Disclaimer: Part two of 'Odd Ideas' number 102
There is Nothing so Satisfying, Than Vengeance Achieved.
"I see," Amelia said softly. She pulled a piece of parchment out of her desk and handed it to the girl. "Would you mind telling me what you think of this?"
Hermione took the paper from the woman and quickly read through it, her hands were trembling uncontrollably when she finished.
"Oh no, no, no, no, no," she sobbed. "Ron." She grabbed his sleeve.
Ron took the letter from his best friend. "This is genuine?" he asked, feeling faint.
"So far as we can tell," Amelia agreed. "Do you need me to call in a Healer?"
"That might be best," Ron agreed. It felt as if he were standing outside his body watching events unfold. "She hasn't been eating."
"They'll be here shortly," Amelia promised. "Do you have a way to get back to wherever you came from? I'm afraid your escort isn't going to be available."
"I'll get her back," Ron promised.
"Do not hesitate to ask for assistance if you need it. I, and by extension this entire department owe Mr. Potter a great deal for what he's done." Amelia took the paper back. "And as Mr. Potter is a man that values his friendships, it would not do to deny you anything."
"Thank you." Ron wrapped an awkward arm around his friend. "If you don't mind, we'd . . . could you call us in for a meeting every day?"
"Afraid that Dumbledore is going to confine you to quarters?"
"That and we'd like to get all the news you have about Harry," Ron agreed.
"I will see to it," Amelia agreed. "Will that be all, Mr. Weasley?"
"Aside from the Healers, yes."
Amelia walked out of her office and worked herself into a fury as she approached the interrogation room.
"Talk!" she barked as she flung open the door and stormed in.
"Swear to god boss, I didn't know!" Tonks said quickly. "I thought we were guarding the kid from Death Eaters, I never would have . . . I swear to god boss, I really didn't know."
"You are going to tell me every detail you know about Dumbledore's little club, you are not going to hold anything back, you are not going to hide anything, and you are not going to protect anyone!" Amelia growled.
"I'll tell you everything I can, boss. Charm's preventing me from telling you a couple things," Tonks agreed quickly. "I really thought we were helping him, boss. I really messed up, I . . . what do you want to know first, boss?"
"Everything!"
IIIIIIIIII
Harry squinted at the pages in the Drug reference manual as he tried to figure out the right combination of painkillers and stimulants. The potions were beginning to lose their effectiveness and so he'd been forced to turn to muggle pharmaceuticals to keep going.
IIIIIIIIII
Ron felt helpless as he guided Hermione to her room. The girl had been inconsolable since their meeting with Madame Bones. He took a couple deep breaths, and suddenly, in a flash he knew what he had to do. Ron felt like he was an observer in his own body as he walked into the Order meeting.
"Ronald, go back up stairs."
He ignored his mother's instructions as he walked up to the head of the table.
"Albus Dumbledore," Ron said formally. "I challenge you to a duel."
"What?" Molly screamed. The rest of the Order just stared at the boy in shock.
"To the death," Ron added.
"I refuse," Dumbledore said formally. "My dear boy, what's this . . ."
"Then let this be a warning," Ron interrupted. "If Harry dies, one of us will soon follow and I won't grant you the courtesy of a challenge." With that, Ron spun on his heel and marched out of the room. Ignoring the chaos he'd thrown the room into.
IIIIIIIIII
Harry woke up as the sun rose. He'd gotten a full night sleep, he'd gotten enough of the bastards that they either couldn't, or wouldn't keep up the rate of attack. They'd given up initiative, it was time to stop reacting.
He took a handful of pills and washed it down with a couple potions. It was a race to see what would get him first; the death eaters, Voldemort, his injuries, or an overdose. Harry's money was on overdose, he had no intention of letting himself die when there was even a single one of the bastards left above ground.
"Who to go after first?" He laughed, of course, there was only one choice.
IIIIIIIIII
Lucius awoke in a cold sweat. What in the world had gotten him up at this ungodly hour? A quick check of the wards revealed . . . his heart stopped, a quick check of the wards revealed that he had no wards.
He had to get his wand, he had to . . . the door blew off its hinges.
"Rumpere," Harry incanted. Three more hexes, the Malfoy line had ended, the house was aflame, and Harry was on his way to the next target.
IIIIIIIIII
Hermione glared at the pink haired Auror, projecting every bit of hate, every bit of rage she felt for the crimes her friend had suffered.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Tonks whispered.
"You didn't know?" Hermione hissed. "How is that supposed to bring Harry back?"
Ron put a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Dumbledore fooled us. We can't blame her for that."
"About that." Tonks licked her lips. "I'm an Auror. It might be best to let me go first to wear him down."
"Thank you, but no." Ron smiled. "I said what I said and I stand by it."
"First for what?" Hermione asked.
"I told Dumbledore that I'd kill him if Harry died," Ron replied. He turned back to Tonks. "Was that all?"
"Ron," Hermione sobbed.
"Madame Bones sent me to bring you back to the Department," Tonks said.
"Good news?" Ron asked hopefully.
"No news," Tonks replied.
IIIIIIIIII
"Boss," A breathless Auror barged into Amelia's office.
"What is it?" Amelia demanded.
"It's Potter," the man said quickly.
"What about him?" Amelia held her breath while she waited for the answer.
"He's gone on the offensive," the Auror replied. "Malfoys, Flints, and Carrows are gone."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Potter killed them all and . . ."
"Chief," another Auror called out. "I've got someone here you're gonna want to have a word with."
"Oh?" Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Me," the Head of the Greengrass family said bluntly. "Unless you'd like to tell your Aurors to let me go."
"He was on the scene of Potter's latest attack," the Auror said helpfully. "Says he saw the whole thing."
"Step into my office," Amelia said calmly.
"Said the Auror to the . . ." he trailed off.
"What?" Amelia prompted.
"I try not to make a habit of making statements that could be incriminating," he replied with an easy smile.
"Care to explain what happened?" Amelia asked.
"Care to offer me immunity," the scion of the Greengrass family retorted.
"What are we talking about?" Amelia asked. "Hypothetically speaking."
"Hypothetically?" He mused. "Oh, I'd say several counts of trafficking in illegal potions components. Perhaps a couple more of tax evasion and several more of smuggling."
"No murder or anything to do with Death Eaters?" Amelia asked intently.
"Aside from a normal business relationship?"
"Aside from that, yes."
"Then no murder or association with Death Eaters beyond what was necessary to sell potions ingredients to men I knew or suspected to be Death Eaters."
"Alright then," Amelia agreed, "I'll agree to overlook any nonviolent crimes such as tax evasion, smuggling, trafficking in illegal items, and the like."
"Thank you," he sighed.
"So what happened?"
"I was making a rather large sale to twelve Death Eaters," Greengrass began. "I do not know what it is, but the box is still in my sitting room if you'd like to confiscate it."
"I'll send some men, continue."
"Six of them died in a moment," he said in an admiring voice. "One minute they were joking and the next they were dead, it was..." he fell silent unable to find the words to describe it.
"Potter?"
"Revealed himself and began dueling the other six." He laughed. "My instructor used to say that skill beats speed and power. He was wrong. Potter didn't use many spells and he was a bit sloppy with the ones he did, but by god the power." He shook his head in wonder. "Not to mention the fact that the boy's reflexes are inhuman."
"What happened next?"
"They hit Potter with one of the unforgivables," he replied.
"Which one?"
"I don't know."
"How can you not know?" Amelia demanded.
"Because I lost track. I saw them cast several throughout the rest of the fight and I saw all three connect more then once," Greengrass replied. "He shrugged off the crucio like it was nothing, wasn't slowed by the imperio, and I'm not sure he even noticed when he was hit by the killing curse. It was like something out of a legend."
"I see, what were you doing?"
"Hiding under a table and hoping that I didn't get hit," he said honestly. "Potter killed each of his opponents and turned to me. I thought I was going to die but he just squinted at my face for a few seconds and turned away. I called out and to my surprise, he stopped."
"Did he say anything?"
"He thanked me after I gave him a chance to plunder my potions cabinet, and again when I had a house elf prepare a meal to go."
"Why did you do that?"
"I like to stay on the good side of wizards that posses the power to extinguish my family line," he explained. "It's the reason I got into the import business."
"Oh?"
"I'm much more valuable as an independent without a mark then I would be as a follower." He gave a tight smile. "So long as the deliveries are on time, my family is left alone."
"I see."
"Not to mention the opportunities it gives me to gain valuable contacts in other places, places far from the conflict at home."
"Then why are your daughters in Hogwarts?"
"My clients would get nervous if they thought I was preparing to flee the country," he sighed. "The girls both wear portkeys at all times, activating one will activate them both."
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Greengrass."
"A pleasure to be of some service to the Director of Magical Law Enforcement."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry wrapped his left hand around his nemesis' throat and drove the remains of his shattered wand into Voldemort's eye with his right.
The family watched in shock as the boy throttled the darkest wizard of the century for a few seconds before loosing his grip to pick up a rock. Again and again the boy drove the rock into the Dark Lord's ruined face until the skull shattered and chunks of brain began spattering onto his face.
"He's dead, lad," the husband said softly. "You've won."
"I've won," Harry said, tasting the word. "I got them all." The boy tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn't support him. As his vision began to dim he could hear Hermione's voice quoting 'He who seeks vengeance must dig two graves: one for his enemy and one for himself'.
He chuckled. It seemed fitting that with Voldemort dead he died himself. His purpose was done and now... he could be with his friends again.
AN: Still not too happy with this, but it's better than the last version.
Beta by dogbertcarroll who deserves much thanks for all the time he spends polishing my fics.
Omake by: Just an old grump
No sound is more terrifying to an auror than silence, Amelia thought as she moved through the Riddle manor. Silence means a surprise is waiting around the corner; silence means a trap is about to spring, that an ambush is waiting to ground. Silence was all she got as she guided her team through the manor, slowly working her way to the main ballroom.
So far, the place was a charnal house. Potter (who else could it be?) had not been subtle in his dealings; she'd already counted no less than four families extinct in her walk, and she hadn't even made it to the main room yet. Alexander Nott had not survived; Michael Selwyn hadn't won; the Jugsons had no sons left. The fight had been to the knife, with blood and gore splattered over the walls and ceiling, severed limbs and heads demonstrating the sheer brutality of the moment.
She wasn't hearing anything, but the smell of death was overwhelming. This definitely called for a shower when she was done.
In a perverse way, she was relieved when she made it to what she presumed to be the throne room. The main double-doors had been blown off the hinges; one bolt still hung on stubbornly, leaving a single door leaning off to one side. She leaped and rolled over to the other side of the door, then gestured to her aurors, signing her intention to enter.
Shacklebolt took his position opposite her, and nodded. With moves practiced over decades of service, the two entered the main room, shields up and wands drawn, waiting for any spells that could come their way.
More silence awaited them. More gore. No one had survived, it seemed. Snape had been decapitated when the door was blown; his severed head barely had time to register surprise. Crabbe curled up in a corner, his lips stained with his own blood, his intestines held in his hands. The Parkinsons... well, they both were there, she thought, but it'd be a challenge putting them back together. And in the center, at the throne...
Voldemort had seen better days. The Dark Lord's broken wand was still clenched in his hand; what was left of his other arm had been curled around him, clearly severed before the end. Given the blood, she suspected the cause of death was a nasty cut to his leg severing the femoral artery; whoever he'd fought against hadn't stopped there, though. The remains of another wizard's wand poked out from his eye; his skull had been smashed into a bloody pulp, splattering blood and brains around his throne.
Murderers, all. Murderers - except the last. Amelia screwed her eyes shut at the final, then forced them back open. Someone had to see; someone had to remember; someone had to tell the story.
A bloody smear trail led back from Voldemort's body to the winner of the fight - if anyone could be called a winner. Harry Potter lay collapsed on the ground, having apparently won his battle against Voldemort. A pool of crimson lay around him, a dark halo surrounding his head. He'd been personal in his destruction of the Dark Lord, then had tried to crawl away.
She blinked in surprise. Through all of this carnage, through all this death, he'd ended with a smile on his face.