CH34: Council

November 28th

4:25pm

Hogwarts Grounds, Scotland

Daphne

Unlike the previous crisis, Daphne was fully aware of what was happening around her. History was being made on the rainswept grounds of Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardry. In a tent creatively dubbed 'the big tent' by the loyalist denizens, two centaurs, two goblins and two humans stood around a wide circular table. On the top side of the table eight parchments were spread out evenly, each of them representing a floor of the castle that overshadowed the tent.

Harry stood at her left, both of them dressed ready for battle. The same could be said for her majesty Giox, Head Goblin Ragnok, High Chief Magorian and his second, Bane.

'What a tragedy it would be if we were so unintelligent to dismiss a surprise attack.' Daphne imperceptibly smirked at the notion. 'To take a Dark Lord at their word has to be the highest folly.'

"Welcome friends, before we begin I would introduce those who don't know each other." Harry started on his left and moved around the table. "On my left is Queen Giox of Karnuk and her Head Goblin, Ragnok."

Daphne scrutinised the heavily armoured Goblins out of curiosity. 'You've finally found a chance to break the yoke of oppression.' The queen noticed Daphne's gaze on her and returned a hard stare. 'Strength and guile, a formidable ally then.' Daphne bowed her head in deference and returned her attention to Harry.

"On my right we have High Chief Magorian and War Chief Bane."

Daphne didn't give much thought to Magorian and Bane. She had seen them interact with Harry and other command members amicably. Magorian gave a respectful nod as Harry moved on.

"Beside me is Daphne Greengrass." He placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke with a no-questions asked tone. "Her words carry the same weight as my own."

'Should they?' her traitorous mind spoke in rebuttal. As quickly as the thought was conjured it was dispelled. 'No time for self-worth issues, I must focus.'

"Now that introductions are over, I have something to show you." Harry leaned on the table in front of him and shouted, "Sirius!"

Daphne knew what was coming but still grimaced as Sirius entered the tent with a football sized sack in his hands. Sirius' own face twisted into a brief expression of disgust before he pulled the sack up and revealed the head of Severus Snape.

"One week," Magorian read thoughtfully as he stroked his long beard. "When did this arrive?"

"This morning," Daphne supplied.

"If the Defiler speaks true then he is not so cunning after all." Giox grabbed Snape's head and lifted it to eye level to inspect it further. "What would drive him to give up his advantage?"

"Voldemort thinks we're broken," Daphne hypothesised. "He had us flee our last stronghold and he doesn't know about your armies joining our side."

"He thinks he's coming to attack a couple hundred wizards, maximum." Harry waved his hand and two miniature wood figurines carved into the facsimile of a wizard materialised on the ground floor map of Hogwarts just outside where the tent would be. "But with the recruitment of civilians, we've got just shy of four hundred loyalist combatants." He waved his hand again and two more figurines appeared alongside the first two. "We can also add two half giants and a handful of house elves to that total."

"You know our number, two hundred guardians and eighty green-weavers." Bane's deep voice sounded disgruntled and he clopped as he spoke. Two centaurs figurines materialised behind the four wizards

'You're mad because you could not match our number?' Daphne stopped herself from shaking her head in disappointment. 'This alliance means more to some than others it seems.'

"Six hundred warriors."

Daphne couldn't halt her physical reaction to Ragnok's revelation. Her head snapped up swiftly as she switched on fully. Her eyes flicked to Harry, curious to see how he'd reacted. Harry was already looking at her, an eager smile across his face.

"Six hundred warriors," he repeated as six goblin figurines joined the two other sets on the map. "That brings our total fighting force to one thousand two hundred."

"Send the half giants to our smiths, they will outfit them properly." Giox's offer came across as more of a command which irked Daphne slightly, and empowered a nagging thought she'd been stuck on since the meeting began.

'Who's in charge?'

As she surveyed the beings around her, she could see their own domains behind their eyes. Despite coming to the table to fight this war, what will become of their coalition when Voldemort lay dead?

"I'm sure they'll appreciate that." Harry's genuine tone raised no suspicion in Daphne but she did privately wonder if he had the same doubts as she did. "Now that we know our strength, let's turn our attention to the terrain."

All six of them leaned forward to see the maps better. "We must leverage the castle to negate our number disadvantage."

"Do we know the dark one's number?" Magorian asked, although by his resolute tone, he already knew the answer.

"No," Daphne replied. "However he outnumbered the active auror number at Azkaban and that was before he broke the prisoners out and annexed the ministry."

Magorian's eyebrows rose high up his forehead in surprise.

"That's where our greatest advantage will come into play." Harry leaned over the table and pointed to three locations. "The viaduct, Ravenclaw and Rope bridges. We'll sabotage each of them and force the Dark Lord's army to fight shoulder to shoulder in the clocktower courtyard."

"Abandon half the castle." Giox's tone was in direct contrast to the words she spoke as she showed appreciation for the plan, rather than contempt.

'Choke points…' Daphne remembered how well they worked against Voldemort's small force at the end of sixth year. However, they had the protection of the castle's magic that time. "That only works if the wards hold," she refuted, "which they won't, not under a full assault."

The moment the wards drop, the wizards in the dark army would simply apparate into the school and wreak havoc on any organisation they prepared.

"We have the castle," Ragnok began, his own gaze studying the maps thoughtfully. "If we set traps in the corridors and arrange our warriors correctly, they would be voluntarily entering a slaughterhouse."

"As you say, goblin warriors form the front line as our guardians loose the red devils' enchanted arrows from the rear." Bane's narration was accompanied by his manipulation of the figurines into the correct positions. "When the wards fail, wizards cover the retreat into the castle and we enact the gob–" Bane stopped himself and looked up sharply. "Head Goblin Ragnok's plan."

'Subtle,' Daphne thought with mirth. Her eyes scanned the maps with the figurines in place, each of them insufficient symbols for the lives they represented. 'A pitched battle would mean the deaths of hundreds… is there a better way?'

"Who will command our host?" Each faction remained silent, none of them willing to start a potential schism answering Giox's question. The goblin queen was no fool, with the tension in the room rising, she turned to Harry and asked; "you, Potter?"

Daphne contained her surprise and mentally kicked herself for her lack of perception. She had been operating under the assumption that each party would be looking to grasp every measure of power they could from this alliance. In her admitted bigotry, she had failed to consider that perhaps their new found allies were exactly that; allies.

Harry hesitated and looked to her for support. Daphne met his look with the slightest shake of her head.

'No distractions this time, we can't afford them.'

"I will be busy with Voldemort," he answered Giox, "Daphne too."

"Your wizards will struggle to listen to a non-human commander," Ragnok stated frankly with less scorn than Daphne expected. "Is there one in your ranks? Experienced enough to serve as acting general for this alliance?"

Once more Harry sought her input. "Kingsley or Moody?"

'Moody is more experienced,' she thought immediately. 'However Kingsley is an accomplished diplomat.'

"Kingsley," Daphne decided.

"Very well," Magorian stated simply. Magorian reached over the table and pulled a map of the wider Scottish highlands to the top. He traced his finger across the parchment until it landed on a label marked 'Hogsmeade.' "What of the town? Hogsmeade will be undefended and close enough to be a target."

In real time, Daphne watched as she and Harry realised their oversight. Having been so focused on each other, they'd forgotten to consider the highly populated village right on their doorstep.

"We'll have to evacuate them with the others," Harry proposed immediately, "sooner rather than later."

"Agreed," Bane easily replied. Too easily, in Daphne's eyes. That is why she wasn't the slightest bit surprised when Bane continued. "But on what authority?"

"What do you mean?"

"We are an army of many faces telling people to leave their homes…" Bane explained poignantly. "I would not be inclined to listen, much less obey."

'Not to mention the stigma around our new friends.' Daphne half glanced towards the goblin queen who was deep in thought.

Harry sighed quietly and ran a hand through his hair. "What do you suggest?"

'Doubtless you find the notion of being attached to a place more than people or your life laughable,' she assumed.

"We need a name." Magorian's seamless takeover of Bane's proposition meant that they had come to the meeting with the intention to bring the issue up. "One that represents this alliance and its goal."

"They already have a name," Ragnok gestured in Harry and Daphne's general direction. "Would it not confuse our forces to give another?"

"Loyalist served its purpose in rallying wizards and witches after Azkaban," Harry elucidated. "But you're right Bane, it's the wrong sentiment."

Her father had described how he felt other magical communities would react to a new wizard government. The goblins, in their infinite wealth, would leverage power and impose sanctions for concessions. The wider world would look at a crippled Britain like vultures hovering a carcass and pick them to pieces.

'We must unite, bring a form of legitimacy that this country has been sorely lacking.' Daphne straightened and prepared herself to make a decision for all Magical Kind. "I submit the British Magical Federation."

Magorian and Ragnok failed to restrain their astonishment with each of them letting out quiet gasps. But none were more amazed than Giox, who immediately snapped her serious gaze to Daphne.

"Do you understand what that name implies? I will not have the future of my people, or yours, built on ignorance."

Whilst Daphne respected the integrity of Giox's character, she would not be accused of nescience. "Partial self governance over your various lands under the condition that you conform to a federal level of law."

"Wizard law?"

"No," Daphne firmly objected. "Harry promised you change, let us deliver it."

"The British Magical Federation," Harry intoned, pleased. "Any objections?"

"None," Magorian answered easily.

"The Goblins of Karnuk… are honoured." Giox and Ragnok both put a fist to the chests and bowed slightly.

"Good then, spread the word…"

Harry drew his wand and aimed it at the breast of his shirt. The tip glowed orange as green, red and purple threads began to embroider a patch close to his heart. In a moment, there were three symbols contained within a circle; a white shield on a red background, a white bow on a green background and a white hammer and anvil on a purple background. Each of the major factions expressed equally, a representation of their equal power in the fight against Voldemort.

"...we aren't three armies anymore, we're a single unit fighting for the same future."

November 29th

7:02am

Hogsmeade Village, Scotland

Harry

Hogsmeade village, a place of wonder and whimsy for Hogwarts students to explore, had seen better days. The snow capped roofs, which looked festive a year ago, now appeared dreary and sad.

Harry and Daphne were at the head of a protracted column of fighters. Goblins made the outer edges of the formation, their magically resilient shields ready to take the brunt of an ambush. In the centre, ex-aurors and federation volunteers scanned the windows and alleyways for threats to their new comrades. At the back of the column, the other leaders of the alliance accompanied a retinue of centaur guardians and green-weavers. If Harry and Daphne were ambushed, the others would be able to stabilise and mount a counter offensive.

'Ragnok's knowledge of tactics is a welcome addition, Auror training only takes a wizard so far.' Harry stopped in the middle of Hogsmeade square and heard the rest follow behind him. The town was eerily quiet, to the point where he could hear the snow falling on the roofs and floor around him. Hogsmeade was essentially a ghost town. Harry raised his wand to his neck which glowed a dim white.

"People of Hogsmeade, my name is Harry James Potter." His magically amplified voice rustled snow from the slates unto the street. "I speak to you now with the authority of the British Magical Federation." He glanced at Daphne, the words felt foreign and uncomfortable, he hoped to find reassurance from her. Sixteen years old and at the head of a new government, it was something he'd have to adjust to eventually.

"Embrace it," she whispered in an encouraging tone of voice.

With her support, he nodded and continued. "In four days time, Voldemort will attack Hogwarts and it is my hope to convince you all to evacuate this village so that you may avoid the coming battle."

The village remained still, the leaves daren't fall and the wind refused to whisper.

'This was a right waste of time then.'

Just as the thought crossed his mind, the crunch of snow under foot permeated through the silent streets. From a side alley an old man hobbled into view. The man wore long maroon robes to match his pronounced and unkempt grey beard. The man continued walking until he was in the middle of the street where he stopped and squinted at the congregated army.

"Potter?"

"Yes." As a precaution, Harry turned side on with his wand at the ready.

"Who's that with you?"

"An army…" Harry shared a look with Daphne as if to say 'get a load of this guy' before he returned his full attention to the strange man.

The man leaned to the side and nodded to himself as if he hadn't noticed the mass of goblin steel just behind Harry. "I've not enough ale for an army."

"We're not here for ale," Daphne cut in irritably, "where are the residents?"

"Oh they're here, too scared to come out I imagine." In a flash the man's wand was in his hand at his throat. "Please, reveal yourselves."

Harry kept his wand half trained on the man as he looked behind him. Down the main street, the doors to every residential building opened to reveal the residents of Hogsmeade. They were thin and many of the men had seemed to have refused to maintain a certain level of personal hygiene. Despite looking worse for wear, they were alive.

"Alright fan out, you know what to check for and where to send them." Daphne's command was met with instant action. The goblin outer shell moved with impressive cohesion to allow the wizard and witches in the middle to attend to the families that funnelled out of their homes.

"Potter." Harry turned back towards the bizarre wizard and found him gesturing to the alley he'd come from. "A word?"

Harry nodded and allowed the man to lead on. Discreetly, he passed the invisibility cloak to Daphne so that she could follow close behind before he took his first steps in the alley's direction.

It was a short journey to the stranger's destination and it was a destination he recognised.

'The Hog's Head?' He stepped into the second most popular pub in Hogsmeade with trepidation, constantly reaching out with his magic to detect traps before he was caught in them.

"Have a seat."

Whilst Harry had meticulously tried to uncover an attempt on his life, the man had moved freakishly fast and was behind the bar, drying off a jug with a rag.

"I'm good, thanks."

Harry continued to scan the dingy pub, half expecting Voldemort to burst out from one of the booths. The more he searched though, the less he found, which made him even more curious about this mystery man. Harry felt he could safely assume the man was the barkeep of the establishment as he poured a pint of butterbeer into the jug he'd just cleaned, only to set it down on the counter in front of Harry.

"On the house."

Harry scrutinised the barkeep carefully. It wouldn't do for him to die in such a dark place, not whilst there was still so much work to do. Nonetheless, Harry took a seat and grabbed the jug. He didn't drink from it straight away, his only course of action was to continue the staring contest with the barkeep. A silent threat was laced into his gaze. 'If it's poisoned, you best hope it kills me quickly.'

"It isn't," the man said apathetically. "It would be a poor barkeep that poisons his most famous customer."

Harry's stare turned into a glare as he took a big swig of the drink. When his head came down from its tilt, he noticed a slight sparkle of amusement behind the man's tired blue eyes. It was that sparkle that triggered a small burst of recognition, as though he'd known the man before. 'He bares a striking resemblance to–'

"Albus Dumbledore… yes boy, I do." Harry's wand was swiftly trained on the barkeep, even as he turned his back and poured himself a pint. "I have not intruded your mind, nor do I seek to harm you, indirectly or otherwise."

"Who are you?"

"Aberforth, barkeep of the Hog's Head and–"

"And a Dumbledore." Harry's mind struggled to remember the entry about Albus Dumbledore's brother in the former headmaster's journal. It had been brief, used as an allegory for pride. 'Dammit, maybe there was too much knowledge in that damned book.'

"And the last man on this planet who cares to remember my brother as he was." Obscured by the elder's grey bush of a beard, Aberforth sent a slight smirk at Harry. "However the way you spit our name, perhaps that is untrue."

"I knew Albus Dumbledore well," Harry calmed himself and holstered his wand, "he mentioned you."

"Did he now?" Aberforth seemed more surprised than one should that his brother had mentioned him. "You…" the barkeep pointed at Harry and had a spiteful glee to his gaze, "you came to know his flaws, I see it in the way you look at me. You wonder if I can be trusted, what hidden meaning I have embedded in meaningless words." Aberforth took a gulp of his butterbeer and his expression contorted into one of contempt. "I am not my brother, boy, I am anything but."

Aberforth's disdain for his brother coaxed a memory to the surface of Harry's mind.

"I think," she had said, stifling back tears, "you're so afraid of becoming Voldemort and Dumbledore, you've somehow turned into an unnatural combination of the two."

The memory of Hermione's last words to him caused him to absentmindedly take another swig from his drink.

"Why do you fight?" Aberforth's direct and gruff voice forced Harry back to reality. Fortunately it was a question that he finally had a clear answer to after three years of struggle.

"Belief that we can be better."

"Do you carry on in his name?"

Harry fought the urge to scoff. "No."

"Good." Aberforth reached across the counter and slapped him on the shoulder heartily. "We have heard many tales in this village, of a pale shade that abducted Death Eaters in the night." Finished with his drink, Aberforth returned to the taps and began pouring himself another. "And a fallen hero with murder in his halls."

'Word travels fast and far, for better or worse.' Harry maintained a mighty hold on the bad memories that clawed to cause him more pain. "What else have you heard?"

"That someone has managed to unite sorcerers, goblins and centaurs into one army." The look Aberforth gave him was one that preceded a coy joke. "Not even my brother did that, or rather, could do that."

"All that I am, I owe to others."

"Humble, much unlike Al." Aberforth shook his head sadly as though he were trying to get rid of a bad image in his mind. "My brother sacrificed much on his journey to obtain power, Mr Potter, more than a humble man could stomach."

"I know" The more Aberforth spoke, the more Harry remembered from Albus' journal. 'A battle between brothers and lovers, only to end in the death of a sister.'

"You do?"

"Loss is no stranger to me."

Aberforth hummed in acknowledgement. "Are you broken?"

'Broken?' After all he'd endured, poison, battery, burns torture, death of those closest to him and a whole plethora of other cruel punishments… "Some."

"Hmm." Aberforth scooped up Harry's half empty jug and instantly replaced it with a small circular glass. The glass contained a dark brown liquid which only filled a fifth of the glass. "Here boy, a drink for the burdened. You will hate it, or hate that you love it."

Harry took the glass and brought it to his nose and instantly put it back down. "Oh-ugh-my… wow." Just the smell of the alcohol was more than enough to make Harry certain that he did not want the drink.

"It is a man's drink, Potter," Aberforth laughed gruffly at his expense, "and in some ways you're still a lad."

Harry grimaced and allowed Aberforth to take the drink away. "The residents–oh lord," Harry sneezed away the burn in his nostrils, "they look to you?"

The last remaining Dumbledore's face turned sour. "Death Eaters took Madame Rosmerta early this year under the charge of 'dissidence'," he explained as he wiped the counter with the same rag from before. "People appreciate a working tap in times of hardship."

"I'm sure they would appreciate your services on the mainland," Harry proposed as the beginnings of a plan formed in his mind. "Voldemort will be here in less than four days… we're sending those who can't fight to Calais by boat."

Aberforth's rhythmic scrubbing abruptly stopped as curiosity got the better of him. "And you want me to oversee their journey?"

"It would save us sending a battle group with them. You, Arthur Weasley, the teachers and an auror by the name of Nymphadora Tonks should be enough." For how much the thought irked him, Harry poured as much enthusiasm as he could into saying it. "The name Dumbledore could mean something more than him."

"Calais you say?" Aberforth held an unblinking gaze with the counter before him. "You think the French will give them refuge?"

"If we lose, Voldemort won't." Harry eyed Aberforth cautiously, unsure of whether his next words would push the barkeep over the edge to complete refusal. "I would also have you send a message to the ICW."

"And what would that be?"

The sound of disturbed cloth behind him gave Harry cause to smile. 'Always with the dramatic flair.'

Daphne took a seat beside Harry and spoke firmly. "That the British Magical Federation condemns the cowardly isolationist agenda that the ICW has imposed on our people."

It was clear that Daphne felt very comfortable in the authoritative role, more so than Harry thought he ever could be. He'd acquitted himself well in times of crisis, but somehow the association to a government shook his confidence.

A similar sense of doubt seemed to have taken hold of Aberforth who still hadn't given the pair an answer.

For a moment Harry thought they'd pushed him too far, the man who'd lived his life in solitude might not be so inclined to step into the limelight.

"Will you escort them?"

In a commitment to present a unified front, Harry didn't glance at his partner for pushing the last Dumbledore even more. That isn't to say he didn't have his doubts.

"I will." Aberforth sealed his words as pact by shaking Daphne's hand.

'Okay then, nevermind.'

"Round up what you need and find Professor McGonagall in the castle, she'll be accompanying the evacuation with the students."

Aberforth silently slinked off to a room behind the bar presumably to do exactly as Daphne said. For a moment Harry was certain he heard the panicked bleating of a goat before it became muffled and eventually silent.

'He wouldn't be a Dumbledore if he wasn't a little odd,' Harry told himself. Oddities aside, Aberforth's attitude was something Harry could respect. A recluse nearly all of his life and yet when the time came to do the right thing he had stepped up. 'Making the right choices, actively doing good… would you look at that.'

"Harry?"

A smile had graced his lips despite his melancholy thoughts, one that not even the sight of a star struck wizard could interrupt.

"I'm okay," he assured Daphne who had furrowed her brow in concern. The wizard in front of the pair wore the new insignia of the Federation; grey robes that sported the same patch Harry had a day prior. "Have we rounded everyone up?"

"Final count is two hundred and twenty one." The young man's glee at speaking to Harry Potter turned sour as he continued. "Though we had a few problems between our warriors and some families."

Harry sat up and shared a look of anxiety with Daphne. "Problems?"

Harry and Daphne's full attention only served to unnerve the poor man who spoke carefully as if expecting some kind of punishment. "War Chief Bane was right, some didn't like that a goblin was telling them to abandon their homes."

Daphne slid off her seat, wand in hand. "Any casualties?"

"A broken nose and a sprained arm."

"A broken nose and a sprained arm?" Harry exclaimed incredulously.

"Is there something wrong sir?" The auror's voice had risen an octave due to nerves, too fear stricken to separate surprise from anger.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "No, no, thank you for taking the tally. Make sure they all get a good meal and are informed of the evacuation plan."

The young man botched a salute and made a hasty exit. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the man's antics.

"One of the new fighters from the recruitment drive, Aiden I believe." Daphne's simper gladdened Harry to see. "Whatever happened to quality over quantity?"

"Desperate times." Despite it being the bleak truth, the pair found humour in it and shared a laugh. Just a few days ago, they had clashed in the ancient halls of Hogwarts with catastrophic violence. The contrast was refreshing to Harry's taxed psyche.

"Beware the snake in stone…" Harry doubted he'd ever forget the desperately crazed eyes of his future self.

"Beware the snake in stone?"

Harry looked up with surprise, unaware he'd said the words aloud. "Something the vision told me," he averted his saddened gaze, "and Luna before she–" He sighed but carried on when Daphne put a supportive hand on his back. "Beware the snake in stone… beware the snake ensnared by stones."

"One of the snakes was me," Daphne affirmed whilst she continued to rub his back. "Ensnared… degrading but true."

"I figured they were both talking about you but my future self said it as two separate things." Harry closed his eyes and leaned into Daphne's soothing motions. 'Prophecy may be the only thing worse than politics.'

"Well the only other snake of significance I know is Voldemort but–" Daphne's sentence ended abruptly which awoke Harry from his peaceful reverie. His partner wore an expression of pride and no small measure of gratification. "I have an idea."

'Oh my goodness, surely not.' As though they were the Weasley twins, it seemed their minds had attuned to generate the same conclusion. "Me too."

"The snake?"

"The snake."