CH11: Suffering in Success
August 3rd
9:21pm
Diagon Alley, London
Jeremy
"I hear the Dark Lord's on a tear," the man beside him, Clark, divulged, "ripped up you-know-where something fierce." Their footsteps along the cobbled lane filled the eerie silence that had engulfed the side street that warm night. "Malfoy copped it."
"Have we decided who took the gold?" Jeremy asked curiously. Merely hours after the news had reached Malfoy Manor, rumours began spreading about the true events that occurred at Gringotts. Some went as far as to say Dumbledore was involved, no one could substantiate anything though.
"Nah," Clark replied as though he couldn't care less. "The big man will find out eventually, what's time for an immortal after all."
Jeremy kicked a loose stone absentmindedly and probed his partner again. "Do you think the loyalists stole it?" Clark barked a short laugh at that. 'He always seems to think something is funny, but losing all of our gold is no joking matter.'
"I think we'd know if they somehow attempted to break into the most secure location in magical Britain," his companion explained as he came to a stop, the dim light of the new moon illuminating his face under its hood. His strong facial features were fixed in an amused expression as he drew his wand. "Methinks the Goblins staged the attack and ran off with all our gold, they haven't been seen topside since."
"Seems likely," Jeremy said with finality as he too drew his wand.
Clark stepped up to the door of the house they had stopped out and loudly hammered his fist three times before stepping back once more. From inside the home, a crash was heard, followed by hurried steps and rapid whispering. Finally, after a minute had passed, the round door handle twisted and the door slowly opened. A man's head peaked around the ajar door, mid thirties, dusty brown hair and a raggedy beard.
"Evening sir, is there a Benjamin Waters staying at this residence?" Clark asked politely.
"No!" The raggedy man exploded too quickly and too passionately, and he knew it. "I mean, no, no Benjamin Waters here."
"No? How about his wife, Ruby Waters? Or perhaps his two children Lucy and Geoff," Clark continued mercilessly down the list on a scrap of parchment. "You see they weren't on the Hogwarts express this year and we have received several concerned letters about the whereabouts of this family." Of course, those letters were concerned that filthy half breeds were running amuck, not that they might be in danger.
Benjamin Waters was a wild animal backed into a corner and like an animal, he lashed out violently. "You won't take them!" The defiant cry of a desperate father shattered as he fumbled with his wand instead of drawing it.
"Stupefy." Benjamin Waters fell, unconscious, in his own doorway with a small thud.
"Benji!" Ruby Waters cried out. Jeremey couldn't see her down the dark entrance way. But as Clark raised his wand towards her in a defensive manner, he imagined the Waters wife had not taken the assault on her husband kindly.
"Quiet woman, or I'll kil- grhlhh…"
"Clark?"
Jeremy turned to look at his friend and found him not alone, but a figure clad in all black clothing grabbing hold of Clark's curly hair. The cloak-less figure pulled back with his other hand and Clark let out another gurgle, this one accompanied by a sound that resembled a spray of water. In the new moon light, Jeremy identified a blade in the figure's hand, glistening with a deep black substance. Clark stumbled to the ground, clutching at his throat.
Jeremy stepped forward almost subconsciously, a hand outstretched in some vain attempt to help his fallen friend. But even if he had bested this assailant and had the required medical knowledge to maybe save his life, it would still not be so. Jeremy, in his shock, had not considered a second attacker until his wand was swatted from his hand and his neck enveloped in a strong arm. He fought back for a minute, his survival instincts flaring to life. He kicked, he screamed but his attacker was no fool. They brought their free hand over his head to lock him in place, all the while squeezing tighter around his throat. His brain lacked oxygen and he began to lose his will to fight. A part of him thought to beg and plead, he'd do so for his life, but his attacker hadn't given him the chance and showed no signs that they would change that stance. Tears flowed freely down his face and black spots clouded his vision.
'Tired,' he deliriously thought, 'so tired.'
He closed his eyes, and slept.
August 3rd
9:32pm
Diagon Alley, London
Harry
Wiping his blade clean of blood, Harry looked up to see Daphne laying her mark down on the ground. He'd taken the bigger of the two, a blade to the throat being the equaliser in their disparity of size and strength.
"Why not use magic?" His casual tone likely added to the fright of the family fussing over their husband/father. "Surely it would've been easier?"
"I thought he'd go down quickly," she replied, equally nonchalant, "I think it's time I get myself a blade."
"You miss it," Harry accused her, his tone laced with amusement. He crouched down and began to rummage through the dead Death Eater's pockets. When she didn't reply he stopped and found her doing the same with her kill but making a notable effort to not look at him. "You do!"
"It is an incredibly well crafted dagger," she returned defensively before admitting, "I do admit that its loss is… regrettable." Harry laughed.
"Who are you two?"
Until now, Harry had forgotten that they had others present in their vicinity. The mother was crouched over the father and peaking out from either side of the front door to their house were two little faces, their eyes wide in fear.
'We really need a uniform, all black is good for stealth but can be incredibly confusing for those that don't know us.'
"My name is Daphne Greengrass, my friend here is Harry Potter, I'm sure you've heard of him." Daphne's attempt at being approachable was marred by the bitterness she felt by being shamed moments earlier.
"Friend?" Harry asked not so innocently.
"Quiet."
"What are you doing here?" Ruby Waters queried, the fear from before now dissipating.
"Rescuing you of course," he declared in his best Weasley imitation, "and killing these two. Mainly rescuing you."
"Take this," Daphne said whilst offering them a thin piece of frayed rope, "it will take you to a holding cell whilst we determine whether or not you're a threat to our community."
"A cell?" Her concern was not without merit, she'd heard of how muggle-sympathisers were treated in ministry cells and seen the aftermath hanging in the streets.
"Don't worry, if you're not a Death Eater, or private killer, you'll be given food, water and a warm place for your children to sleep." Harry's assurance helped immensely, the children in their naivety already seemed to trust him more as they tentatively left the safety of their home and joined their parents in the street. "Your husband is just stunned but might have a concussion, he'll be treated as soon as you arrive.""
"Is that really the 'Ice Queen' mumma? The one that fought the giants?" Lucy, the daughter, asked quietly.
"Yes… yes, sweetie," Ruby told her daughter as she accepted the rope. Her eyes shined with gratitude only capable of a parent threatened with the death of their child and said more than the soft "thank you" that she uttered towards Daphne.
"Any pets inside?" They'd made that mistake before, some poor old lady hadn't had the chance to tell Moody about her thirteen cats and when they returned a few days later… there weren't thirteen anymore.
"No."
"Activate."
August 5th
9:23am
Black Chateau, Isle of Man
Daphne
Daphne sighed heavily, "is there nothing we can do?"
Once more the command team had found themselves with a new crisis, not even a week after they had bolstered their stores with piles and piles of gold, the ICW had held an international council on the "situation" in Great Britain.
"No, with the ICW declaring this war an internal affair, they have the authority to quarantine the British Isles for as long as they see fit."
"I'm sorry," Harry interjected respectfully, "what does the quarantine mean for us? I somewhat get the politics but how does it actually affect our campaign?"
"The quarantine is essentially a ward, Harry," Hermione began, the room gave her their full attention as she continued, "not only does it prohibit all magical travel but it also has the unfortunate side effect of disabling muggle electronics." She looked around the table and saw some confused looks after the word 'electronics' so she extrapolated; "power, navigation, water filtration, all of the machines muggles use to make long distance travel possible are shut off with seemingly no explanation."
"You mean…" Tonks trailed off.
"Boats become stranded, planes fall out of the sky, the death toll must be in the thousands already," Hermione mournfully explained, no doubt thinking about her own family.
"The ICW are foolish," Daphne remarked thoughtfully, "Voldemort already has sympathisers abroad."
"If anything, they've done us a favour," Moody's tactical mind had already been working to turn the situation to their favour, "we have no assets outside of the Britain Isles but Voldemort does. He'll receive no more mercenary support, no more giants or trolls, every kill counts now."
"A favour?" Hermione hotly interjected, "millions will die!"
A tense silence ensued, most silently agreeing that the ICW had crippled Voldemort more than themselves but Hermione's impassioned concerns were no less true.
"Kingsley," Daphne addressed the Senior Auror to cut the tension, "do you still have contacts in the muggle government?"
"I should, though they won't be too happy to hear from me."
"If you can warn them not to travel internationally, you'll be saving countless lives" Remus too was troubled by Moody's strategic perspective and appreciated that they'd be proactive in cleaning up their magical mess.
"Muggles won't see it that way, and they're not entirely wrong." Damien's input would've been met with outrage with less cooler heads in the room, instead it was met with intrigue. "With no way to contact the outside world, this nation will starve. We're looking at a total collapse of the government within the year, there will be riots, a flagrant disregard for moral conduct and the destabilisation of public infrastructure."
'Which will leave us with little left to defend.'
"We need to start thinking about food then, we've got five hundred people on the grounds and no land for crops.
"We've got two greenhouses out the back," Neville piped up from the end of the table. Gone were the bags from under his eyes but the loneliness and sorrow remained.
"Good thinking Neville," Tonks encouragingly complimented the boy, "let's see if we can't round up some herbologists in the camp."
"Why would the ICW do this? Surely sending help is better than condemning thousands of muggles to die just so that we can fight it out ourselves?" Harry knew he was still lacking when it came to international politics but this was bizarre. 'Surely this only guarantees a breach in the statute of secrecy.'
"Voldemort's recent proclivity to systematically execute innocent civilians and display their bodies in the street is a good way to terrify the masses, especially on the international stage," Elphias eloquently explained with a distinct look of disgust. "The attacks were rarely this calculated, the first time around. His modus operandi was to be unpredictable, the idea being you never knew where he was going to strike next, now…"
"Now he's got his people going door to door, murdering anyone that he deems unworthy of magic; it's a barbarism unheard of." Halim had performed more patrols than anyone in Diagon alley and had repeatedly seen first hand the consequences of Voldemort's crusade. "And whilst they would never admit it, the rest of the world is scared."
"Their fear is misplaced, as was the ICW's gamble," Daphne began with an edge to her voice, "for they will have to deal with us when this is all over."
August 11th
3:42pm
Black Chateau, Isle of Man
Daphne
Rain pelted against the large stained glass windows as Daphne made her way down the first floor eastern corridor.
She watched Hermione lean up to kiss Blaise and recognised the words 'love you too' on her lips as Blaise pulled away. Blaise retreated back into the room he shared with Hermione, whilst the bushy haired Gryffindor made her way to the dungeon staircase.
On her way past a window, Daphne observed Harry and Moody training some new recruits just outside the main building. 'Perfect,' she thought as she made her way to the dungeon too. Passing the guards with nary a glance, she descend the steps into their makeshift prison.
What many didn't know was that when they redid the cellar into cells, the old guard of the command team had carved out one more room with their expansion charms. Most notably, the room had no 'real' entrance as Remus and Bill had skillfully cast an illusion to mask it. So, as Daphne reached the bottom of the stairs, she had arrived just in time to see Hermione disappear at the end of the hall.
The most valuable component of the war, or rather pieces of it, were housed in this secret room. A Locket, a wand and most recently… a goblet. All of which were laid out in front of Hermione on a simple wooden table, each of them covered by a glass box that was warded in every possible way.
"Anything new?" Daphne queried, secretly enjoying the little jolt Hermione performed at the sound of an unexpected visitor.
Hermione pulled the stool beside her out from under the table for Daphne as she replied, "no, unfortunately not."
"We were fortunate Remus recognised it for what it is," Daphne started, nodding towards Helga Hufflepuff's Goblet, "yet I am not surprised he could feel its influence." The entire room had a thick uneasy air that could suffocate someone if they stayed down there too long.
"There were suspicions Bellatrix Lestrange would be in possession of one of the horcruxes, but to trust it to the goblins…" Hermione trailed off.
"Lestrange is more intelligent than we realise," Daphne concluded. Hermione hummed her agreement and began emptying her bottomless bag. Tome after tome spilled out and stacked on the desk until finally she brought free a parchment, complete with quill and ink, and stared thoughtfully at the scrawl that was already on it. Seeing Hermione deep in thought, Daphne grew curious and asked, "what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking we're going to have to break into Hogwarts sometime soon."
Daphne still couldn't read the scrawl on the parchment from her angle but the deduction was obvious. "The fangs?"
"Yes, these texts are very vague about destroying a horcrux but with only two more to go, we need to work on a way to finish them." Hermione carefully raised the glass box over Harry's wand and placed it to the side. "Dumbledore told Harry the sword of Gryffindor can also destroy horcruxes, but, I hesitate to enter a room that's been Professor Snape's primary residence for months."
"Wise," Daphne agreed. Either way an expedition to Hogwarts was necessary yet Daphne sensed something else was on Hermione's mind. "Have you spoken to your parents?"
"Harry took me to see them yesterday," Hermione answered, surprised by Daphne's concern. "They know not to try and leave the country but still won't accept Harry's offer of refuge."
"They fear they'll be taken advantage of?" A very reasonable deduction on the Granger's part, the wizarding world is a dangerous place for wizards, let alone those with no defences against attackers.
"They do," Hermione answered cheerlessly. "I think that if Voldemort's ministry were so inclined, he could find my parents' address in a heartbeat and we know how they treat muggles associated with the wizarding world."
"Mmm," Daphne hummed, "what about Grimmauld, or Longbottom Manor?"
"Tried that, if they weren't going to join me here, they certainly didn't want to be in an unfamiliar place with only unfamiliar people."
"Understandable" Daphne's honesty brought some relief to Hermione as she returned the gesture with a smile.
"I'm still amazed Voldemort managed to create a horcrux so soon after his resurrection." Hermione's statement was followed by her casting a series of diagnostic charms over Harry's old phoenix feather wand. "Although it does explain Harry being so angsty in fifth year., among other things…"
"Indeed, there were a great many days he struggled to reconcile himself and Voldemort in his own mind," Daphne acknowledged tiredly as she remembered the mess Harry had become. 'His suffering has been uniquely torturous and still he moves forward,' she thought fondly.
"And you said it simply vacated by itself?" Hermione's quill scratched her parchment as Daphne considered her reply. It would not do well to have her story different from the one Harry and herself had decided on.
"Not exactly, Harry had a role to play. Only the right circumstances allowed him to expel the vile thing." Daphne knew she wasn't exactly lying, it was intentional after all, but it was a secret need kept. "The soul piece then attached to Harry's wand, rendering it a horcrux."
"And Dumbledore's plan was to what? Kill Harry, or rather, have him die?"
"The late headmaster believed there was no way to separate the two soul pieces from each other," Daphne explained before concluding resolutely, "and Voldemort must die."
Hermione placed the heavily warded glass box back over the phoenix feather wand and leaned on the table with a sigh. "I had never thought Dumbledore of all people would lose hope."
"He didn't, I believe," Daphne returned unhappy she was even slightly defending Albus Dumbledore, "he simply knew he was not capable of finding the answer."
"Another shock," Hermione added as she tapped the glass with her own wand. "As much as you two dislike like him, Dumbledore was a great wizard."
"He was a scholar with limited scope which proved to be his, and nearly Harry's, undoing." To say she was still slightly bitter about Dumbledore's narrowmindedness would be an understatement, although she hardly expected the headmaster to advise anyone to make a horcrux.
"Limited scope…" Hermione reached into her book bag once more and pulled out a familiarly ancient looking scroll. Daphne watched Hermione's eyes lock onto Harry's old wand and widen in shock. Hastily, she gathered her things into a pile and slid them into her bag.
"What's wrong? Is it speaking to you?" Daphne hesitantly asked, her wand dropping into hand.
"No, nothing," Hermione quickly answered, "these things just rattle me is all." Hermione made a show of checking the leather bound watch on her wrist before rattling out; "oh dear! I'm meant to be checking up on the Greenhouses in three minutes!"
"Tonks reported back to me just this morning–"
"Neville asked for my opinion on one of the growth enhancers," Hermione replied as she slid the last of the tomes back into her bottomless bag. "We're going to attempt to use Demiguise urine to effect change in an onion's hormone levels."
"You're using urine on our food?" Daphne imagined she'd never expressed simply how absurd she thought an idea was as much as she was in that moment. "Tonks made no mention of this."
"It's not actually urine, the liquid is invisible and it's easier to say than 'Kun Bujian de teti'" Hermione whizzed past Daphne and stopped only to eject a swift "bye!" before leaving the secret room.
Daphne was left alone in the windowless soul prison, reeling from the whirlwind that was Hermione Granger. 'You're good,' Daphne thought appreciatively as she cast a suspicious glance at the phoenix feather wand, 'but not good enough.'
She recognised Hermione's attempt at confusing her for what it was but found it difficult imagining Hermione as a threat. 'She's too smart to leave things unsaid,' Daphne concluded as she too made her way out of the room. Whatever had spooked Hermione was clearly not Daphne's problem, thankfully, for she already had too much to worry about as it was.