Author's notes: For the exterior details of Grimmauld Place, I used the real-life Claremont Square, which was used as the filming location for the house, with a few minor alterations. For the interior I am using the same floor plan I have used previously.
Harry Potter and all associated trademarks belong to JK Rowling. You'd be amazed how quickly you run out of creative ways to say that.
I want to give a huge shout out to my betareader MikkiSteele. Without them, well I'll be honest. You all would see so many typos it's probably not funny.
Chapter Twelve
Heather lay on the hard earth and tried her best not to fidget. This wasn't easy considering the fact that she had been laying perfectly still here since noon. On either side of her, tightly packed in under a large, half dead hedge, were Honeywell and Padma, with Williamson on Padma's other side. The only visible sign of their presence were the distorted ripples in the air caused by their disillusionment charms. Three other pairs of watchers were hidden around the unkempt square, patiently waiting.
Today was the recruit's first foray into the field. Now nearing the end of their second week of training, there was no doubt that the trainee's confidence was up, and they were chomping at the bit to get back out into the fight. The news coming in from those aurors who were currently tracking down death eaters made it clear that the recruits would be needed, and soon. A constant stream of reports identified possible locations of hold outs and death eater groups that needed to be stopped. The picture they painted was not a pretty one at all.
Voldemort had never expected to die, after all living forever was his only goal in life, but this lack of forward planning wasn't hindering his remaining supporters from organizing faster than anyone had expected. Intelligence currently suggested two or three large cells of Death Eaters operating across Britain and possibly Ireland. The only real advantage the depleted Auror Office held was that without Voldemort to rally his troops behind a single purpose, fractures were beginning to show. There was no indication at this point that any one person had assumed the mantle of Chief Death Eater yet. In fact, it looked like each of the individual cells were operating completely independently of each other. Right now the DMLE was primarily focused on what was reported to be the largest group, led by the Lestrange brothers Rabastan and Rodolphus.
Thoughts of fighting death eaters were not of the only things occupying the minds of the trainees. After his or her success vandalizing Heather's bra and getting away scot-free, the unknown prankster had targeted and succeeded in getting Neville, Padma, Hestia, and Ron, all without leaving a single clue to their identity. The pranks, while juvenile, were certainly inventive and did not lack for creativity. Even Heather had been unable to keep back from laughing at the sight of Neville emerging from the men's locker room with metallic blue hair on Wednesday.
It was natural perhaps that Ron would be the first person suspected of being the culprit. After all, most of the recruits, who were the only ones to be pranked so far, had spent years at school with Fred and George and easily associated pranks with the name Weasley. After Padma's clothes had been transfigured to look something like what old Augusta Longbottom might wear, Heather had asked Ron point blank if he was behind it. Ron's emphatic denials had been confirmed the very next afternoon. During dueling practice, his arm holster had launched a bouquet of pink roses into his hand instead of his wand. Proudfoot's hex had hit him square in the chest and knocked him flat on his arse. Ron had spent most of dinner that night complaining that his buttocks would never properly heal.
Each of the recruits was carrying out their own investigation of just who could be carrying out these deeds. It was interesting to watch the trust and camaraderie that was growing between them during training vanish the moment that a fresh prank was discovered. Personally, Heather doubted it was one of them. Her money, though she kept this to herself, was that it was one of the senior aurors. Everyone did admit that the antics were doing a good job of helping with the mounting stresses of their new job the longer training went on. That didn't stop them from leaving their possessions unsecured, however.
So far, no one had been gotten today, though their current assignment would make it hard on the prankster, assuming he or she had been assigned to this mission. After their normal morning of classroom lecture, Proudfoot, who had been detailing the specific times when life taking measures could be used in auror operations, called out five names and told them to stay behind while everyone else went to lunch. Heather and Ron both knew what this was about. Earlier in the week they had been called into Robard's office and grilled on every detail they could remember about Grimmauld Place. Afterwards, they had both been sworn to secrecy on the subject so as to make the upcoming raid as realistic as possible for the rest of the trainees.
When everyone else had filed out for lunch, the five remaining trainees, Heather, Ron, Seamus, Padma, and Daphne, were all ordered to sit while their mentors joined them. On a large board that he conjured out of thin air, Proudfoot pinned a map of London surrounding the house. Heather saw no sign of the floor plan she had drawn and guessed that it was being withheld for some reason or another. The only real hard piece of information the team was given was the address of the house, so they would be able to see it through the fidelius charm.
Each pair was given an apparition point over three blocks from the house, forming a rough perimeter around the place. They would each circle around, slowly closing in like a noose, watching for any sign of magical detection traps or signs the house was inhabited. Their coats had been specially charmed so that passing muggles would ignore them unless attention was drawn, which should give them an edge of protection and a slight edge. As muggle eyes should slide right past them, chances were that if anyone took any real interest in them, they would be magical.
No one had been happy to learn that there was only one way into the house, namely the front door. This would create a natural choke point and give every advantage to whoever might be inside the house. Seamus had suggested sending in part of the force using the floo network, but that idea had quickly been discarded. There was just no way to check a fireplace for traps before you were already flying out of it. On top of that, the sudden eruption of green flames in an empty grate was a bright and loud enough to attract instant attention, giving away what little chance of surprise they were already going to have. You'd already be out of the fireplace before you could react to a spell.
Heather could see Seamus, Padma, and Daphne radiating the same nervous excitement she remembered feeling on the mornings of her break ins last year, both to the Ministry and Gringotts. It was easy for them to be excited, she thought knowingly. They had never seen what happened when an operation had gone all wrong. Hopefully they wouldn't have to learn that lesson today. All through the briefing, even as the anticipation of getting out into the field settled over her, she hadn't been able to shake the feeling that this was a mistake, despite the fact that the whole thing had been her idea in the first place. How would she feel if someone got hurt on a mission that was based solely on her recommendation and her information?
Doing her best to ignore these misgivings, she and Honeywell had apparated directly from the auror office to their designated street corner, three streets northwest of Grimmauld Place. After a quick check to confirm that none of the passing muggles were paying them even the slightest attention, they moved off, arms casually hanging by their sides, doing their best to look inconspicuous. That hour had been the most exciting of the day so far, despite nothing interesting whatsoever happening. Together they orbited the house, drawing closer in with every street, eyes peeled for the smallest hint they were being watched. The longer they walked, the easier it was to ignore the disquiet inside her. It felt right to be back out here, actively fighting evil again, and this time with a bright silver badge on her chest under her jacket, identifying her as an auror.
The rest of the team was already waiting for them when Heather and Honeywell reached the rendezvous point, a large tree in the northeast corner of the fenced in park. From there they split up, with two pairs taking up positions at either end of the street and the remaining three finding cover inside the park itself. From their hiding place they could only see the door of number twelve and a few of the houses on either side of it, but little past that. From the looks of it, no one maintained the park. Everywhere grass grew unchecked and the bordering hedge was a tangled mass of limbs and leaves. They would just have to trust the other groups to watch what they could not see themselves.
They took turns watching the door so that no one would get overboard and allow their attention to wander. In contrast to the nervous excitement of prowling the streets of London, hiding invisible under a hedge was something of a comedown. Anticipation faded into apathy as the sun traversed the sky, breaking through the thin cloud cover sometime during the second hour of their vigil. The temperature became increasingly warmer and their discomfort slowly grew. One of the downsides of disillusionment charms, Heather learned, was that since they were invisible their bodies did not block the sun's rays from warming the ground beneath them. While the hedge did provide some over from the glare, it wasn't enough to stop them from sweating heavily in her coat, which felt very heavy for a May afternoon.
Today was Heather's first day wearing the coat. It had been a gift from Andromeda Tonks, and it already meant the world to Heather. Tea with Andromeda on Saturday afternoon had been wonderful. Teddy, who looked like he had grown half a foot in the weeks since Heather had seen him last, spent most of it happily gurgling in Heather's lap, constantly changing his appearance between hers and that of his grandmother.
"He only does that with people he likes," Andromeda had said after pouring the tea. Heather could see the pain and loss still visible behind the smile she fixed the small baby with. Their conversation had been polite, Andromeda had been very interested to hear what Heather's first week as an auror had been like. Heather had debated whether to tell the older witch about the prankster or not but was glad when she did. Andromeda had nearly snorted out her tea with laughter, only just catching herself at the last minute. Teddy had found this uproariously funny and squealed his currently black-haired head off while Heather held him.
"That sounds like something Dora would have done," she said after catching her breath. She then embarked on a story from when Tonks had been home for the summer after her third year of Hogwarts involving a boy who had used to live nearby and gave Tonks a very hard time, a flobberworm that had somehow ended up in his sandwich, and an "accidental" engorgement charm.
"Dora would be proud of you," she had said afterwards with a sad smile.
"She was an amazing witch, and a good friend." Heather had said, looking down at Teddy. At some point during the story he had fallen asleep, his head fitting perfectly into the crook of Heather's elbow. Neither woman spoke for a while, both of them aware of nothing but Teddy.
"I have something for you," Andromeda had said, rising and walking towards a hall closet. From it she extracted a long purple leather coat with many pockets. "This was Dora's," Andromeda said, holding it out to Heather. She recognized it immediately. Tonks had been wearing it the night she had come to rescue them in the Department of Mysteries. "I bought this for her when she became an auror. I think it's only right that you have it now."
Heather laid the sleeping baby on the sofa next to her and stood. "I-I can't take that…" she said, feeling her throat closing up.
"She'd want you to have it. I told you, you were something like a sister to her, even if she never told you that herself. She saw a lot of herself in you." Andromeda pressed the coat into Heather's arms. "Take it."
Slowly, trying not to cry even as tears slowly slid down Andromeda Tonk's face, Heather slid her arms into the coat and shrugged it into place on her shoulders. It fit perfectly.
"I'll do her proud," Heather whispered as she shifted this way and that, marveling at the fit.
"Do yourself proud, Heather. Do that, and everyone will be proud of you." Andromeda said quietly.
It struck Heather the longer she sat there talking with Andromeda Tonks how different it was to almost any conversation she'd ever had with an adult before. There was no trace of an adult speaking down to a teenager, but instead Andromeda addressed her like an equal. Maybe it had something to do with them having met after Heather had, for all intents and purposes, already come of age, but Heather didn't feel quite as young as she did when speaking to other adults. Even with Mrs. Weasley, who was doing much better job of not mothering Heather like she used to, it still sometimes felt like all she saw was the little boy who was standing alone in King's Cross trying to find their way onto Platform 9 3/4. It felt good to be seen as an adult by another adult. It was only after agreeing to another visit soon that Heather had left, still overwhelmed at the thought that she was godmother to the sleeping Teddy.
Her thoughts returned to the present at a nudge and whispered "shh" from Honeywell. A twig had found its way through the open front of the coat and had poked her hard in the ribs, causing her to wince in pain. Her face was slick with sweat by now, and her glasses were almost sliding off the tip of her nose. Doing her best to remain completely silent, she adjusted herself into a new position and extracted the offending twig from underneath her.
It was her turn next to watch the door, and after a thoroughly boring hour of the duty, she handed it off in turn to Padma. By now the sun was almost behind the western row of houses, its light reflecting of the dingy windows of the houses and into their eyes. Heather hoped that it would blind anyone inside the house looking out as much as it was them. Men and women were starting to fill the sidewalks on their way home from work and a few children emerged in time from the houses, freed from chores and homework to play in what was left of the daylight. Heather wondered silently what would happen if one of them accidentally tripped over them.
Soon, though not soon enough in any of their opinions, the streetlamps outside of Grimmauld Place blazed into life, and the few muggles still hanging about started moving indoors. If any of them wondered why the lights along their streets hadn't come on, they made no visible sign. One of Ron's tasks had been to disable them with his deluminator. As it turned out, electric lights could be absorbed even when they weren't turned on. It was almost time for the next phase of the operation to begin.
That feeling of eager anticipation gripped Heather again as she waited for the signal. She forced herself to relax and run through the plan again another dozen or so times. She and Honeywell were going to be a rear-guard as the rest of the team converged on the front door. Williamson and Padma were supposed to go up first and unlock the door, at which point Heather and Honeywell would advance, waiting at the foot of the steps until everyone had gained entry to the house.
A bell in a nearby church tolled loudly. Heather checked her watch. Ten thirty-seven, there was no reason a church should be chiming right now. That was the signal to move. Heather could just make out wavering shapes moving silently down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street while Padma, Williamson, Seamus, and Savage broke cover and moved forward. The small gate in the wrought iron fence that ringed the park swung open noiselessly. Heather could feel her breathe catching in her chest, and she felt sure that if anything was going to happen, it would be now. Her wand was already in her hand and her eyes were doing their best to look everywhere at once.
Simultaneously, eight invisible aurors reached the steps for Number Twelve. Padma and Williamson, though it was impossible to tell which was which at a glance, climbed up and one of them tapped the door with their wand. Even as she sprinted across the street to join the force, Heather could hear the many loud thuds and clicks of the door's locks disengaging. Her heart skipped several beats. How had she forgotten just how loud that noise was? She cursed inwardly, knowing that Proudfoot's invisible glare was seeking her out. She was going to hear about that later, she knew for sure.
The noise died and the door swung inwards, revealing the lightless hallway. From the back of the group, Heather heard a low voice call from inside the house. "Severus Snape?" asked the ghostly voice of Mad-Eye Moody. The rest of the team, who had swarmed forward the second the door opened, now quailed. There were gasps, squawks, and yelps that were quickly cut off as the tongue-tying curse took effect. Red lights illuminated the hallway and the onrushing figure as a few quick thinkers shot off nonverbal stunning spells. Heather kept her knowledge of the passphrase quiet. She and Ron had both been told not to use it unless no one else was able to come up with a solution to this obstacle.
"I didn't kill you," said Ron's voice at last before the apparition reached them, and it exploded. In that instant, their disillusionment charms were rendered useless, as each of them were showered in dust. Heather, being at the back, received less of a coating than everyone else and she had remembered to keep her mouth tightly shut. Others were not as lucky and were now hacking loudly, trying to expel the dust from their lungs. Heather pushed the door closed behind them, keeping her wand aimed high over the heads of everyone else, staring up into the darkness of the upper banisters.
"What was he doing here?" asked Padma, pointing at the patch of carpet where the demented figure of Albus Dumbledore had emerged. From the looks of it, everyone else was wondering the same thing.
"Yeah, and how did you know how to kill it, Ron?" asked Seamus.
"Zip it, all of you," barked Proudfoot. "Remember why we're here. Focus on the job, save your questions for later. Understood?" he asked this final question to the team at large. Only after everyone had nodded agreement did he turn forward and raise his own wand. "Homenum Revelio" he muttered. "There's someone downstairs," he reported a moment later.
The hairs on the back of Heather's neck stood instantly on end. So, someone was using the house as a base after all. "This is Auror Proudfoot, Department of Magical Law Enforcement!" Proudfoot shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "Whoever is inside this house, come out now!" Mrs. Black's portrait, which had somehow slept through the exploding dust figure, now awoke and began screaming its usual litany of curses and insults. Over the caterwauling, Proudfoot waved Ron, Williamson, and Padma forward. Slowly, wands now poised for action, the group crept along.
About halfway along the hallway, level with Mrs. Black's portrait which Heather silenced with a stunning spell, another corridor branched off to the left towards the dining room and study. Daphne and Moore broke off to sweep these rooms while the rest of the team secured the staircases at the end of the hall. Under the mounted house elf heads they waited until Daphne reported the floor was clear. She and Moore then took up positions where they could see up and down both sets of stairs as well as the entrance hallway, while everyone else split up, four going up, four going down.
Heather, Honeywell, Seamus, and Savage were tasked with clearing the upper stories, which would take a good deal longer than sweeping the kitchen. Still, with at least one known suspect downstairs, it made sense to send more than just one pair to engage them. Advancing in pairs around each turn in the stairs, no one moving unless they were covered by another wand, they reached the first floor and began checking rooms. One pair would remain on the landing, watching the unchecked doors and the next set of stairs, while the other swept each room. It was quickly clear that someone had been in here since Heather, Hermione, and Ron had abandoned the house. Thick dust coated everything, and everywhere they looked they saw footprints.
By the time they finished with the second floor, Heather was almost certain she knew who would be waiting for them in the kitchen. There had been no calls of alarm from Daphne or Moore, which would have been easily heard over the banister on each floor, so whoever it was had either surrendered or been defeated easily. That tracked with Heather's suspicions. She had spent enough time here cleaning, to not recall with absolute certainty where items should have been. Tables and shelves had been cleared out or had large patches where the dust was not as thick. All through keeping an eye out for traps and spells, Heather began cataloguing just what was missing.
Her bedroom had been given similar treatment, looking much as it had after Snape's ransacking a year ago. Her clothes were everywhere, the doors of her wardrobe open wide and drawers thrown everywhere. Since it was the last floor, minus the attic, she and Honeywell had taken her room while Seamus and Savage checked Sirius'. Both emerged after declaring it clear with curious expressions on their still dusty faces.
"I could've sworn I just saw a picture of…well, how you used to look Heather." Seamus said.
"This was Sirius Black's house, wasn't it?" asked Savage. He pointed at the door with the peeling golden letters.
"Yes, it was." Heather said in a voice that she hoped would discourage further conversation. Even after having been officially exonerated of the murder he had not committed, in the minds of most of the wizarding community Sirius's name was still synonymous with murderer. She knew which picture Seamus was talking about, from when Sirius, James, Remus, and Wormtail had been at Hogwarts. Questions could wait till later; they still had the attic to check.
"Chudley Cannons for the cup!" she cried over the banister five minutes later, shaking her head. Ron had been tasked with coming up with the passwords for this operation and hadn't been able to resist.
"All the way" came Daphne's voice in reply with correct response. The subject in the basement must have been neutralized after all.
The kitchen lights had been lit, and the four aurors who had come straight down were now standing at the end of the table, looking down at a bound and helpless figure. On the long table was an empty sack surrounded by a dozen or more random objects. Heather pushed through the group and stared down at the sweaty face of Mundungus Fletcher. His eyes found hers and went wide with recognition. "Good," she thought, "he did remember." Hermione may have modified his memory after their last encounter, but those charms were not always foolproof.
He was thinner than he had been the last time she'd seen him, and his hair was unkempt and patchier than ever. She looked up from him to take in the objects littering the table. As she had suspected, he had once again been making off with Black family heirlooms to sell.
"He tried to hex me!" said an indignant Ron, breaking into Heather's train of thought. Ron accidentally knocked over a candelabra with his arm as he pointed at Mundungus. It clattered to the floor, missing his face by mere inches.
"From what we can tell he's been here for several days," added Proudfoot. He was taking notes on the various objects on a roll of parchment. All of it was going to have to be taken as evidence.
"What happens to him now?" asked Heather icily, returning her gaze to Mundungus's face. She was gratified to see fear there.
"Oh, we're taking him in." said Proudfoot. "He attacked an auror, that's enough by itself. Add on trespassing and attempted robbery and he'll be going away for a long time. Besides, I'm pretty sure he's got a few outstanding warrants already."
"No surprise there," muttered Ron.
"Err, sir," interjected Padma, "don't we need the homeowner to press charges before we can arrest him for trespassing and robbery?"
Proudfoot nodded and looked at Heather. "That's right, Patil. Potter?"
Heather stared into Mundungus's eyes and felt a sense of righteous fury she'd been holding onto for over two years. "Take him."
"What?" blurted out Seamus.
"This is my house, Seamus." Heather said, still not taking her eyes off of the cowering wizard on the floor. "My godfather, Sirius Black, left it to me. Everything here is mine, and this piece of rubbish has been stealing from me for far too long." She looked up at Seamus who looked like he'd just been hit over the head with a frying pan.
"Right, everyone. Let's get this done and get back to the office." Said Proudfoot with a tone of finality.