That must be why they haven't sent out the obliviation conscription notices yet," Voldemort mused. "The Ministry does not wish to risk our own civilians against the undead while the situation is so uncontrolled, and instead they leave more muggles at risk. How hypocritical of them. But it matters not. They do not realize that mere muggle slaughter is not my aim. Fools. They are playing into our hands with their caution. Don't send too many of your Inferi after the crowds where they'll be easily spotted and potentially trapped by wards to be culled, then. Keep most of them in the water, and send out just enough at a time to keep the aurors constantly busy and harried without making the chase too easy. Increase your rate of attack if the Ministry seems inclined to pull any aurors away."
Basically what Sirius was already doing. "Yes, my Lord."
"Watch the banks carefully. It is possible to modify the Protego horribilis barrier to fit an irregular area using warding stones. Immediately kill anyone you see placing stones along the bank. The last thing we want is for our army to get caught under another area ward, so we will prevent even the attempt."
"Yes, my Lord."
The Dark Lord sounded especially pleased when he added, "I do appreciate the aurors' caution. This way, you'll have more in reserve to release when we go after Crouch. Keep track of where the Ministry is containing the muggles to be obliviated. You can target them later at the most opportune moment."
Sirius nodded and dearly hoped the Ministry sent out the general obliviation notices soon. Contrary to what he just told the Dark Lord, he did have eyes on two cordoned off areas full of nervous muggles on either side of the river, from one avatar's vantage point atop the Hammersmith Bridge. The perimeters were mostly manned by muggle soldiers, with aurors on the river-facing side and occasional other wizards and witches in Ministry robes on the city-facing sides, mostly clustered around what looked like command tents and designated exits. There must be some obliviators working there, as there was a steady stream of muggles leaving the area, mostly in their flashy healing vans. The numbers of those leaving was dwarfed by the massive size of the crowds, though.
Probably, the Office of Obliviation was frantically revising its conscription lists in order to summon only those civilians who had also passed a Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T. or something. Defense against Inferi was not covered until sixth year at Hogwarts.
His suspicions were confirmed after another hour as the sun was setting on the Thames and a courier brought one of the new obliviation letters for Lord Voldemort to review.
"Finally," Voldemort grumbled. "I was starting to think Bella and Antonin would finish up their mission before the Ministry even called up the reserves... Ah, but these are rather different from what has gone before." He laughed, the high and cruel one. "Listen to this, Rodolphus,"
"Dear Mr. Burke,
This is an official Ministry alert. Dark creatures known as Inferi have been detected in the Hammersmith area. All residents and business owners in Greater London are instructed to remain inside and lock their doors, or to leave the city via apparition or the floo network. If you see an Inferius, you should retreat immediately or if necessary defend yourself and your family with fire spells (see verso for list of appropriate incantations and wand movements). The Ministry will provide additional updates regarding this evolving situation as necessary.
Signed,
Millicent Bagnold
Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic"
Voldemort snorted. "They included Incendio, really? And that illustration is atrocious. The state of our government is truly deplorable if this is the best advice they can give in a crisis of this magnitude." Sirius was mostly surprised it had taken the Ministry so long to issue the notice. Although he supposed it probably arrived at Borgin and Burke's shop earlier. The Dark Lord was right, though. The first-year fire spell was not nearly strong enough to take down an Inferius, particularly a waterlogged one. The Dark Lord read the second letter.
"Dear Mr. Burke,
You are hereby summoned to the Ministry of Magic immediately, on this day the 25th of March. Report directly to the Office of Obliviation. Failure to report may result in a fine of 20 galleons if you do not file the appropriate exemption (enclosed) within seven days. See verso for list of approved exemptions; other reasons for exemption will be considered on a case-by-case basis. Falsification of exemption paperwork will result in additional fines and possible legal action.
Signed,
Millicent Bagnold
Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic"
"Well, I suppose the Ministry doesn't think it's fair to force civvies to fight Inferi," Rodolphus chuckled.
"What counts as an exemption?" Sirius asked curiously. Even as he asked, he fingered his third ring to redirect a cluster of Inferi that had gotten past the fires and was getting dangerously close to a train station. There were an auror and a dozen muggle soldiers guarding it, but if the Inferi happened to overpower them and make their way underground, Sirius would basically lose control of them until and unless he could somehow track them down visually again. Since he had not given the Inferi a boundary to adhere to, the only ways he could stop them remotely if that happened would be by drawing the magic back out of them at some point or summoning all the Inferi to his own physical location. Much better for the aurors to find them, rather than the other way around.
"Let's see... inability to cast any of the fire spells in the other letter..."
"Are the obliviators recruiting squibs now?" someone laughed.
"Also presence of children or other unqualified household members in London who need supervision and protection from the Inferi. Blindness or deafness, or physical disability. Pregnancy. Inability to apparate. Basically whatever possible safety concerns some bureaucrat could list off the top of their head." There was a rustle of paper as he handed the sheets back to whoever gave it to him. "As usual, our people should comply with the letter of the law. Anyone who qualifies for one of these exemptions should of course apply for it."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Sirius, how goes the distraction?"
"The Ministry has gotten more organized, and they're definitely cooperating with the muggle government, but they haven't reduced my numbers significantly yet. And I've discovered someone erected two more Protegos Horribilis, just downstream of the fire barriers. I've diverted more Inferi upstream."
"Send an avatar to watch for one upstream too, and get as many Inferi out of the river as you reasonably can without losing too many. Use sewers too. They're probably planning to cap the ends and corral you in. Keep a close eye on things until full dark. The aurors and muggle army will both be disadvantaged then, so you can dine with Bella and rest tonight. If all goes well, we will strike Crouch tomorrow night."
Alastor stood with Rufus on the riverbank, watching tensely for the next Inferius to surge out of the water. The first hour was of course the worst, with one hundred and twenty-seven muggles either drowned or torn apart before the aurors and muggle police had pulled all the civilians off the boats and back from the banks. Alastor had lost an auror and five hit wizards to the creatures during the chaotic evacuation. They had since reached an unpleasant steady state with the Inferi over the course of the last few hours. Just as the aurors and muggle military dug in and reinforced their own positions, the Inferi settled into the river and adjacent sewers like crocodiles, ready to spring out and bite the unwary. And they did, every few minutes pressing into a gap in the fires and wards or mounting the naval vessels manning the fire stations. There were thirty dead muggle soldiers added to the tally, another twenty injured, and two more aurors sent to St. Mungo's. None of the casualties were in the last hour, thank Merlin. Hopefully, the improving trend would continue now that all the necessary pieces were in place. There were no more single-manned stations. Aurors on the front line were doubled up, and every muggle unit inside the perimeter had at least one witch or wizard with them.
An intelligence - Sirius' intelligence - still guided the creatures and made them hard to catch. By the same token, he was sure Sirius had likely averted worse ambushes and infiltrations where he could. It was a waiting game, and apart from the initial worse-than-expected bloodbath with the foundered muggle boats, the evening was now going according to plan. The obliviations had even commenced. They started with the injured muggles, but they'd be moving on to regular civilians soon enough. They were doing a staged obliviation this time. Muggle police were currently sorting through the civilians, stratifying them according to how much they'd actually seen, how much would therefore have to be obliviated. That was Arabella's suggestion although they decided to attribute it to General Jenkins both to divert any attention from Arabella and enhance Jenkins' standing with the other Ministry departments. Hopefully, by saving the more extensive obliviations for last, they'd get the numbers down to something more manageable by tomorrow night.
The pair had been standing on the riverbank covering a fifty meter gap in the firewall pending the arrival of more oil for almost twenty minutes when the Inferi finally came for them. Six this time, pale bodies in varying states of decay, some bloated with water and decomposition, some more skeletal, surging out of the murky water onto the cinders. They were quick, crawling up towards him and Rufus on all fours like wild animals. Their white eyes glowed faintly in the gathering darkness. He and Rufus raised their wands in tandem and blew a wall of flame down the steep bank. The monsters made no sound as their flesh caught fire except for the clattering of dead bones. The four closest to the river fled back into the water, unfortunately still intact enough to attack again in a few minutes or an hour. One of the others collapsed on the way to the water, its body fully incinerated in the inferno. The last continued up the bank, even as the skin and muscle blackened and peeled off the bones. Its knee and elbow joints finally failed a bare two meters from where Alastor and Rufus stood. Having reached mostly level ground, it managed to extinguish the flames with the disjointed writhing of its torso. The body had been fresher than most and carried a lot of water in its swollen tissues. Disgusted, Alastor landed another fireball on it and held the flame until there was nothing but ash.
"This isn't going to end any time soon," Rufus said bleakly as they resumed their surveillance. "You realize the Death Eaters are planning something, don't you? We were caught off guard and too slow at the start of this. And now we're stuck here, playing hide-and-seek with these things, conserving our energy and relying on muggles. When You-Know-Who makes his move... You're going to have a nasty decision to make, Alastor."
"I know."
"And I think you've already made it."
"Have I?"
Rufus jerked his thumb back towards the muggle encampment. "You have that general building himself a fortress over there. That implies you think the Inferi could well attack his position, despite our efforts here."
"Constant vigilance," Alastor grunted.
"Quite. I don't disapprove, Alastor. I just hope we get enough of a warning when it all goes to shit that your gamble pays off."
"My gamble?"
"We could have burned and blasted a lot more of these things out of here if you'd authorized a more aggressive strategy from the start."
"If I had, we wouldn't have a hundred and fifty dead muggles on our hands right now. We'd have five hundred. More. Some of them dead from our wands."
"You might still," Rufus said cryptically. "Your General Jenkins might be smart, but he's a muggle in a wizard's duel."
"No, he's a muggle battling creatures that can only be defeated with fire or complete dismemberment. Those are modes of attack well within the capabilities of muggles, even hundreds of years ago, and they're no longer relying on swords and torches in this day and age. If the Inferi get past us, I'm sure he'll manage."
They lapsed into silence again. They watched as one of the other teams across the river and a little downstream beat back another group of Inferi. "When do you think he will make his move?" Rufus asked eventually.
"I don't know. Before we're anywhere near done here."
"That could be days at this rate. We don't have enough aurors to man barriers this long and dive down to clear the riverbed itself. And Flitwick says that drought charm Robards suggested won't work on a river unless you want him to dry out half the country."
"It could and probably will be days, yes. We should follow the muggles' example and plan to eat and sleep in shifts, just in case."
Rufus chuckled darkly. "Slow us down even further. I'd like to see you try sending one of our aurors home to sleep on a night like this."
"Then they can kip in the muggle encampment. But rest they will. For all we know, depriving us of sleep is part of that bastard's plan."
"True. Want me to draw up a schedule next time we break for you to make your rounds?"
"Please."
There was a crack of apparition behind them. Both Alastor and Rufus spun around with raised wands, although Alastor kept his magical eye on the river. The person he saw was not someone he expected, but his pocket sneakoscope remained silent, at least. It wasn't polyjuice. Could be Imperius. "Gideon? Why aren't you at your post?"
"Longbottoms are covering for me and Fabian," Gideon answered. His voice was thick, with more than just stress. Rufus must have heard it too, lighting his wand silently. The harsh white light illuminated tear trails down the younger auror's cheeks.
"What's happened?"
"You-Know-Who attacked his real target."
"Where?" Alastor asked quickly. "Are the Death Eaters still there?"
"They're gone. They hit my great-aunt Muriel's place. My sister saw the Mark from the top floor of her house in Ottery St. Catchpole. My brother-in-law went over to check before she could stop him. He's fine. My aunt's dead."
"Why?" Rufus blurted indelicately. Alastor understood his confusion, of course. Raising nigh a thousand Inferi in London was a bit extreme as a distraction to target one aging spinster in Devon, not to mention Muriel Prewett was pureblood.
"She was hiding muggleborns," Gideon said. "Had a dozen living with her last I heard."
Alastor winced. He'd known Madam Prewett had offered her home as a safehouse, but he hadn't realized how much use it was getting. "Also dead?" he asked softly.
"Nine are, according to Arthur. He's not sure if the other three had moved on before or were taken."
"I'm sorry, Gideon. Where's Fabian?"
"With Arthur. At Muriel's. He went as soon as Arthur's patronus told us while I called Longbottoms over and came here."
"I'll still need you both, if you can manage it. Take two hours to move the bodies, re-secure the house, and make sure the rest of your family is safe. Then come back here."
Gideon nodded and apparated away.
Alastor turned back to the river. After a moment, so did Rufus. "A dozen muggleborns. That's a whole Hogwarts dormitory floor. Terrible loss." Alastor nodded silently. "Guess sleep deprivation wasn't part of the plan after all," his second-in-command commented jadedly.
"So it would seem," Alastor said. They watched another cascade of fire on the other side of the river, this time upstream, right close to the bridge.
"Too bad we're already entrenched for the long haul here. At least we won't have to keep the whole bloody Ministry on high alert for the duration."
Alastor did not respond to that, content to neither confirm nor deny Rufus' conclusions. At least the meat of the operation was still going according to plan, he consoled himself. He only wished the Death Eaters' feint had had a lower body count.
Dolohov returned to headquarters at eight thirty. "Success, my Lord. Bella has three captives at Lestrange manor."
"Excellent. Sirius, any updates?"
"Nothing has changed."
"Then you are done with that for the night. You've more than earned a rest."
"Yes, my Lord." He directed all eight Inferi avatars still in the river to sink down to the bottom. He took one last look around the area through the one atop the Hammersmith Bridge, mindful of any wizards and witches in the vicinity, then had her dive down into the water as well rather than risk losing her in the night if some auror decided to make use of the same vantage point. He could always get up early to reclaim the position before dawn. He withdrew his mind from the horde and blinked in the light of the many candles that had been lit since he last took a break. It was much brighter here than over the Thames, even with the still-raging fires. Plus, the night vision of an Inferius was very different from a living human's, perceiving heat and life and magic rather than light.
Most of the other Death Eaters who had been present earlier had left at some point. Besides Voldemort, only Rodolphus and Nott remained. Sirius slowly rose from his chair, twisting a little to stretch his neck and back after sitting so still for so long. He followed the others out of the building.
"You are eating dinner vit Lestranges' too, Lord Nott?" Dolohov asked.
"Oh, I wouldn't miss this," Nott said with a raspy laugh and a wink at Sirius. Sirius had a sudden terrible feeling he knew what "treat" Bella had in store for him.
"He practically begged Bella for an invitation," Rodolphus said.
"I had no idea your table vas such very popular, Dolph."
"Well, you know how it is. Sometimes, a wife just has the urge to throw a dinner party. And she knew her cousin would be... hungry... after his long day. You know, our house elf misses having you around, Sirius. And it's been so long since you've been for dinner, I'm sure Posy will have cooked all your favorites in anticipation."
"That will be nice," Sirius said blandly. Rodolphus smiled at him a moment, and disapparated home. Not having an excuse to go somewhere else, Sirius followed him, and the Dark Lord appeared at his side a split-second later. The five of them walked into the manor to find not only Bellatrix waiting for them but also Uncle Cygnus and Lucretia Malfoy, beneath an honest-to-Merlin "Happy Anniversary, Sirius" banner.
"Siri! There you are!" Bella trotted forwards and kissed his cheek. "Happy Anniversary! We're having a party and everything! Six courses and after dinner entertainment. Isn't it wonderful? Can you believe it's been a whole year since you joined us?"
"Well, calendars don't lie, I suppose." He surveyed the blood red banner and smirked at Bella. "Didn't occur to me to count the anniversary of moving in with you, considering I moved out again, though."
"You'll always have a home with us if you want it, Siri," Bella said firmly.
"Which is sweet, but still not how anniversaries work. I should have commemorated my expulsion instead. Or waited until next month for when I was Marked."
"We can have another party next month," Bella said brightly, undeterred by logic as per usual. "A bigger one. It'll be great! Cissy will come for that one, I'm sure. She was supposed to be here tonight, but she's having such terrible headaches and whatnot at this stage of the pregnancy, she didn't want to stay up too late..." Bella chattered continuously while serving up drinks to the newcomers and hovering a plate of hors d'oeuvres around the room. Voldemort grew quickly bored of the small talk and went to sit near the fire. Dolohov and Nott likewise moved around the hostess to talk to Cygnus. Lucretia and Rodolphus remained where they were, though only Rodolphus seemed genuinely interested in listening to his wife's words. Sirius was just glad he wasn't required to say much at this party supposedly in his honor.
Posy called them to dinner soon enough, since it was already so late. Sirius mostly ignored the dinner conversation, while making all the right noises to pretend he was listening. He spent a lot of time staring at the wine decanter, debating whether it would be better to be drunk or sober for what he was sure was coming after dinner. Drunk won. Drunk enough to keep his hands from shaking under the Dark Lord's scrutiny, not so drunk he couldn't control his magic or his expressions.
Sure enough, when Posy cleaned up the dessert plates, Bella not-very-discreetly crept out of the room, giggling to herself all the way, and returned minutes later with a paralyzed, bound, blindfolded, and gagged middle-aged, dark-skinned wizard. She floated him onto the table. Nott's expression brightened in anticipation. Bella beamed at Sirius. "Here's your present, Cousin! I told you I'd get you a nice mudblood to play with next time you came to dinner!"
Sirius raised his eyebrows, smiled as widely as he could, and downed the rest of his wine. "Is that the after dinner entertainment?"
She nodded happily. "We only needed two captives from the raid tonight, one for me to use tomorrow, and one for Anton. But I promised you I'd get you one, and I don't break promises, Siri. Even if my insistence did get up Anton's nose."
"No stopping her," Rodolphus grunted proudly, and clinked glasses with a rather surly looking Dolohov.
"While I do appreciate your thoughtfulness, isn't it a bit gauche to ask the guest to perform?" he asked, even as he drew his wand. Bella, Rodolphus, Cygnus, and even the Dark Lord snorted. "Sure you don't want to keep this one alive?"
Bella shrugged. "There's no one else who can use it tomorrow, and no other reason to keep it. It's yours. Have fun, Siri!"
Sirius smiled again, softer this time. He vanished the wizard's gag, then broke the full body-bind curse and immediately replaced it with a half body-bind. The man groaned and squirmed, futiley. "What is your name, mudblood?" Sirius asked.
The man's head snapped towards his voice. "Got to hell, Death Eater," he spat.
"How uncivil. You should know, you are in the presence of the Dark Lord himself. Few get the honor to die like this." The man blew a raspberry. Sirius grinned, liking him instantly. He held that feeling; he would need it to sustain the grin. "Imperio. Tell me your name. And for Merlin's sake stop wriggling." Scream but do not feel the pain that is coming. That is the only gift I can give you.
"...My name is Salim Hussein Sarwar."
"Do you mind if I ruin your tablecloth, Bella?" Sirius asked. There was no reason to drag this out longer than necessary.
"Oh, I insist you ruin my tablecloth," she purred.
Sectumsempra. Salim screamed as blood spurted from a half-dozen deep slashes. Lucretia screamed too, although she quickly regained control of herself and assumed a passable mask of excitement and surprise instead of alarm and disgust. Voldemort and Cygnus conjured panes of glass to block the blood spatters. Everyone else got at least a little blood on them. Sirius started transfiguring, faster than he had before. Fingers to breadsticks. Arms to rows of sandwiches and elbows to apples. Shoulder of cabbage. Shoes of trouts. Legs of golden, beef Wellingtons lying amid stacks of roasted mushrooms that used to be robes. He sliced into the abdomen and turned the open body cavity into a basket of different kinds of cheeses. The chest became a full-English breakfast. And the head... he stared at the dead, accusing eyes.
He became suddenly aware of the quiet in the room, now that Salim had stopped screaming. Everyone, even Lucretia, was leaning forwards in their chairs, watching intently to see what he would do.
He didn't want to continue. He didn't want to take that final step of reducing a brave wizard to a pile of objects to be discarded later. He wanted to get out of here, run back into the night. Go hide with the Averys. Well no, he wanted to run to the Potters as he had when he was fifteen. Or turn into Padfoot, fun into the wilderness, and never change back. He couldn't, though. He couldn't stop.
The dark, staring eyes turned into snail shells. The cheeks were dark red plums, the nose an aubergine... He changed his mind and shook his head slightly. The partially transfigured face turned smooth, glassy, and red. Salim's head shrank down, and the surface rippled and grew ridges and facets. It became a lustrous ruby the size of his fist. He picked it up, and looked into the depths. With a tap of his wand, he added a tiny, golden flaw in the center of the gem. Even if Salim had not been Sorted into Gryffindor when he was a student, he certainly qualified. At least there would be something to return to his family.
"Restarting your collection, Siri?" Bella asked.
He shrugged and pocketed the stone. "My old ones all burned up with Malfoy Manor." Lucretia frowned.
"You were right, Bella, it is an entertaining spectacle to observe," Voldemort said.
"He's amazing. Makes me wish I had studied harder in Transfigurations at Hogwarts. Siri, do the painting with the blood again."
Sirius obliged, prodding the crimson stain to rearrange itself, first into an elaborate pattern on the tablecloth, then shooting up to the ceiling to become a portrait of Bella. She clapped delightedly. He twisted his wand again, and the portrait twisted into the Black family crest.
"I'm serious, Sirius, you could take commissions with this. Would you consider performing at my wedding reception?" Nott said appreciatively.
"Some vedding you're planning," Dolohov laughed, pouring himself another glass of wine.
"Very nice," Voldemort said drily. "Whenever did the heir Black encounter the works of Arcimboldo?"
"Who?" Rodolphus asked.
"A muggle painter who lived and died several centuries ago, famous for his surreal portraits of faces constructed out of fruit."
Perhaps more importantly, when did Lord Voldemort encounter him? Sirius merely shrugged. "Never knew the artist's name. I saw a reproduction once on the cover of a book one of the Gryffindor mudbloods brought to school. You must admit, the imagery is striking, even if a muggle came up with it first."
"It is. Perhaps next time, you might try your hand at Picasso."
"Is that another artist?"
Voldemort nodded and conjured an image of a... very odd painting indeed. It almost looked like a child had drawn it, with its bright colors and complete lack of realism, except there was clear, sophisticated purpose behind the strangeness. There was a person in the image, possibly even more than one, but...
"Looks like a Colovaria and a Transmogrifian," Nott said.
Voldemort blinked and looked again at his own conjuration. "It does, doesn't it?" He dropped the illusion. "Regardless, there are numerous art styles our young friend could explore in future. It is quite the creative murder method, I must say. Bella, thank you for dinner. Sirius, thank you for the entertainment. As it is now nearing midnight, I am going to retire, and I suggest the rest of you do as well, since we have rather important plans tomorrow."
Author's note: having a muggle making an Unbreakable Vow is definitely sketch... but I couldn't resist, and the only person in the Vow who explicitly has to use magic in book 6 is the Binder, which is Moody. I just really wanted a muggle general to be like, "but why not big bomb?" and refuse to take "because" for an answer. It is the obvious solution, after all. Protego Horribilis is one of the protective enchantments Flitwick casts around the Hogwarts grounds in Book 7, basically a barrier against Dark creatures. I did not make it actually disintegrate them as happened in the movie, for obvious reasons. The Hogwarts grounds is only estimated to be about 30 acres from what I've found online (doesn't include more than the edge of the Dark Forest), which is really not all that big when you consider that Hammersmith, the district that administers the Hammersmith and Foulton Borough, is 4.3 square miles according to Wikipedia. With 640 acres/sq mile, that comes out to 2752 acres. Obviously, not all of that is right next to the river and involved in this, but you get the idea. There's a lot of ground to cover, and it would probably take Flitwick, Dumbledore, and a bunch of aurors working together to erect a perfect Protego Horribilis big and strong enough to contain all the Inferi after they started spreading out. Plus I made it harder with the whole sphere thing. In conclusion, fire is cheaper.
You're welcome for the extra long chapter. I considered breaking it up when I realized how incredibly big it was getting, but there just wasn't a good cutoff.
Thank you for the reviews, and look for the next installment next week.