The Birds
"No," Tonks denied immediately as Harry explained his plan to her. "No, I will not let him take that risk."
"It might be our only way to make this work. Your father knows that he is a high-profile target, and he will not be left vulnerable for a single second. You have my word that he will be safe. I will even put both of them in hiding when it is done."
Tonks released a deep breath, and her blue eyes met Harry's almost pleadingly.
"I get it," she whispered. "Every day I see where we are and what it is like for everyone out there, but it's my dad."
"I know," Harry comforted, "but he wants to help. He has just as much right as any of us to do his part, and this is the best thing he can do. He will be fine, Tonks. If it helps, you can even come along with us to be there for yourself."
She was not convinced, but Harry was determined for the plan to go ahead.
Ted Tonks had willingly volunteered to help, and there was no other who had made it to the Forbidden Forest that would be so enticing as bait, though Harry hated to think of the man as such.
Mr Tonks was a kindly man, fiercely protective of his family.
That was why he had gone into hiding, because he knew his wife and daughter would get no peace if he remained in the home they shared.
"If I can be there, and you give me your word that he will be safe, then I will agree, but you have to promise me you will do whatever it takes, Potter."
"You have my word," Harry agreed immediately.
It was odd to see the forest so lively.
It had always been so peaceful with only the sounds of nature breaking the silence when Harry and Morgana had lived amongst the trees, but now, dozens of people were here, hiding from the Dark Lord's followers who were endlessly hunting them.
Morgana had done an incredible job at building houses, and Sirius was more than happy to ensure food was regularly delivered to men, women, and children here.
For the most part, they were able to live harmoniously without the fear of being taken in the night, but the hardships of the war still lingered over them.
Most were here only because they were fortunate enough to flee after members of their family or neighbours had been taken and not seen since, and that was not something easily forgotten.
Still, those here had not been faced with the same fate, and each of them were grateful for all Morgana had done.
As indifferent as she could be when it came to others, his wife had more than gone the extra mile to help those who needed it most, and Harry could not be prouder of what he'd achieved.
"I expect my daughter gave you quite the earful," Ted chuckled as Harry approached.
"She did."
"Ah, she is too much like her mother in some ways, but I like to think she takes after me more. Nymphadora is rather outgoing and accommodating to those who accept her for who she is."
"Your wife isn't?"
"My wife is a Black, Harry. She may have bucked the trend by marrying me, but believe me, she hasn't forgotten where she comes from. Why do you think it is she is not harassed so much because of my absence?"
"I expect it's because she can handle herself well enough."
Ted nodded.
"Believe it or not, she and Bellatrix were once inseparable," he sighed, "until our love came between them. Even so, Bella knew Andi would not change her mind, and more than a few of the Blacks found out for themselves that she was just like them when it came to getting her point across. Fortunately for me, I have rarely found myself on the wrong side of her, nor would I wish to."
"Are all the Blacks a bit, you know, mad?"
Ted nodded darkly.
"Old Arcturus was the worst of them. Even now most of the older lot will shit themselves at the mention of his name. Rumours had it Riddle tried to bring him into the fold, but old Arcturus told the git to get stuffed and the Dark Lord left him well alone."
"That would be Sirius's grandfather?"
"And your great uncle," Ted replied. "A hard bastard if there ever was one, just like your grandfather. The two of them were as thick as thieves, and not just because of Charlus and Dorea being married. They fought together on the continent before that against Grindelwald."
"I didn't know that."
"I suppose there's not much you do know about your family," Ted said apologetically, "but if there's anyone that can tell you about your grandmother, it's Andi. Narcissa was closer to her before she married Lucius, but Andi stayed in touch, even after the rest of the family cut her out."
"I might just do that," Harry mused aloud.
He knew so little about his parents, and even less than the generation that came before them. It would be nice to know a little more of where he came from, and perhaps fill in the considerable gap between the Peverell and Potter lines.
"Harry, I was thinking," Ted spoke once more, breaking into his thoughts. "Would it not be more beneficial if I let them take me to wherever they are hiding the others?"
"It would," Harry agreed, "but it is far too dangerous and risky. Chances are, the others are being kept somewhere that no other can get to, and there is no telling what would happen to you, Ted. Bellatrix will learn of your capture, and I can't imagine her treating you so kindly."
The man shuddered at the thought.
"Perhaps you're right," he conceded. "I just want to help as many of them as I can."
"What you're doing is more than enough, Ted," Harry assured him. "If we can capture some alive, we might just learn all we need to rescue the others."
"And you'll do that?"
"I will," Harry promised. "When I discover where they are, I will find a way to get to them."
Ted nodded appreciatively before looking towards the darkening sky.
"And I is going to kill me for this," he chuckled humourlessly.
"That's if this works," Harry pointed out.
"It will," Ted said confidently. "I know who informed on us, and I will ensure she sees me."
"But you must make it seem as though you are sneaking."
"Harry, I will be sneaking. Aside from anything else, I wish to see my wife again, even if it proves to be for the last time. I know you understand that," he added, nodding towards Morgana who was only a short distance away.
"I do," Harry replied, "but this is not it for you. Once you've played your part, you will be taken straight to Grimmauld Place."
Ted grimaced at the thought.
"The conversation between Andi and Sirius will be quite something."
"Just wait until you meet the portrait of Walburga Black," Harry guffawed, clapping the suddenly pale man on the shoulder.
"The old bag has a portrait?"
Harry nodded.
"And she is an absolute delight. She will love to have you as a guest."
Ted could only shake his head in response and Harry gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.
"Are you ready for this?"
Ted nodded.
"As I'll ever be."
"Good, and remember, you won't be able to see me, but I'll be there. I won't let anything happen to you or your family."
"I know you won't," Ted replied with a nervous smile. "If what everyone here thinks of you is anything to go by, I know I have nothing to worry about."
(Break)
Aberforth said nothing as he poured a drink and placed it on the bar in front of Albus before returning to polishing the glass he'd been occupying himself with when his brother had entered.
Despite being advised to keep the Hog's Head closed, Aberforth had refused, and immediately set to work rebuilding his home and business only a matter of days after the fighting at Hogwarts had concluded.
He'd allowed Harry to add some rather clever protections, but had declined Albus's offer to do so.
Even so, the older Dumbledore sibling had made more of an effort to visit his brother regularly.
Without Aberforth, Albus knew he might not be here now, and he would be eternally grateful for what had been done for him.
"Are you really going to make a habit of coming here every week?"
"It had crossed my mind to do so."
Aberforth cursed under his breath and shook his head.
"I already told you, you don't owe me a damned thing, Albie."
"I know." Albus took a sip of his drink and nodded satisfactorily.
It wasn't often he indulged in such things, but after what had happened to him only months prior, he'd decided that doing so would do him no harm. He was more than a century old now, and life was a precious thing to be cherished in the simplest moments.
Of course, he could buy his own and drink it in the comfort of the castle, or even frequent the much friendlier Three Broomsticks, but this was where he wished to be.
"I suppose I'll have one with you, but you're paying!" Aberforth grumbled, pouring himself a measure of Firewhiskey.
Albus chuckled as he raised his glass, and Aberforth scowled in return.
"Bloody hell, go on, spit it out, whatever it is you want to say," the other man huffed irritably.
"You do not need to listen to my problems," Albus said dismissively.
"True, but there's not much else going on in here," Aberforth pointed out, nodding towards the empty pub.
Albus took another sip of his drink.
"I do have one problem concerning a student."
"A student?"
"For the next few months, at least," Albus sighed. "He has taken Riddle's mark and has been instructed to kill me."
"And you allow him in your school?"
"Well, there is no real proof of the task he has been given. Thus far, he has been thwarted at every turn, and fortunately, no one has been hurt, but Harry has all but given me an ultimatum. He has given me a week to solve the problem, or he will do so himself."
Aberforth chuckled.
"You know, I like Potter. If you hadn't become so damned morally obligated, you might've been just like him."
Albus shook his head.
"The world is not big enough for two Harry's, and no, I could never have done what he has. I am no warrior, Aberforth, just a man with a keen mind and a little talent with magic."
Aberforth snorted.
"You underestimate yourself, brother. We both know you are probably the most gifted wizard born in this dump in centuries. The truth of it doesn't shame me."
Albus offered his brother a sad smile.
Aberforth was not without his own talent, but his life had been made difficult by those expecting him to be Albus's equal.
In many ways, he was, and others, he was better, but few had paid him any mind when he'd not been so keen on showing his potential as Albus had been.
"Perhaps," he agreed uneasily, "but my prowess is not what matters here. I remain unsure what I should do."
Aberforth scowled.
"What you should do is damned obvious. The boy, well, man, is a threat to all around him. If he has failed to kill you and only as a few months at best to get the job done, he will become more desperate, making him more dangerous. Come on, Albie, you don't need me to tell you that," he chided. "What is Potter suggesting?"
"I don't know what he will do."
"You think he will him."
"The thought has crossed my mind."
Aberforth released a deep breath.
"It would be easier to allow him to do it. That way, your conscience is clear and your hands are clean. We both know you won't let that happen, but what you are struggling with is confronting him. The moment you inform him that you know of his plan, there is no going back."
Albus nodded.
"I fear he will not accept any help I may be able to offer him."
"But that is his decision. You can only be responsible for others so far, brother. If he does not accept the olive branch, what happens next is on him."
"Death," Albus said sadly.
"From either the master he pledged himself to, or Potter, who will not wrestle with his conscience as you do. Is this because of Snape?"
"Severus?"
Aberforth hummed disapprovingly.
"They're not all like him, and even though you have not shared his sudden change of heart, I would bet this shithole that it wasn't because he one day woke up and regretted his choices."
It hadn't been, not really.
Severus had come as a desperate man to Dumbledore to plead for Lily's life. He'd never mentioned anything he had done in the name of the Dark Lord, nor had Albus asked.
It was a truth he'd rather remain ignorant of.
"I must speak with Draco," he sighed. "He will get no forgiveness from Harry."
"He should get none from you," Aberforth grumbled. "How many attempts has he made on your life?"
"Four?"
Aberforth shook his head.
"One is enough to learn a valuable lesson, but four is the actions of a willing and calculated killer. "Be careful, Albus. He will not react well to being discovered and confronted."
Albus deflated as he took another sip of his drink to embolden himself for what was to come.
Aberforth was right.
Draco would be desperate, and there was no telling how he would react.
Not that Albus feared the young man.
No, he was more concerned about what he may be forced to do to ensure Draco could not harm any other.
(Break)
As welcome as the report that three Aurors had been killed during the attack was, the Dark Lord was more alarmed by how quickly Potter had arrived on the scene.
Having reviewed Bellatrix's memories, it had taken less than two minutes; much quicker than Dumbledore's foolish, or the rest of the wayward Aurors had made it to Bristol.
It was concerning to say the least, and though the Dark Lord was keen to be rid of what remained of the former establishment, taking such risks when Potter was so alert would not end well for him and his followers.
Even so, it was difficult to ignore the information he had gathered from the Ministry of Magic pertaining to those employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, particularly the personnel files.
He had names, addresses, and a wealth of information about each Auror that had absconded, but given how quickly Potter had responded, The Dark Lord was reluctant to use it.
For now, at least.
That meant that Bellatrix would have to remain content with only occasional and sporadic outings from here on out.
Making it a regular occurrence would only end in disaster for his most loyal followers.
'I do not fear Potter, my lord!'
'Then you are less clever than I have always given you credit for. He will kill you, Bella.'
'I welcome his attempt!'
The Dark Lord shook his head.
'I would not, and that is my final word on the matter. You will need to find other ways of occupying your time.'
She had not been pleased by his refusal to allow her to continue with the attacks, but it was only her pride and stubbornness that clouded her judgement so.
The threat Potter posed could not be ignored, after all.
"What is it now?" The Dark Lord grumbled to himself as a disturbance sounded a short distance away in the manor.
Vowing to curse someone if it proved to be for nothing, he stalked from his room to find a large group of Snatchers had congregated in the foyer once more.
He looked at Scabior questioningly as the man prepared his group to move out quickly.
"We received a tip, my lord, from a source that has proven to be very reliable to us, but we must act quickly. She sent it through the Ministry only a matter of moments ago, but every las second counts."
"Then go," the Dark Lord instructed.
Scabior nodded, and only a moment later, he and his group of skilled Snatchers were gone, leaving him to return to his own thoughts.
Potter.
For too long the man had been a thorn in his side, and only proved to be more so the longer the war was dragged out.
Still, with life only becoming more difficult for those that refused to concede defeat to the Dark Lord and his forces, it was only a matter of time before they broke, and when they did, Lord Voldemort would be ready to cleanse Britain of his remaining enemies, preferably in one fell swoop.
(Break)
He paused for a moment to take in his surroundings, and smiled nostalgically as a wave of memories came to the forefront of his mind.
Ted had spent countless hours in the nearby park with his daughter, pushing her on the swings, and spinning her on the little roundabout until Nymphadora had been unable to stand without falling over.
Under the tree a little further on, they would sit and have family picnics, where Andromeda would chide him for allowing the little girl to have too much chocolate.
She didn't mind really, but Andi always saw it as her duty to be the responsible parent where Ted just wanted to see his little girl smile.
Life had not been easy of Nymphadora.
After only a matter of days after bringing her home from St Mungo's, her appearance had begun changing sporadically and had done so until she'd managed to take control of the gift that had been bestowed upon her.
As wondrous as being a metamorph was, for his daughter, it had been something of a curse until she'd finished her schooling.
To many, she was little more than a curious oddity, someone to amuse them with her talents, and as useful as it was, Ted had seen how much it had hurt Nymphadora.
She'd struggled to make lasting friendships, and anything beyond that had been all but impossible.
During her teenage years, she had isolated herself from her peers for the most part and had even withdrawn from him and Andromeda.
Ted shook his head as he left the park behind him and carefully navigated his way towards the home he'd shared with his wife from more than two decades.
It was strange being back.
A part of him had gotten used to living in the forest, and it saddened him to realise he had accepted it as normality.
Not a day went by that he didn't miss his wife and daughter, but they would only be in danger if he remained in the home.
For weeks he had wandered around Britain but had eventually been discovered in the Forest of Dean by Morgana, who had invited him to Hogwarts.
As grateful as Ted had been, and relieved for a place of safety, there was only one place he wished to be.
Peering over the hedge he'd ducked behind, he saw the curtain of the nosy Mrs Turnpike twitching before he caught a glimpse of the woman.
Ted made a point of ducking suddenly, knowing the eagle-eyed spinster would not miss the movement.
Carefully, he leapt behind the nearby wall, allowing himself to be seen once more before crawling into the adjoining garden; his own that Andi had been maintaining in his absence.
Ted smiled sadly.
He often spent time tending to the plants and keeping the lawn neatly trimmed, and though he wished for nothing more than to be back where he was less than a year ago, now was not the time to lament, not when he could see the silhouette of his wife standing at the now open back door of their home.
"Whoever is there, you'd better clear off," Andromeda warned as she raised her wand. "Ted!" she whispered in disbelief as he quickly stepped towards her.
He said nothing until he'd guided her into the house and closed the door behind them, and for the first time in longer than he cared to count, he held the woman he loved in his arms.
"It's me," he whispered.
Andromeda said nothing for a moment as she clung to him.
Ted suspected that more than once, she'd thought that he had died since they'd last seen one another.
Of course, Nymphadora had assured her mother that he was well, but it wasn't the same as seeing him for herself.
"Ted, what are you doing here?" his wife asked.
Ted released a deep breath.
It was the question he'd been dreading, and he wished more than anything he could tell her he'd only come because the war was over with, that he was back home for good.
"To see you," he answered, "but to also do my part."
"Do your part? What have you done?"
Ted released a deep breath.
"I imagine that in only a matter of minutes, the Snatchers are going to come for me."
"Oh, they can try," Andromeda said darkly.
Ted shuddered at the threat in her tone, but he shook his head.
"No, this isn't your fight. I'm not alone, Andi. When they arrive, we are going to leave."
"Leave? Ted, what the hell is going on?"
"There's no time for that," Ted said urgently. "You may have time to just grab a few things. I'm sorry, Andi, but I had to help. I want this war over with."
Andromeda shook her head.
"I don't understand," she huffed. "Ted, what do you mean you wanted help?"
"I had to lure them here. Andi, please, just get whatever you can't be without. We don't have long. I can explain more later."
Andromeda narrowed her eyes at him but nodded before leaving the kitchen.
She hurried up the stairs to undoubtedly gather photos and other sentimental things and Ted peered out of the window.
There, he met the gaze of Mrs Turnpike, and he cursed under his breath.
She'd evidently already sent a message to the Ministry, and now all he could do was wait for the right moment to depart.
With one hand on his wand and another on the portkey Harry had given him, Ted Tonks swallowed deeply, every one of his senses on edge for any sign of the faintest sound or sight that would indicate the plan was working as intended.
(Break)
"How long until they arrive?" Morgana asked as they watched Ted vanish into the Tonks home.
"Within minutes," Harry murmured, his own gaze remaining firm of the house opposite, and the peering figure that was Sheila Turnpike.
She was a repulsive, bitter woman who informed on no less than five others since the reward for doing so had been introduced by the Ministry of magic.
She herself was a pureblood from the Selwyn family who'd been left a widow from the first war and shamed by both her sons who had chosen to marry a muggle and muggle born respectively.
Not that she would need such an excuse to become an informant.
Harry suspected it only made it more appealing for her knowing that she might just end the marriages of her children, and he'd taken no small amount of pleasure in intruding upon her life.
Even when the night was done, she would never be granted a moment of peace again, but for now, she had her part to play.
"What have you put into place here?" Tonks asked nervously, her eyes flitting across the length and breadth of the street.
"Just a few surprises for our guests," Harry answered with a grin.
He'd spent a few hours here before Ted had arrived, ensuring the arriving Snatchers would not be able to escape his clutches, and that they wouldn't be able to harm anyone upon realising their predicament.
Tonight, they would finally strike another blow against the Dark Lord, and though he might replace those he'd lost, he would be reluctant to send his followers after any others he deemed to be undesirable knowing that Harry Potter might just be waiting for them.
"That must be them," Morgana whispered, grabbing his arm and nodding towards a large group of cloaked figures scampering towards the Tonks family home where they split up to surround it.
One of them closest to the front door placed something on the ground before tapping it with their wand, only for the device to fail as Harry's own came down upon them.
"What is happening?" one of the Snatchers asked.
"Wands out!" the first instructed.
Harry snorted to himself as a group of crows descended upon them as one and relieved the unsuspecting Snatchers of their wands.
They protested before panicking as they attempted to apparate away and realised they could not.
"RUN!"
Harry chuckled amusedly as the group attempted to scatter, only for each of the Snatchers to fall flat on their faces as their ankles were seized by the grass beneath their feet.
Most yelped in surprise before screaming as they were bound tightly.
When they were no longer able to move, Harry approached.
"Taking some inspiration from me?" Morgana asked.
"Why wouldn't I when I have such a brilliant wife?"
The woman grinned but still shook her head at him.
"I was expecting more violence," Tonks murmured.
"The night is still young," Harry muttered, his countenance darkening as he picked up the device one of the Snatchers had dropped.
It was a stone with a series of runes etched into it, and Harry nodded interestedly before placing it in his pocket.
He would make use of it himself later, but for now, his focus was on the man who was looking up at him fearfully.
"Tonks, make sure your parents have left," Harry instructed.
The woman hurried off to do so, and he shook his head at the man.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Fuck you, Potter!" the man spat in response.
Harry shook his head as he levelled his wand towards him.
"That was very rude," he chastised. "I suppose I will have to just take what I want from you. I promise, this is going to be most unpleasant. Legilimens!"
(Break)
Sirius paced back and forth in front of the fireplace in what had once been his father's study.
Orion Black would spend hours in here, mostly to get away from his wife, but also consulting the family finances and other interests he was expected to maintain.
His grandfather may have retained the title of Lord Black until he'd died some years ago, but Grimmauld Place had always been the seat of House Black, and Orion had taken on much of the responsibility.
Not that Sirius had followed in his father's footsteps.
For all he knew, he was indeed the rightful Lord of his family; a title he neither coveted nor wanted.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the sudden arrival of two people familiar to him, one being a woman who resembled him in many ways, and the other, a now portlier man who's hair was beginning to thin on top.
Despite his nervousness, Sirius breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Ted and Andromeda Tonks, even though the woman did not seem so pleased to be here.
"Sirius!" Ted greeted him warmly.
The two of them had always gotten on well enough.
When Andromeda had been all but cast out of the family, only Sirius and Dorea had stayed in contact with her.
"Ted," Sirius responded in kind, shaking the man's hand. "Is…?"
"We don't know. I activated the portkey as soon as we knew they'd arrived."
Sirius nodded approvingly before his gaze fell onto his cousin's.
Andromeda was evidently not pleased to be here, nor did it seem she was happy to see him.
"Sirius," she greeted him, her expression giving nothing away.
"Andromeda," Sirius replied uncertainly.
She continued to fiox him with her gaze, and as he always had when they'd been considerably younger, Sirius squirmed as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't, which was often the case in his formative years.
"Would you care to explain what is going on?" Andromeda asked calmly, a little calmly for his liking.
Sirius rubbed the back of his neck as he grimaced.
Harry's idea had seemed rather good overall and would see them take away a valuable asset of the Dark Lord. Now that he was faced with his cousin, however, for the first time since he'd been locked away in Azkaban, Sirius was not convinced it had been at all.
Andromeda was a little too quiet and calm for his liking, which meant that she was either on the verge of losing her temper with him, or simply remaining silent.
Sirius could not remember what was worse.
More than once she had cursed him for his impudent behaviour, but never as badly as Bellatrix had intended to, had he not been so adept at hiding from her.
"It was my idea, well, I volunteered to help him," Ted interjected. "The Snatchers, they needed to be stopped."
Andromeda frowned at her husband before she deflated.
"You are a damned, noble fool, Ted Tonks," she sighed. "You could've been killed."
"It was killing me being away from you."
"Slimy git," Sirius snorted, eliciting another glare from his cousin before she looked towards her husband much more softly.
"Might I assume that it is Harry Potter you were helping?"
Ted nodded.
"He came to ask if there were any volunteers to lure the Snatchers out, and I offered. I didn't know he'd already spoken to Nymphadora, but I wanted to help anyway. I couldn't stand being away from you any longer, and I might not be much of a fighter, but I wanted to do something."
Andromeda shook her head, but she didn't chide her husband.
Instead, she rested her head against his chest.
"Is my room available?" she asked.
"Of course," Sirius answered.
He'd spent all day cleaning and preparing it, with Kreacher's assistance.
"Good," Andromeda declared, "but I will wait for now. I would have words with Harry Potter when he arrives."
Sirius nodded.
"He's a good lad, Andromeda," Ted assured her. "He's the only one who's been any good in this bloody war."
"I know, but that doesn't mean he will be excused a conversation with me."
Sirius chuckled amusedly, though, given who his godson was married to, he wasn't so sure that Andromeda's presence would have the desired effect on Harry.
(Break)
He'd experienced considerable resistance from Scabior, but it had only taken him a matter of moments to slither around the man's defences, just as Salazar had taught him to, though there was a part of Harry that wished he had not.
The man's memories and emotions related to them reminded him that despite his own actions towards others from time to time, he truly was not like his enemies.
Scabior truly enjoyed what he did, enjoyed inflicting misery, suffering, and torture on those unfortunate enough to find themselves apprehended by him, simply because of the blood flowing through their veins.
Still, he had persevered through the unpleasantness and obtained much useful information along with extracting the measure of Scabior himself.
He said nothing for a moment as he looked upon the drooling man.
The effort he'd made to keep Harry accessing his mind had taken its toll on him, had all but broken him in truth, but his suffering was not done yet.
He deserved much more, and he would receive it in due course.
All of them would.
"Harry?" Morgana said gently.
He offered his wife a sad smile.
"Even if all we achieved is ridding the world of this lot, it was worth it," he murmured. "We can't get to the other prisoners, not without help, but I know just the place we can get it. Before that, we have work to do. Tonks, you will not want any part of this. Go to your parents."
The metamorph had paled, but she offered no protest as Harry drew the knife Morgana had gifted him so many years prior.
The work ahead would be deeply unpleasant, but the punishment needed to fit the crimes of these terrible people.
They may not suffer enough for his liking, but they would indeed suffer, nonetheless before they would greet the waiting Death.
(Break)
He could feel the nerves emanating from the young man as he shepherded him towards the gargoyle. Draco had frozen as Albus had approached him in the Slytherin common room, and though he had dawdled as much as he could without raising suspicion, it was to no avail.
He now found himself at the mercy of the headmaster, and it was indeed a mercy.
Had Albus waited much longer, it would not be him Draco would be dealing with.
Nonetheless, he remained cautious, kept his wand in hand on the off chance that Draco might do something foolish out of desperation.
He must at least suspect why he'd been fetched by Dumbledore himself.
"Ice Mice," Albus murmured as they reached the gargoyle before gesturing for Draco to lead the way once more.
Reluctantly, he did so, and as they entered the office, he took a seat, unable to hide his concern, or the sweat glistening on his brow.
Albus did not sit.
Instead, he stood behind his desk and observed the young man.
Draco did not look well.
His skin was paler than usual, and his cheeks hollow from the lack of food.
Despite this, there remained a hint of defiance in his gaze, which only grew as Albus began placing the evidence against him on the desk; a poisoned bottle of mead, a necklace Harry had confiscated from him, a collection of potion ingredients used to create some unthinkable brews, and even a cursed dagger.
"Would you care to explain, Draco?"
"I have never seen any of that before."
Albus released a deep breath and shook his head.
"Believe it or not, I am trying to help you, but I can only do that if you let me. It is me you are answering to, and for that, you should be grateful."
"Help me," Draco snorted. "You can't help me! It is your fault that I am in this position."
Albus quirked an eyebrow at his student.
"No, Draco, it is because of your father that you are in this position. Had he not chosen to walk the path he did, you would not be here. Now, this is your one chance to get the help you need. Fortunately, you have not harmed anyone yet, but I cannot promise you that harm will not befall you if you continue to act ignorant and deny what we both know. I'm afraid your time is up. Now is the moment you must make a choice."
Draco swallowed deeply, and the defiance began to wane.
"I can't," he whispered. "He will kill them, and me."
"As will I if you do not share what you know."
The voice was quiet but carried every ounce of the weight of the man that spoke.
Albus wasn't sure how Harry had gotten into the office in his absence, but his demeanour spoke volumes of his mood.
Foolishly, Draco drew his wand, only to find himself bereft of it quickly, and bound to the chair he'd been sitting in.
"Harry, I…"
"Things have changed, Albus," Harry said almost apologetically, "but you have my word I will not harm Draco, unless he gives me a reason to"
"Changed?" Albus pressed.
Harry nodded.
"Tom is residing in Malfoy Manor and is running his entire operation from there. Draco is going to tell us all he knows, and if it is of any use, perhaps a deal can be struck. This is the end of the line, Malfoy. I will get the information I want from you one way or the other, but it would be best if you worked with me. What do you say, Malfoy? Do you wish to see your parents alive again?"
For the first time this evening, Draco looked truly concerned, and though Albus did not like the idea of threatening or blackmailing the young man, he could see that Harry was exercising a level of patience his former peer come rival should be grateful for.
(Break)
He could only look upon what had was before him in morbid curiosity, and though he applauded the creativity, the Dark Lord was infuriated by what had been done to the Snatchers.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Blood eagles, my lord," Augustus answered grimly. "It is said the Vikings created it more than a thousand years ago."
The Dark Lord nodded, though his gaze did not leave the grizzly scene.
All of the Snatchers who'd left to answer the call had been victims of the savagery and hung upside-down from trees just outside of the protections of Malfoy Manor.
Potter.
Only Potter would do something like this, and Lord Voldemort felt a sense of unease wash over him as he surveyed the two-dozen-strong group, each swaying in the breeze, sporting pained expressions from their final moments of suffering.
It was a warning if he'd ever seen one, and as the sound of the dripping blood pulled him from his musings, he found that unease difficult to shift.
"Cut them down!" he snapped irritably, "and burn them. We will not speak of this to any of the others."
"And how will we explain their absence?" Rookwood asked.
The Dark lord said nothing as he retreated back within the protections he'd erected, his pace just a little quicker than usual as he peered over his shoulder as a precautionary measure.
Potter wasn't here any longer, but it felt as though he was being, and as a crow took off from one of the trees, clutching an eye of one of the man's victims, that feeling only became more prevalent.