Harry was looking at an assembly of both the DA and the higher ranking recruits, those who had proven themselves on recent missions. Just recently, when Ron contacted them, they had gained critical intel about the Ministry and some of the planned releases about the Death Eaters, informing his plans about their next move. If anyone wondered why the other two Dragon Marshals had not returned, no one said anything.

"We failed. Most likely, it's a conventional failure, and we just weren't careful enough with the Trace, and that allowed someone to triangulate our position. Many of you don't really know how it works; I asked- and many of you don't think minors should be using wands anywhere near muggle areas." He took a breath. "In short, the Trace- I had a run in with it once thanks to our guest here- is a layer of warding, charms and enchantments, over all muggle settlements in the country. If anyone casts any kind of active spell there; doesn't matter if it's wandless- they'll be notified, but they'll pretty much toss it out if there's an adult witch or wizard living there. If you haven't been out of Hogwarts, you wouldn't believe the kind of employees they've got at the Ministry. If you can barely read a paragraph without checking the Quidditch scores in the paper, if you can't tell the difference between getting older and growing up, they'll put you at a post like Trace Checking. It requires a human intelligence, but just barely; there's probably a handful of flobberworms who could do it with a dictionary and a parrot helping them out."

Someone laughed with a total lack of certainty that laughter was the intended, appropriate response. Sure enough, another voice advised silence.

"Most likely, they figured out who was missing from their dungeon in the castle, and they figured there would be minors somewhere practicing magic. Initially, we were in an area that's never had Trace warding, but we couldn't stay there. Most likely, they paid more attention to it and figured out we were moving around, and wouldn't expect an attack when we first arrived at a new place. They looked for the first report of a minor using a spell close enough to a muggle area and apparated with the largest force they had on hand. From what I understand, it was all Aurors- we're trained, but not well enough to take them on, and not when they have about a two-to-one advantage, with four of us away." He took a look around. "We've been over the rest; everything I already knew. I evaluate the failure to be one we all share. Does anyone have a problem with that?"

No one said anything. Most likely, enough of them considered it to be an unavoidable problem, or nothing warranting a demotion, and if anyone did, they would not say so out of fear of disapproval.

"I take complaints, as always. You don't have to say it in front of everyone. At this point, though, while we've got everyone here, there's something more important to address. It's about our next move." He made a motion to three of the recruits and they joined him at the front. "Sergeants Westenberg, Snodley, and Kirke have been promoted for their efforts. They have found that Aurors almost entirely receive their orders through the Patronus Charm when they're out in the field, and that Rufus Scrimgeour casts a non-corporeal one. As many of us know, they speak with the caster's voice, but that's something that can be faked."

They had all heard about how the Aurors, probably after dropping everyone off at Azkaban, went to Hogwarts for some plan involving the captives there, and their only chance at dealing with such a large force was to give out false orders. Harry told them that his idea was to order them to return the children to their parents, which would probably result in their commander acting like he had only just heard that they were being held captive, at least as soon as it was impossible to put a lid on things again. He would then have no choice but to act like he opposed the Minister, and the institution as a whole might look for a way to use that fake conflict, but the effect on the general public would probably be positive; they would trust the institution somewhat less.

"I'm not sure about that," the newly promoted Sergeant Westenberg said. "Some of the cleverer members of the government would probably decide just to put Fudge out to pasture and let the Auror Corps redeem the sinking ship. People might trust some of the offices less, but the institution as a whole would be trusted more; it's a comforting idea that even if one official abuses power, another would be there to expose and reverse it. To be honest, that might be what they have planned. It would be just perfect if they intend to give the Aurors more authority, and the Death Eaters aren't leaving them with much of a choice."

"That's what they would do, especially after Crouch was killed a few years ago," Susan said, agreeing with the assessment. It seemed she had recovered nicely after the dementors. "They can't exactly roll back the way they treated him, shoving him off in some unimportant office to act like they didn't just give him unlimited power for the last ten years of the war. The apology goes to the department in general."

"We free them ourselves, then," Harry said. "We should be careful to demonstrate that they were in Ministry custody the entire time. We'll use the fake orders to send the Aurors out against a likely target, something that will at least delay them, like a certain Manor that it would take them a long time to explore." The idea was not to give them something to fight, just to get them out of the way- almost certainly, however it turned out, Voldemort's return would not be acknowledged, but it would not be too surprising to the units on the ground if Scrimgeour privately believed in it.

It seemed like there was a general agreement, which was convenient, because he had to meet up with Hermione; she was contacting him again.

"We're in Knockturn Alley."

"Stay right there."

Harry was not sure whether or not to be surprised, but he realized that it would have been useless not to go all the way to the other Vanishing Cabinet, wherever it happened to be. His friends did not turn out to be too far in, but they were happy to be warped out as soon as he arrived. Questions could wait until they were back.

"Everyone's here," Ron said, looking around. "You did it."

"We figured it out and they made the mistake of not guarding the place properly. I think we also managed to distract them, but maybe they didn't fall for that. Get caught up with the others later. Hermione, you go and talk to those three Sergeants and teach them the protective spells. We don't need to get through everything today."

"Of course," she said, probably figuring out what had happened if she had not already. "Tell Harry what happened on our end."

"I reckon I should start with what I found in the Room?"

"I forgot about that actually, what was it?"

"There were a few different books on dark magic and a few dark artefacts. I'm guessing that at some point, they were doing a search, and students tossed theirs away."

"I'll see who's on rotation for learning more dark stuff. What kind of things did they have in there, then?"

"Bewitched books that might serve as traps if you couldn't detect there was something wrong with them. There was a music box, like the one we found in Grimmauld Place- we've got Ginny to thank for that one. She later said she recognized it as dark right away."

"What does it do?"

"I didn't check. I slammed it shut right away. Anyway, there were a few dark detectors- Foe Glasses, Probity Probes- you get the idea."

"Crouch's son showed me a Secrecy Sensor when I was in his office once. He said that it basically works on ill intent, so it doesn't detect dark magic, just the kind of emotional context you would normally expect someone to have when using it. There wouldn't be a way to detect anything dark; it's too broad of a field."

"Honestly, mate, I've got no idea," Ron admitted, letting out some air. "Get someone who might understand it to look into it. We ended up in Borgin and Burke's."

"Funny; I've been there once, but I didn't know there was a- wait, was that the same cabinet? To think..." He shook his head. It hardly mattered now. "What was Lucius Malfoy doing there, though? I don't know of his son ever having any dark artefacts while we were in school, though the man behind the counter was clearly pushing something on him." He thought for a moment. "Actually, someone could have been using the cabinet to get to and from the school a while back, and that could be where all the dark stuff originated in the first place. Hermione showed me the memory; I know that it used to be stored there."

"Merlin knows how much useless rubbish there was in there," his friend said, shaking his head in turn. "It could have come from that shop, but I honestly haven't the foggiest." He squinted. "Wait a tick, what did bloody... Voldemort have to do with that place?"

"That's what I want to know. There's no way the owner of the store didn't know that the Vanishing Cabinet was a secret way into Hogwarts, assuming it was working."

"It wouldn't have been working. When I was about four, my dad was part of a raid for bewitched objects and supposedly they covered all the ground they could cover. If it was sitting in his shop in broad daylight, or as close as it gets on Knockturn Alley, they would have asked if it was still working, and the only excuse he could have used was that it wasn't, and they would have tested it. Simple things, like temporarily shutting it down, wouldn't have worked. He could have claimed that someone took it in for repair, and that there was nothing he could have done without the other one, and that he couldn't locate the other one. A way into Hogwarts would have made him look like a criminal, not just someone who forgot about a regulatory change, or thought he was the exception to some rule."

Harry frowned. It seemed pointless to have something like that in the shop, taking up space, especially when the only argument for being allowed to have it was that it was thoroughly useless. When he hid in it, there was nothing inside, suggesting he had not been using it for storage. Had he known that Voldemort had gotten it to work once?

"I think the fact that it was broken was part of the plan," he said after a moment. "I'm not sure why, but that man was working with Voldemort. At some point during the nineteen fifties, or maybe around the end of his school days, he took an interest in the shop, maybe in the kinds of things it had to offer. That man was interested, really interested, in the book that Malfoy was carrying- he might have even known that it was a Horcrux. The diary was the first one, and that tiara thing that you stole might have been the second or third."

"The shop sold some ancient stuff, or that was what was advertised," Ron said. "I saw some old doll thing from before the Statute and it was about as creepy as you would have thought. If he wanted old and significant for some reason, I reckon that would be the place to go." It was his turn to frown. "There's too much that we don't know, though. We could go back over there, but I don't know what we would get out of the old man. It didn't seem like he was all there."

His friend had more experience with old people than he did, and had said that even in just a few years, you could go from carrying on conversations and remembering everything to effectively disabled. His aunt Muriel was still living and had not progressed that far yet, but his uncle Bilius, from whom he got his middle name, did not exactly go quietly into that good night. Even worse than regular degradation, though, Voldemort had probably just used a memory charm or something to keep the old man at the shop from saying anything. It seemed like the most basic thing he could have done to keep anyone else from following his trail, and yet, at the same time, in his vanity he might have wanted someone to be able to find out how he went from humble beginnings to where he was at the present. In the diary, it came up that he asked to be able to spend the holiday at the school, suggesting that he had a home life to which he would rather not return.

"I've got a confession," he said after a moment.

"What's that, mate?"

"There've been times that I've wanted someone to come behind me and... I don't know, document everything that happened with me... just to set the record straight. We tried to do that by going to the Quibbler, but really, I feel like if anyone wanted to know, it would be easy enough to find out. Up until the graveyard, you could probably talk to any amount of people who wouldn't have had any reason to lie if you wanted to find out the truth."

"I mean, you've got every reason. There's been a load of terrible stuff that's happened, and it's a damn wonder you haven't cracked yet."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I just don't see how it's a confession." He thought for a moment. "You think Voldemort is doing the same thing?"

"I think that if he really wanted, he could have gone on a campaign to eliminate all the evidence of his Horcruces. He sees himself as the main character of his own story, and he has to leave something for the historians to figure out after he wins. Since he has most of the cards right now, it's safe to say that he intends to win by personally killing me."

It was a decent guess, but there was no way that they could use the information, even if they could take it as fact. They knew that their enemy was more concerned about dying than most, but he was reasonably confident in his abilities.

"The others are getting things ready. Terry's good with the Patronus, so that's most of what we need. You said some of the others aren't going to be able to join us?"

"Daphne's helping them. We'll probably need Hermione to come with us so we can get a signal from her. We'll only take the people we need anyway. Most likely, they won't have everyone there still, thanks to the Death Eaters."

Ron did not seem to be interested in his confession. Either he was rejecting it entirely, or he was basically saying that his own sense of guilt of being similar to Voldemort was unimportant. He had no illusions about how his friends thought and felt about him, but it was something of a surprise; he would have expected a clearer response, but perhaps he should be grateful he did not get the hour long discussion he would have with someone who would be more inclined to be careful with his feelings. It was almost refreshing to get the subject jerked back to what was going on.

With the team together, it was the first time any of the recruits were being taken, not as backup, and each one of them had to sign the same contract against betraying the group. Effectively, they could be trusted with their new ranks and could command other recruits, if the situation called for it. He had asked Hermione what the advantage of a magical contract was over an Unbreakable Vow, which the others had mentioned, and she said that the vow would know whether or not you broke it, but not only did she not know how to set one of those up, but the contract allowed for more specification and was configured for more than two people. If nothing else, it was convenient, and not technically dark magic.

"You'll be aware of the location of our base, but we're making you in charge of a unit of recruits," he told the three of them when they were getting ready. The quickest, safest way in was to apparate into Borgin and Burkes, stun the man behind the counter, and cast a muffling charm to cover up the sound of the successive apparations. Ron coughed and said that he was pretty sure the man was still stunned and they had already cast a muffler just as a matter of procedure.

"Perfect. That means we're going."

One advantage that he had not expected was that Hermione was already of age, having been born in September. It had become a common belief among wizards and muggles alike that the oldest in a year level usually ended up being the smartest, starting with an advantage and then leaning into it, but he was perfectly certain she would have been among the best in any year level.

"Terry; keep watch until we're all through," he said, sending the chaplain to a corner of the store where he could see anyone passing by the window, which revealed little of the interior to passers-by. "Hannah- damn it, we don't have her- Michael-"

"We don't have him either," Neville said.

"We'll be fine, then."

"No, really, what were you about to tell our healers to do, and why don't we need them?"

"Well, if we don't have them, and we're still attacking when we have the opportunity, then we'll just have to avoid getting killed in the process."

"Right."

Their small unit of eight was through right after he was done. Hannah was helping the others, and Michael was badly sidelined by the dementors. They could guess that he was having a worse time of it because he had never been exposed to them before, but it hardly mattered. What mattered was stealing a handful of the wands and seeing if they could be repurposed.

"Not all of these are the right wood or core," Neville muttered. "You couldn't just cut them to length, either."

"Does length matter as much as the other factors?" Blaise asked.

"Of course."

"Steal as many of them as you can, then. We'll see which ones work. Reducto." Harry did not particularly like the look of a porcelain doll with a music box of its own; that was like a slasher trope waiting to happen. "Unless I am made aware that Head Auror Scrimgeour believes in the return of Voldemort and is doing the best he can to bring that reality to light, my position on killing his units remains the same. Their lives are forfeit; they're being sacrificed against an enemy for which they have not been prepared."

No one had any disagreements. Even if killing Aurors was on the table, theoretically, many of them had only just been overwhelmed by a group of them. Their odds of winning any kind of encounter to make the ethical concerns relevant were low, so his statement could be viewed as a vote of confidence, and it only remained to be seen how sincere it truly was; men sent out across no man's land were not usually enthused by their commanders saying they would all be home before long, just that there was another charge of the bayonets to which they needed to attend.

It seemed like it was going to be Neville one way or the other.

"Harry, I mean, we all think it's swell that-"

"I mean it, all of you," he said. "Even if we really are just a sub-par version of the Death Eaters, we've all sworn to do the best we can here. The contract doesn't account for any of your second-guessing, and that includes you three," he said, pointing his wand at the Sergeants. "Are we clear?"

"Absolutely." Even as he spoke, Terry looked strangely pained.