Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 26 - The pain of loss
By Bobmin
Standard Disclaimer:
Alyx closed the door to the theater and paused. She could clearly hear the screams coming from the stage area.
Curious she walked up to the stage to find Bob, racking a person she didn't recognize.
The strange man was tied down and Bob was busy pulling the fingernails off using a pair of white hot tongs.
"What are you doing?" Alyx asked. The man looked at her, hope filling his eyes.
"Nothing, just playing."
"Playing?!?" she exclaimed. "Bob you are torturing that man!"
Bob looked up from pulling out a fingernail. "I am?" he asked.
"I don't understand," Alyx complained. "Is he a guest disclaimer?"
Bob frowned, then hit the man in the kneecap with a hammer. "I don't think so. This is Dale, a reviewer who wanted to know what we've done for him lately. So I'm showing him," he replied with a grin.
Dale moaned piteously and Alyx suddenly looked intrigued. "You sure we can't use him for a disclaimer?"
"Nah, I pulled all his teeth already," Bob replied.
Alyx frowned. "Dammit Bob, you're wasting good material!" she snapped, then she sighed and turned to the audience. "Do I really need to remind you folks that we don't own Harry Potter and the Potter universe."
Out in the audience Harry leaned over to Hermione and looked down her blouse before remembering why he was leaning. "Remind me to never raise my hand when they ask for a volunteer from the audience."
Hermione nodded, her eyes shining with interest at what was happening on stage.
Alyx turned back to Bob and eyed Dale for a moment frowning. "I'll heat up the oil," she said simply.
Bob watched her walk off the stage. "Gawd I love that girl," he muttered.
Dale whimpered and swore he'd never annoy another author again.
Chapter 26
Haven Hospital (Feb 12th)...
While the Paris police were being alerted to the murder of a foreign national in one of their cafes, another person was just beginning to wake up.
Neville opened his eyes and looked around groggily. He seemed to be having difficulty controlling his actions.
A face swam into his field of view. He recognized it as Danni, the healer who often helped out up at the manor.
"Don't try to move around, Neville. You were given a muggle drug and it's still wearing off. You should be fine within a half hour or so."
Danni straightened up and looked at Healer August.
"Is that the last of them?" asked the Senior Healer.
"Yes, Ma'am. Mr. Longbottom, we think, got a stronger dose of whatever it was they gave him. Probably because he was the only one to show signs of a fight."
Healer August approached the foot of the bed and Danni adjusted it with her wand so that Neville was sitting up and could look at her.
"Mr. Longbottom, I know you are confused, but you are safe now. Do you understand? You're back in Haven and safe." Healer August said clearly.
Neville blinked a few times, then nodded. "Wha appen'd?" he said, slurring his words.
"You and your party were attacked. You were captured and given a muggle drug. About eight hours ago you were rescued and brought back to Haven along with the other members of your group. Your wife is well and waiting outside until we're done here.
"Quite a resourceful young woman you married, Mr. Longbottom, but I'll leave her to tell you the story. Needless to say, she's been here all night and is exhausted. I'll let her in for a few minutes, then I'm sending her home with orders to sleep. She'll be back later, I'm sure. You should be released tomorrow, but I expect you'll be having a few official visitors this afternoon."
August sniffed loudly as if the thought of official visitors disturbing her patients annoyed her greatly. She then reached down and made a notation in his chart and handed it to Danni before leaving the room.
Neville settled back in the bed and closed his eyes for a moment. He could already feel things returning to normal, but it was an unsettling sensation.
The door opened and Ginny walked in quietly. Her demeanor puzzled him. She seemed subdued, which was very unlike her.
"Gin?" he asked, pleased that he hadn't slurred her name.
She smiled and walked over to stand near the head of the bed. She looked at him for a moment, then threw herself on top of him, weeping. He wrapped his arms around her and, for the first time, noticed that he had a heavy bandage around his neck that crinkled and poked him uncomfortably.
After a few minutes her emotional storm passed and she sat on the edge of the bed wiping away her tears. "I was so worried about you."
"I'll be fine. Healer August said this should wear off soon," he replied. "Is everyone else alright?"
"Not really, Nev. They weren't able to find any trace of the security detail."
Neville frowned. Six men had vanished, thanks to the French.
"And the others?"
"Geoffrey and Chad were found in the same room as you. The group that tried to capture us wasn't so lucky. I wasn't in the room when they broke into our suite. I managed to get the drop on them, then we apparated to the Embassy were we sounded the alarm before coming home," Ginny said in a rush.
The last twenty hours had been an emotional roller coaster for her and she was finally coming down from it. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered slightly. She was only now coming to realize how much had been at risk.
"So, what's happening now?" he asked, reaching out and caressing her arms, trying to comfort her with his touch.
"It's all confused," she replied, getting off the bed and starting to pace. "Harry is fuming and most of the Brotherhood are fuming right along with him. Draco wanted to try boiling oil on our prisoner. Luna wants to give him to Fuzz. Hermione is walking around muttering about placing a permanent shield charm on the Brotherhood medallions to prevent this sort of thing from happening again. Harry wants to assassinate the French Minister and Amelia has called for something called a Council of Avalon."
Neville sat up with a start and stared at her in astonishment. "WHAT?"
She stopped her pacing and looked at him, irritated now. "Weren't you listening to me? I said Harry is angry," she said, starting to tick off points on his fingers.
Neville interrupted her. "No, no. Tell me about the prisoner and the Council business?"
Ginny stiffened and tried to glare at him for interrupting her, but between her confusion over what was happening at the manor and the relief she felt in having her husband safe, she couldn't manage it. Sighing, she raked a hand through her hair. "Amelia called for something called a Council of Avalon and we have a prisoner. It's how we found out were you were being held so quickly."
"What's his name?"
"Cockroach. No. The roach? I don't know. I was roach-something," she replied, looking at him in confusion. Why couldn't he concentrate on important matters? she thought. It must be the muggle drug.
"LaRoche?"
"Yes, that's it," she replied, smiling brightly.
He leaned back in the bed, grinning. "Get a hold of Harry, Gin. Let him know that LaRoche isn't just a member of the French Ministry, he's the Inspector General of the MLE, and a major player in their ruling party. Someone might want to slip him some veritaserum. He's the official we were supposed to meet. We were told he was the Minister's personal representative."
"So what happened to our group happened with approval of the government?" said a voice from the doorway.
Neville turned to see Remus leaning against the door jam and he nodded to the older man.
"Good, that makes things a lot clearer. I was concerned we were dealing with a sub faction of the ruling party. Amelia will be able to parade LaRoche around at the Council as proof positive."
"I can't believe she's calling for a Council," Neville said softly.
"Would you prefer Harry's way?" Remus asked sharply.
"Harry's way has a certain direct charm to it," Ginny muttered.
Both men looked at her with reproach. "Blood thirsty wench you have there, Neville," Remus commented with a grin.
Neville looked at Ginny warily while she scowled at both of them. "She's not normally like that. I think she's just upset about yesterday."
She rolled her eyes. "Sure, talk about me like I'm not standing right here. And yes, your damn right I'm upset! You run off and get yourself captured, nearly getting yourself killed. Where would I be without you? What would I have done? I don't even have a child yet to carry on your name!" she nearly shouted at him. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at Neville.
Remus grinned. "I think that's my cue to leave. I'll be back later with Amelia, Neville. We want to talk to you about what happened."
Neville barely noted Remus leaving the room. He had his hands full with an angry red headed witch.
Padfoot Manor, Harry's Study...
Harry walked into the study and saw only Hermione. He had been a little late and expected most everyone else to be in place for the morning briefing.
"Where is everyone?" he asked. She was bent over a huge scroll with a complex arithmantic equation scrawled across it.
He leaned over and examined her work, noting it was for a rather weak shield charm.
"Amelia firecalled this morning and asked if we could put off the briefing until later in the day. She wanted to oversee the debriefing of the diplomats," she paused and looked up from her equation. "I would have thought you would be visiting Neville this morning, anyway."
Harry shrugged. "I thought about it, but Ginny's been with him since last night. I figured they deserve some time to themselves. Neville's going to have enough people asking him what happened without me adding to it. Besides, I'll find out from Amelia."
Hermione looked pleased at his reply and was about to say so when a house elf popped in, holding a note. The elf looked around and spotted Harry. She snapped off a salute, then handed him the note before popping out again.
"Remind me to pick four elves to give to your parents, Hermione, but only after I make them watch Monty Python's Flying Circus for a couple weeks," he grumbled.
She laughed softly and watch him.
Harry unfolded the note and looked at it in confusion.
"What's wrong?"
"It's a note from the ghosts of Hogwarts," he replied. "They want to see me."
She put down her quill and looked at him. "I thought they couldn't send messages without Peeves to help them."
"They can't. Or at least they shouldn't have been able to. I'll pay them a visit and find out what's going on."
She pushed back from the desk and stood up. "Not alone you aren't."
"What?"
"Harry, don't be daft," she said in exasperation. "Peeves is dead, so they don't have a way to send you messages, yet somehow manged to do just that? Doesn't that strike you as suspicious?"
"Hermione, the Chamber is under a Fidelius charm, or have you forgotten? If the enchantment had been broken, as the caster, I would have felt it."
She leaned back against the desk and nodded pensively. She nibbled on a quill for a moment. "Alright, Harry, but be careful."
He smiled and started to rummage through one of the drawers.
"What are you looking for?"
He looked up from his desk drawer. "I keep a portkey in here for the Chamber. I don't want to activate the portal I placed in the Chamber until I know it's clear, and my portkey will only let me activate it. HA! Here it is."
He held up a large skeleton key with a pink ribbon tied to it. Hermione smirked at his choice of ribbon colors. He walked over to her desk and looked at her equations again.
"You know, if you invert this rune you'd get improved power focus and boost the containment effect," he told her smugly, then grinned and activated the portkey, vanishing before she could say anything.
Hermione glared at the empty space where he'd stood a second earlier, then she turned back to her parchment. Sitting down once more, she bent over the equation and scanned it carefully. She made a quick notation and nearly growled. Picking up her wand, she waved it over the parchment, inverting one of the runes.
"I hate it when he's right," she muttered.
Hogwarts Castle, the Chamber of Secrets...
"Lights!" Harry hissed in parseltongue.
The torches along the walls flared to life, lighting the gloomy chamber. He looked around for a moment, then walked over to the table where the crystal that contained the power for the ghosts lay. After a moment of examining the crystal, he frowned and raised his hand. His power flared and a thick rope of energy snapped from his palm to the crystal, refilling it.
When he finished he leaned against the table and breathed heavily.
"Thank you," said a voice from behind him. He whirled, ready for combat, then relaxed, seeing the Bloody Baron.
He bowed slightly. "My lord Baron, I received your note, but I admit to being puzzled. I was under the impression that none of the ghosts could affect anything corporeal, unless you possessed a body, and you can't bring a possessed body into the chamber."
The Baron nodded and smiled grimly. "Things have changed, Lord Potter. When you were here last, we assumed, incorrectly, that Peeves had been killed. Peeves is still with us, although I hesitate to say he is alive."
Harry blinked in confusion. "He's become a ghost?" he asked, lost.
The Baron chuckled softly. "No, my lord. Peeves is still Peeves, but is Peeves alive? He is, after all, a mischievous spirit of nature."
Harry nodded. "I don't know the answer to that question. But perhaps when the war is over, we can sit down and discuss it. I'm pleased to know that Peeves is back with us. I shall start bringing in more supplies for him."
The Baron looked pained for a moment. "My lord, Peeves has asked you here today because he has a request." Turning away slightly he bellowed for the poltergeist.
Peeves suddenly materialized over Harry. He tried to hide the water balloon, but he couldn't do it fast enough.
Harry smiled warmly. He was genuinely happy to see the poltergeist unharmed. "I am glad to see you, Peeves..."
He trailed off as another poltergeist appeared, then another and another, until five spirits stared down at him. Harry nervously noted that they all held water balloons in their hands.
"Oh, Merlin," he muttered.
"Pesky Potty Poopsie! Peevsie is back! And he brought his brothers!" Peeves said proudly, then he did a back flip in midair before coming down to Harry's level, where he poked the man in the chest. "Booming things is nice, but we wants digging things!"
"Digging things?" Harry asked, feeling stupid.
"Him stupid," said one of the other Poltergeists.
"Yeah, lets eat him," said another.
"No, no, no. Pottyboy is smart, him just surprised. Now we wants digging things. We want to make holes!" exclaimed Peeves.
"Digging things," Harry repeated again. "Do you mean shovels?"
"Shovels!" crowed all five poltergeists and they degenerated into an aerial acrobatic frenzy, chanting 'Shovels' over and over again.
Harry couldn't help but grin, but he also wondered what they had in mind. He knew better than to ask.
"I'll have some shovels sent over today or tomorrow," he promised.
The poltergeists stopped their frenzy and turned to look at Harry in amazement. They had never met a human that actually aided them in their work.
"See?" Peeves proclaimed to his brothers. "Potty is good people."
"Make him honorary poltergeist!" Miffs exclaimed.
Harry cringed and three poltergeists swooped down, kissing him wetly.
Peeve watched with pride as Harry was inducted as an honorary poltergeist. The Baron grimaced and fled the room. There were limits to even what a ghost would watch.
Padfoot Manor, Harry's Study...
Hermione looked up as a whooshing sound signaled Harry returning to the study via portkey. He had been gone for nearly two hours.
When he appeared, she leaned back on the chair in shock.
Her husband now wore a pair of pink hotpants and his hair had been braided. If that wasn't enough, he was painted, half orange and half green. A miniature storm cloud hovered over his head, raining on just him. A giant fluorescent "P" blinked madly on his bare chest.
"Don't ask." he snapped and walked from the room.
Biting her lip, she tried very hard not to giggle at his back and the fuzzy purple tail that swished from the seat of his pants.
Parliament Building...
Joseph Meade walked into the office carrying a large stack of dispatches and letters for Lucius. Unlike Akers, who Malfoy had killed, Meade was useful enough that Lucius kept him around. He was one of Malfoy's chief aides, and a commander of Malfoy's legion.
Lucius accepted the stack of parchments, leafing through them.
"There's a dispatch from that Irish bitch, Murphy, and another from our contact in Haven. Also, I received a notice from one of our field commanders. He's complaining that someone is using magic to sabotage our operation in Plymouth. I've tasked a quarter legion to scour the area."
Lucius frowned. The docks in Plymouth were being used to smuggle material and supplies in from the continent. If anything happened to them, they would be in trouble, as it would cut off one of the principle sources of supplies.
"Only a quarter? Plymouth is a big city," Lucius replied.
"Yes, sir, but I don't want to cut our strength too badly. We're still having problems up north. I figure the best thing is to keep our main force nearby, in case we need to jump in either direction."
Lucius nodded in agreement. Playing the cautious hand might be slow, but it was the safest way to go.
He opened the letter from the Haven contact and read it, his eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.
"Send an owl to Hogwarts. Ask the Master if it would be possible for me to see him tomorrow. I have important information for him," he snapped.
Meade nodded and walked to the door. "Yes, sir."
Padfoot Manor...
Amelia paused in the doorway and wondered why Hermione was giggling at Harry. He sat at his desk, scowling at her now and then.
She walked into the room and looked around, noting that even Draco and Remus were smirking at him.
"What did I miss?" she asked.
"Harry went to Hogwarts today to see what was going with the ghosts. While there, he discovered that Peeves, the Poltergeist, wasn't destroyed by Voldemort after all. Apparently, Peeves had gone off to get some of his fellow Poltergeists and decided to do it in a dramatic fashion. Harry here got inducted as an honorary poltergeist today. You should have seen him. They painted him and you should have seen the tail!" Hermione explained, before she began to laugh again.
Harry frowned at her, then turned to look at Amelia. "I'm sure Amelia will be interested in learning what I discovered," he replied frostily. He wasn't really angry, but Hermione knew exactly how to tease him.
"Yes, actually, I would," Amelia said. Harry glanced around seeing Remus, Draco and Caleb nodding at him.
"Very well, I'll start off then," Harry said, starting the briefing.
"As you are aware, we thought that Peeves, the Poltergeist of Hogwarts, had been destroyed by a killing curse cast using Voldemort's new scepter. This turned out to be false. Peeves was out rounding up help for himself. There are now a total of five poltergeists in the castle, Peeves, Miffs, Irks, Hacks and Vex."
He paused when Remus covered his face in both hands and moaned.
"Remus?"
The older man looked up at Harry, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "What are you planning on telling Minerva when she discovers there are now five poltergeists in the castle rather than one?"
"I don't think it will be much of a problem, Remus. Peeves assured me they won't be staying on after we drive Voldemort out. More to the point, however, the Baron had some interesting information for me. It turns out that Snape has been taken off brewing potions for the ritual. Voldemort is reaching the limit of the ritual and soon won't be able to continue using it."
"So what is Snape doing?" asked Hermione.
"According to the Baron, he was investigating ways of extending the number of times Voldemort can undergo the ritual, but was pulled off the assignment to help Voldemort and someone named Pei Chung in breaking through our ward on the island. Apparently, they think they might be able to punch a hole in the ward, a temporary breech."
Draco started leafing through his document folder.
"Is that possible?" Amelia asked in alarm.
"Possible, yes. Easy to do? No. The wards are partially powered by Ley lines and by the parchment that contains the map. The beauty of the ward we erected is that as long as the map remains protected and untouched, no power on Earth can break that ward."
"But he's not trying to break the ward, he's trying to punch a hole through it," Amelia pointed out.
Harry nodded at her and grinned.
"What my husband is not pointing out is that, while the theory of punching a hole in wards is a well known and clearly defined process, no one, but we few, knows about the map. No matter how much power they pump into the ward, unless they also cast on the map itself, they won't be able to punch a hole in the ward. As it stands, the more power they pump into punching a hole, the stronger that local area will become," Hermione explained, watching Harry's smug expression melt away.
He glanced at her sourly, though he had to admit that the idea of converting any attempts to break the ward into something that would actually increase its power had been her idea.
Amelia nodded, now that she understood. "So, where is the map? And when the time comes, how hard will it be to remove the ward? It took a full coven to create it."
Hermione glanced at Harry, who nodded. "The map used to be in a locked drawer of Harry's desk. I convinced him to move it. It's now kept by Gringotts in a high security vault guarded by dragons. As for removing the ward, that's easier than creating it. All we need do is burn the map."
Amelia stared at Hermione in astonishment. "That simple?"
Hermione nodded.
"AHA!" Draco exclaimed. "I thought that name sounded familiar."
He waved a parchment he had pulled from his folder. "Harry, do you remember when you told me about that letter from your Sheik friend and how he noted that the Crimson Jihad and another group had vanished?"
Harry nodded, puzzled by the swift change of topic.
"Pei Chung, age one hundred and six," he said, reading from the parchment. "He is currently the leader of the Iron Wand Tong, an Asian criminal group composed mostly of wizards and witches. According to what I've found out, they had close to five hundred members.
"Pei Chung is a master of potions and charms," he continued, then he paled slightly and looked up nervously. "He also has some peculiar tastes, which I don't think I need mention here."
"Where are you going with this, Draco?" asked Amelia.
"Think!" Draco snapped. "We killed at least a thousand Death Eaters on our raid on the camps. Then we hear about two criminal groups that vanish without a trace? The Iron Wand Tong and the Crimson Jihad. Just a guess, but that's nearly a thousand very fanatic people. Now we learn that the leader of one of those groups is at Hogwarts? Voldemort has been reinforced."
Caleb frowned and nodded. "It makes sense," he said softly.
"So we killed a thousand and he replaced them," Amelia said softly.
"Damn, it's going to be a bloody fight then," Harry muttered.
Hermione made a strangling noise and everyone turned to look at her. She stood unsteadily.
"BEFORE THE RAM IS GORED BY THE BULL THE TIME OF PROPHESY WILL END... AS THE TRUMPETS OF WAR SOUND THEIR CALL THE BLOOD OF THE BROTHERHOOD WILL FLOW... BLOOD WILL MEET BLOOD AND BLOOD WILL FIGHT BLOOD... THE ANCIENT VOICES WILL BE SILENCED FOREVER AS A SINGLE CRY HERALDS THE COMING OF A NEW AGE... BEFORE THE RAM IS GORED BY THE BULL THE TIME OF PROPHESY WILL END...," she intoned.
Harry stood quickly and walked over to her. Both Remus and Draco were scribbling furiously. He glanced over to them. Draco passed his sheet to Remus who compared the two copies. All the while Hermione continued to repeat the same thing over and over again. Remus gave Harry a thumbs up.
He reached over and gently touched Hermione on the shoulder. She blinked and swayed dangerously. He caught her in his arms as she slumped down and he gently placed her back on her chair.
Remus summoned a house elf, who brought Hermione a cup of her favorite tea. He handed it to Harry who in turn held it to her lips. She sipped gratefully and smiled weakly.
"It happened again, didn't it?"
Harry nodded and she shook herself, trying to snap out of the lethargic state she was in.
"Do you want to continue, or can I help you to our room where you can lie down for a while?" he asked quietly.
She held out a hand imperiously for one of the parchments. "I'll stay, just give me a moment."
Remus handed her Draco's copy.
Amelia and Caleb watched with intense interest. Hermione's prophecies had carried them quite a ways in this war and allowed them to save thousands. But this was the first time anyone outside of Harry's inner circle had seen her give a prophecy.
Harry watched her intently for a moment, then he engaged his mage sight, checking her aura carefully.
"Stop that, I'll be fine," she sent him.
"I know you will, but it's not going to stop me from worrying about you," he replied.
"Well, you don't have to treat me like I'm an invalid or something," she snapped.
Harry's expression changed and he looked away, hurt. He retreated from her mind pulling back and trying to occlude his emotions from her. He stood and walked back to his seat.
She looked at him sharply and realized she had been unfair to him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," she sent.
He looked over at her and smiled weakly. "It's alright..."
"No, it isn't alright. This scares me, but I shouldn't take it out on you."
"We'll talk about this tonight or after the meeting, if you want. I know you didn't mean it."
"Alright, but we're going to talk about this," she replied, her mental tone was uncertain.
Harry sat at his desk and sighed tiredly. Remus quickly made duplicates of his copy of the prophecy and passed them out.
Hermione scanned the parchment and shook her head in aggravation. "What is it about magic that makes things like prophecies speak in riddles? Blood will fight Blood?"
"I agree it's pretty vague," Remus said quietly. "Most prophecies seem to become clear only after the fact. In any event, I'll speak with Eocho about this and we'll see what we can figure out."
Amelia nodded and turned to Hermione. "Are you alright, Lady Potter?" she asked gently. Witnessing the birth of a prophecy was, in her opinion, a rare experience and an honor.
"I'll be fine, Minister. I don't know why, but these things always make me feel surprised and shocked when it's over," Hermione replied.
Amelia nodded and looked towards Harry. "Do you want to put this off until tomorrow?"
He glanced at Hermione, who shook her head, before replying, "No, I think we can go on."
Amelia sighed. "Very well. Having spoken with our people, we've learned that the diplomatic mission was ambushed when they reached the home of Jean LaRoche, who is apparently a functionary in the French ministry."
"Not just a functionary, Amelia," Remus said, interrupting her. "He's a personal friend of the Minister and his unofficial representative."
Amelia raised an eyebrow and scribbled a note on the her parchment.
"Yes, well, that clears up a few things. From what we were able to find out, our two men were dropped almost immediately by full body binds. Your Mr. Longbottom put up quite a fight. If it weren't for the damage reported by the healers, we probably would have never known about the fight. When pressed, he admitted to killing two of his attackers, but he was badly outnumbered and trying to defend his two downed companions. It was an unenviable position to be in."
"Apparently, they ripped his medallion off his neck, Harry," Remus added. "I spoke with him earlier. He doesn't remember it happening."
"That explains how we ended up with LaRoche. Now the question is what do we do with him?" Harry asked.
"Nothing, for the moment," Amelia replied.
Harry turned and stared at her incredulously. "Amelia, six of our security men are missing and presumed dead. A diplomatic mission was attacked and we have one of the people behind it in our hands and we do nothing?"
"You know what I mean," she said angrily. "We don't hurt him. I want him as part of my proof for the Council."
Harry sighed and stared at his desk top for a moment. "Alright, I think it's time you explain this Council, Amelia. Even Hermione didn't have much information about it."
The Minister laughed lightly. "I'm not surprised. The Council isn't a secret, it's just not common knowledge because it can undermine a Ministry's authority with the populace."
She leaned back in her chair and picked up her cup of tea. She took a sip and looked pensive for a moment. "The Council was formed in 1455, just following the end of the One Hundred Years war. Its one single purpose is to keep wizarding countries from going to war against each other.
"In the One Hundred Years war, Britain and France fought over land that Britain owned on the continent. Unfortunately at the time, the muggle governments knew about our world and actively courted our aid in their wars. Wizarding help in that war is one of the reasons it lasted as long as it did.
"The Council, named for the famed island of Avalon of Merlin's time, is designed to keep wizarding governments from going to war. It is, in a word, a court where the Ministers of the other countries are the judges and executioners.
"The Council is rarely called, and rarely will they invoke the worst case, disenfranchising a government. A verdict to disenfranchise is a death sentence for every department head in that particular Ministry.
"There are four actions a Council can take. It can elect to do nothing, which would mean we failed to prove our case. At that point, the other government would be within their rights to invoke a Council against us," she told them seriously, noting their surprised expressions.
"They can censure the offending government," she continued, "which is little more than a slap on the wrist. That would be a public relations victory for us, but have little effect on the French other than to annoy them further.
"They can decide to place the entire country under an interdict for a limited time span, typically five to ten years. During that time, no country will trade with France. No one will buy their goods, and most importantly, no one will be allowed to travel to or from France via any wizarding method. That effectively stops the pure bloods from leaving, while the muggle born and half bloods can leave via muggle means. It's rare that the muggle born or half bloods agree with the policies of the pure bloods running the government.
"Finally, they can disenfranchise the government. This invokes an oath that every Ministry official takes when they assume a manager role and will result in their death if they fail to resign their posts within seventy two hours after the Council's declaration of disenfranchise."
Amelia paused when she noticed Harry's grin.
Operation Headshot would have killed maybe a half dozen, but if they succeeded, there was a potential for them to bring down the entire government.
"Before that grin gets too wide, Harry, not everything is going to go our way. For one thing, as the defending Government, the French get to decide where the Council will be held. It will most likely be held somewhere in France.
"The leader for this Council will be Okobe Umtumba, an African shaman and a pacifist. He holds the tie breaking vote and a lot of power. Some call him the next Dumbledore. And don't frown at me, Harry. Unlike our Dumbledore, Umtumba is a light-sided wizard and his phoenix hasn't abandoned him.
"I met Chief Justice Umtumba once, many years ago, and I couldn't help but come away feeling just a little humbled by the man. He's not arrogant or supercilious, it's just that there is an aura about the man, something that makes you want to trust him," Amelia said quietly.
"So when will the Council meet and what will you need from us?" Harry asked.
"The Council will meet in eight days, but we will not be allowed to attend for the first two days. The same rule applies to France. We cannot attend the Council until the twenty second of February. The Council needs the two days to work out procedural issues and ensure the Council chamber will be as secure as possible. Fortunately, the five other nations that issued the call for the Council will be there representing our interests. What I need from you is your Brotherhood. All of them."
Harry blinked and stared at her. "The Brigade or just our core group?"
Amelia chuckled. "The core, Harry. We're going to court, not invading France."
"There's a nice idea," Draco murmured.
Harry shot him a grin, then turned back to Amelia. "We'll be there. Are we allowed to bring any security?"
Amelia frowned and shook her head. "No, the Council is supposed to be entirely neutral. No fighting is allowed at the Council. That's a key point. Unless you are defending yourself, you are forbidden to attack any member of the Council, witnesses or anyone associated with the proceedings."
Harry's expression hardened. "I'm not sure I like this, Amelia. You're asking us to go to France, which we know is hostile and out for my head, I might add, and we're not allowed to bring any security? I will remind you that your very pregnant niece is a member of our Brotherhood and will be accompanying us."
"Our safety until the close of the proceedings is guaranteed, Harry," Amelia replied stiffly.
"Until the close of the proceedings? What happens then? Are we going to end up fleeing from French Security agents?" exclaimed Draco scathingly.
"Draco," Harry chided, then he turned back to Amelia. "Thank you for the information, Amelia. The Brotherhood had stood beside your government since it's inception and we will continue to support you. We'll be there." He looked pointedly at Draco and Remus, who looked back at him, worried.
"Now then, unless there is other business, I think we're done here," Harry said with a smile. Amelia was looking at him carefully and he wanted to reassure her.
Caleb gathered up his papers and walked out of the office. Amelia looked as though she wanted to say more, but seemed to change her mind.
Harry waited until she had left, then he cast a privacy charm.
"Harry, you can't seriously be thinking that this is going to turn out the way Amelia thinks it will?" Draco demanded.
"Of course I don't," he snapped as he stood up and walked to the window. "Amelia outlined four possibilities, but I can see the French going along with only two of them. The other two Council decisions are liable to force them into a corner. It will make them desperate and desperate men will act before they think," he said quietly, then he turned to face them.
"Amelia wants us there, so we'll be there, but I want everyone with at least one spare portkey using the rune sets I made. Hermione, look into creating a rune set to take down a anti-portkey ward and portkey a person. I want everyone to be able to break out if necessary."
Remus chuckled. The idea was ingenious. Harry's rune sets hadn't found much practical use, but this was a perfect use for them. A ward breaking portkey!
Hermione grinned as she quickly jotted down several ideas.
"I'll check our second skins and make sure they're in good shape," Remus offered, then frowned. "Ah, Harry, what about Amelia and her people?"
"Let's make a few extra portkeys, but I'll task Susan to grab Amelia if things turn sour." He paused for a moment. "I suppose I should tell Ginny to grab Arthur, as well. I don't want to leave anyone behind, but it may not be possible to get everyone out. Amelia and Arthur need to be protected."
When everyone murmured their agreement, Harry sighed. "Let's call for a Brotherhood meeting after dinner tonight to discuss this," he told them.
Padfoot Library (Feb 13th)...
Ginny entered the library and searched for the figure she knew to be there.
"You've heard?" she asked him quietly.
"I have," Eocho said as he moved towards her.
"I spoke to Remus. He'll be joining us in a few minutes."
The ancient shade nodded, but remained silent.
"I went to see her while I was visiting Neville today. I'd hardly stepped into the room before she woke up and started screaming at me."
When he still didn't comment, she began to wander the room. She touched objects here and there, ran her fingers over the bindings of the books on the shelf.
"It took three nurses to knock her out again. I could feel it in her, feel it reaching out for me. It recognized me."
Eocho merely watched her, offering nothing. When she finally faced him again, he saw the pain in her eyes and sighed. "What are you asking me, daughter?"
"You know what I'm asking. Can it be removed?"
"You've been in her presence. You know the answer."
"But if the proper receptacle were found..."
"The only receptacle capable of handling the evil within her was destroyed by the Maglios."
The door to the room opened and Remus entered. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it and waited.
"Another dagger then," she began.
"You would willingly being another here?" he asked, studying her. "You have faced the evil within it. How long before it breaks free and finds another victim?"
"We could form another circle," she said, almost desperate now.
"Daughter," he said, moving closer to her, "you know the risks involved, the risks you'll be asking them all to make, assuming another dagger could be found."
She moved away, turning her back to him. "What's the point then, Honored Teacher?" she asked, scathingly. "We took the risk to invoke the Brotherhood Rite and were blessed with new abilities and power. And for all we've worked for, all we've trained for, we still can't save the life of a fourteen year old girl!"
"I can only tell you the same thing you've told the Maglios. You cannot save them all," Eocho said quietly.
"And now I know how much he must have hated to hear those words!" she exclaimed bitterly.
Eocho did not reply.
"You know what they'll do," she said, turning to face him.
"I do." He raised his head and looked at her. "Daughter, I know the pain this causes you. I can only ask you to believe me when I tell you that she will find no peace in this life."
"And the next?" she asked, her eyes boring into his.
"The Gods are forgiving," he told her. "The girl was an innocent. She did not willingly embrace the evil of the dagger."
She closed her eyes and bowed her head. When Remus' arms wrapped around her from behind, she leaned back against him and let her tears fall as grief for the young girl wash over her.
"If you want, Ginny, I'll speak to Healer August," Remus offered quietly.
She could only nod at him.
Weasley Cottage, Haven, later that evening...
"Mister Minister?" a small voice called quietly. "Sir?"
When a small, cool hand touched his shoulder, Arthur opened his eyelids and looked into a large pair of glowing green eyes.
Jerking away, he cursed as his legs tangled in the blankets. "What the hell?" he exclaimed.
"Mister Minister must be waking now," the voice said.
Grabbing his wand from the bedside table, he lit the tip and scowled. "Dilly?"
"Yes, sir. It be Dilly," the small elf said, her voice quiet.
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking around the room in confusion.
"Melinda do be needing you," the creature told him.
"What happened?" he asked as he tried to kick free of the bedding.
"She do be grieving, Mister Minister," Dilly told him as she reached out to untangled the blankets. "Melinda did help the Pappy Healer release the young one tonight."
"Pappy Healer?"
"She who do be in charge of the hospital," Dilly clarified, tugging the blanket out from underneath him.
"Sylvia August," Arthur corrected.
"Yes, the Pappy Healer."
Finally free of the blankets, he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at Dilly. "Healer August and Melinda helped the young one... Wait, are you telling me they gave Orla Quirke Mercy?"
"That do be what they called it," the elf confirmed, her large eyes swimming with sadness.
"Oh, Merlin. That means Ginny..." He sighed heavily.
"The short, flame haired girl was unable to help her and the young one's parents wanted their child's pain to end," Dilly explained. "The Pappy Healer knows not to be alone. She is with Professor Kittycat tonight."
"And Melinda?" he asked quietly, though he was afraid he already knew the answer.
"She do be in her room. She will not speak of it to Dilly, but Dilly can feel her pain. She did refuse the Pappy Healer's offer of comfort."
Arthur cursed quietly and stood up. Searching for the robe he'd discarded earlier that night, he threw it over his pajama bottoms.
"Dilly is sorry to be waking you," the elf said softly, "but Dilly does not know how to be helping her friend."
"You did the right thing," Arthur assured her. Sliding his wand into his robe pocket, he reached out for Dilly's hand. "Alright, take me to her."
Melinda McKinney's Cottage, moments later...
Arriving in the darkened cottage, Dilly released Arthur's hand. "She do be in her bedroom," she said quietly. "Please, help her."
"I'll try, Dilly. Thank you for coming to get me."
Nodding, Dilly went into the kitchen, waiting, hoping to be called.
Moving towards the bedroom, Arthur just missed stubbing his toe on an end table. Reaching the door, he pushed it open and sighed.
The room was lit by a few candles, their light dancing on the walls. Melinda sat on a comfortable looking chair in front of her bedroom window. When the door opened, she snapped, "I told you I didn't want to be disturbed, Dilly."
"It's not Dilly," Arthur said.
She stood up and moved to him quickly. "Arthur? What's wrong? Has something happened?"
"Probably not in the way that you mean," he said, wrapping his arms around her. He closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how to approach the topic. Seeing no other way, he shrugged mentally. "Dilly woke me. She told me what happened tonight."
He felt her stiffen in his arms, but refused to let go when she tried to pull way.
"She had no right," Melinda said angrily.
"She had every right. You made her a member of your family and she loves you. Seeing you in pain hurts her."
"I'm fine. I don't need someone to hold my hand."
He leaned away from her enough to look into her eyes. "Bollocks. Sylvia was smart enough to know she'd need support tonight. So do you, though you don't want to admit it."
She twisted in his arms until he let her go. She stepped back from him and sneered. "I murdered a child tonight and you tell me I need support?" She laughed coldly.
"You didn't kill her, Melinda. Voldemort did."
"Have you noticed," she began, pacing, "that every death is laid at that monster's feet? Convenient for us, don't you think?" She shook her head. "Voldemort didn't kill her, Arthur, I did. Sylvia felt I needed to learn how to administer Mercy, so she guided me through the procedure. It was my wand, my magic, my will, that ended that young girl's life!"
"Stop it," he told her harshly.
"You know nothing of this. Go home, Arthur. I don't want you here," she said flatly, turning her back on him.
"I know nothing of this? My daughter destroyed that damn dagger and I held her as she wept over what was once a girl named Orla Quirke!" he exclaimed fiercely. "She told me exactly what that dagger had done to the girl. You didn't kill her any more than Ginny did!"
"You weren't there," Melinda began.
"That doesn't mean I don't understand what happened."
"Have you ever seen Mercy administered?" she asked, spinning around to face him.
"No."
She drew her wand, held it up and approached him slowly. "Shall I tell you of it? It's rather simple, actually."
He slapped her wand out of her hand and grabbed her shoulders roughly. "Enough! This is a load of shit and you know it. If you had really murdered Orla, you wouldn't be grieving for her. The person she was died the moment she picked up that damn dagger! And don't tell me I don't understand. I nearly lost Ginny to something similar in her first year at Hogwarts. Had it not been for Harry, she would have died."
"But she didn't. Someone was there to save her. Where was Orla's 'someone'?" she asked, her icy mask melting into one of grief.
He wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, darling, don't do that to yourself. You couldn't have known she needed help. You did the only thing you could have. You released her from the pain and darkness. You couldn't save her life, but you saved her soul."
Melinda's knees buckled as she began to sob against his shoulder. Swinging her up into his arms, he moved to the chair in front of the window and sat down, holding her in his arms.
"That's it. Mourn her loss, get it out," he murmured softly.
In the kitchen, Dilly held on to the counter and looked out the window as her friend's grief swept over her. Staggering to a chair, the small creature sat down, bowed her head and wept for the young one and those who suffered through the pain of her passing.
Haven School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Feb 16th)...
"I need to talk to you," Deneb said quietly as he and Millicent left the Great Hall at lunch.
"We have rounds tonight," Millicent began.
"It can't wait that long. Meet me outside in the courtyard in ten minutes. You know the spot," he told her with a meaningful look.
"We both have class," she protested.
"Trust me, the Headmistress will forgive us for this. Remember, ten minutes!" He slipped into the crowd a moment later.
Scowling, she changed directions and headed for the infirmary, on the off chance someone was watching her.
Once the traffic in the halls had thinned out, she left the school building quickly and made her way to the courtyard.
Finding Deneb, she joined him in a small alcove tucked away behind an enormous climbing rose plant, dormant now as it waited for spring.
"What is so important? I have Ancient Runes now and Professor Ollivander is not going to be pleased that I skipped," she grumbled.
"I overheard an interesting conversation today at lunch."
"Overheard? My arse. One of these days you have to teach me the spell you're using for that," she told him.
"Hey, I need something to keep up with you," he told her, his eyes dancing. "But we're getting away from the point. Listen, Mindy Joyner sent an owl to her parents from the Ministry building. She told Jack Palmer that her internship is really paying off and that she was able to send off the Ministry's attack plans, including troop numbers, to her parents. We both know what that means!"
"Yeah, it means Voldemort now has that information," she muttered, her eyes narrowed.
"She's not a very cautious person. She gave the information to Palmer, right out in the open. I wrote it down," he told her, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper. "This is the information she sent her parents. We need to get this to the Headmistress."
"I agree, but you don't need me to help you deliver it. Don't get me wrong, Deneb, the information you have is important, but why am I skipping class for this?"
"Because I need your help. Jack Palmer told Mindy that he's sending his parents an owl to report that the dagger has been found and destroyed. He's requesting that another be sent to Haven." When her eyes widened, he held up a hand. "It gets worse. He's sending them the name of a third year boy. He and Mindy discussed it and decided that the third year would be susceptible to the dagger's influence because he's rather weak willed," he told her, grimacing.
"Who is it?"
"I don't know. They never mentioned a name, but both seemed to know the boy."
"When is he sending his owl?" she asked.
"Right after class. We have to stop him."
"No, actually, we don't. Let him send it."
"Are you mad?" he exclaimed.
"No, I just learned well from my time as a Slytherin," she said with a small, devious smile.
"You frighten me sometimes. You know that, right?"
She laughed. "Just keeping you on your toes." She touched his cheek for a moment, then jerked her hand back and frowned. "We need to move fast. Keep an eye on Jack when classes let out. Make sure he goes to the owlery, but don't follow too closely. I don't want him to become suspicious."
"Where will you be?"
"Owl hunting."
Loading Dock #13, Plymouth England...
There were a dozen people working on a crane that had been heavily damaged during the unrest surrounding the fall of the government. Someone had used it as a sniper nest until several reductor curses had put an end to the threat.
The nice neat control cab had been replaced with a wooden shack. It was bare of creature comforts, but it did the job of protecting the operator while he loaded and unloaded containers.
The foreman thought it was a waste of time. There hadn't been a container carrier arriving in Plymouth since April of last year.
A man operating a welding torch gave the foreman a thumbs up. He nodded and signaled to another man, who gave one long blast on an airhorn, alerting everyone that they were cutting away the last of the damaged frame and to stay away.
The foreman leaned over the railing and looked down at the ground, eighty feet below. Seeing it was clear, he signaled the welder.
The man with the torch turned back to the metal frame and his torch flared white hot. Sparks flashed and molten pieces of metal dropped to the ground like meteors. The foreman watched as the eight foot long piece of steel slowly pulled away from the frame. It fell to the ground below in a huge crash.
The foreman leaned over the railing to watch the metal fall and felt a sense of vertigo, almost as though he, too, were falling.
It took him a second to realize that he actually was falling. A moment later, he, along with most of his crew, were screaming as they plunged to their death.
The overhead crane had been hit with with several explosive Hammer of God spells on both ends of the crane, cutting away the center section. One man from the crew managed to jump to the hanging edge, where he clung for nearly a minute before joining his fellows in the pile of broken metal below.
There was a moment of total, shocked silence among the dock workers that had been present, and then someone screamed. The normally strong willed men had been forced back to their jobs by the strange black robed men and they weren't about to stick around. They scattered in every possible direction.
The three visible wizards jumped for cover as arcs of spell light lanced out at them. One man pointed his wand straight up and yelled an incantation.
Alastor Moody grinned and motioned for the four men he was with to move forward. Carefully covering each other, they moved one man at a time towards the wizards. Moody looked towards the wreck of a crane with satisfaction. It was a shame the muggles had to die, but they couldn't allow the port to become operational again.
Moody stumped forward, firing as he went. His men were already in position. They had pinned down the three Death Eaters. Now all they had to do was kill them and get away.
The Death Eaters were holed up behind a container. To one side was a warehouse, and the empty dock on the other. They had no where to run.
Moody crouched behind several metal barrels, watching as the others moved forward again. Movement to one side caught his eye, but he ignored it, thinking it was part of the muggle work crew trying to escape.
A large bay door on the warehouse slid open, revealing nearly fifty Death Eaters. They poured from the building, firing as they went. A spell exploded against the barrel Moody was hiding behind and he was knocked back nearly ten feet. He struggled to his feet and looked around quickly, but couldn't see his men.
"Escape one!" he shouted, then he yanked hard on the emergency portkey pinned to his vest. At the same moment, a spell hit him in the legs. He vanished from the scene, leaving behind one leg of flesh and bone, and another partially made of wood.
Haven School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Office of the Headmistress...
When the last class let out for the day, two breathless seventh years knocked on the office door of the Headmistress.
When the command to enter the room was heard, both students rushed in and shut the door quickly behind them.
Millicent warded the door as Deneb started the hurried explanations.
"Wait," Minerva said, holding up one hand a minute later. "You both skipped class?"
When Deneb started to explain again, Millicent rolled her eyes. "Let's try to focus on the important issue here," she interrupted.
When the Headmistress drew herself up, her face pinched in anger, the younger witch realized her choice of words had been poor. "I didn't mean that as it sounded, Headmistress," she rushed out. "I only meant that if you would let us explain what has happened, I'm sure you'll forgive us for missing one class. And if not, we'll both serve detention."
"Speak for yourself," Deneb muttered darkly.
"This was your idea, Thorntree. Live with it," she growled back.
"Will you two just get on with it?" Minerva snapped sharply.
Turning back to the Headmistress, Millicent told her what had taken place, while Deneb pulled out the paper he'd written the numbers on and gave it to McGonagall.
"You're sure about this?" Minerva asked Deneb as she glanced down at the figures he'd provided.
"Yes. If it would help, I can provide a pensieve memory of the conversation," he told her.
"It may come to that," the Headmistress told him. "Now, what about Jack Palmer? Were either of you able to get a look at the letter he wrote?"
"I did better than that," Millicent said as she reached into her robe. Pulling out a blood covered roll of parchment, she placed it on the McGonagall's desk. "I haven't opened it yet, but I'm sure it's encrypted."
Understanding lit Minerva's eyes as she realized what had happened. "Was there no other way?" she asked.
"The owl was well trained. He would not drop his delivery. If it helps, he died quickly," the young woman said quietly.
Deneb frowned in puzzlement. "I don't understand."
Minerva looked at Millicent carefully, then turned to Deneb. "Miss Bulstrode has many unusual talents, Mr Thorntree. Among them is the fact that she is an animagus. Unregistered, for now, so I ask that you keep this information to yourself. Her form, a gyrfalcon, hunts other birds, including owls. When Mr Palmer's owl refused to drop his delivery, she was forced to kill it."
"So, what's the problem?" he asked.
"I had told Miss Bulstrode previously not to sample the local domesticated species. In this case, however, it was unavoidable."
"Sample the local..." He looked at Millicent in dawning horror. "You didn't!"
She looked at him with wide, innocent looking eyes. "I was only doing what a gyrfalcon does naturally."
He shuddered. "Oh, Merlin. I kissed you just before we got here!"
Millicent rolled her eyes. "It's not like I didn't brush my teeth," she muttered.
"I think that's about enough," Minerva told them, trying to suppress her own shudder. "You're beginning to drift into an area I'd rather not know about, and we still have work to do."
Reaching for the parchment and her wand, she studied the encryption charm on the letter and nodded.. With a few muttered words, she broke the encryption and unrolled the scroll.
"It's all here," she told her students when she finally looked up from the letter. "The dagger, the name of the boy to send it to, everything." She shook her head. "Sit down, both of you. We're going to be here for awhile."
Sitting down on one of the chairs in front of McGonagall's desk, Millicent leaned forward. "Who's the boy they've offered up?" she asked.
"Dennis Creevey," she said as she scribbled out a quick note. "Chloe!" she barked.
With a small pop, a nervous house elf appeared. "Yous called, Professor?"
"I did, and I apologize for my tone. I need you to take this message to Draco Black immediately."
"Yes, Professor. Chloe wills be quick!" Taking the note, she disappeared.
"What now, ma'am?" Deneb asked.
"Now we wait. I'm not sure what Draco might want to do, but I will not allow another student to be corrupted by one of those damn daggers. If Draco allows it to come into Haven, which I cannot imagine, I will lock this school down and ward it!"
Padfoot Manor...
When the unknown house elf appeared at dinner, the occupants of the dining room all froze for a moment, causing the already nervous elf to squeak in alarm.
"It's alright," Harry said gently. "You have a message for one of us?"
The elf nodded, then ran to Draco. "I's is told to gives this to yous, sir."
"You're from the school, aren't you?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, miss."
The Brotherhood exchanged nervous glances as Draco read the missive.
"It's from the Headmistress," he told them, look up. "It seems Millicent and Deneb have uncovered a rather disturbing plot to bring another Blade of Mordoc into Haven. She wants to see me, now." Taking the napkin from his lap, he placed it on the table and stood.
Harry pushed away from the table. "I'll join you," he said, standing up. Seeing the worry in Hermione's eyes, he kissed the top of her head as he passed her. "Don't worry."
"Call if you have need," Luna murmured as Draco kissed her cheek. "And don't walk to the school," she added, a bit louder so Harry could hear her as well. "The last time I walked that path, I found the trail of a Spotted Lurker. They're as big as a hippogriff and they like to climb into the trees and pounce on the unsuspecting victims below."
Hermione shook her head and opened her mouth to refute Luna's warning. Spotting Fuzz curled around the blond's neck, watching her with bright, unblinking eyes, she went limp in her chair and looked down at her plate.
Leaving the dining room, Draco stopped and sighed. "Alright, let's get this over with," he muttered, holding out an arm.
With a sheepish grin, Harry grabbed the blond's arm and apparated them both through the manor's wards.
Haven School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Office of the Headmistress...
Minutes later, they were seated in Minerva's office. As Harry read over Deneb's hastily written notes, Draco read Palmer's letter.
They were both scowling when they switched documents a few moments later.
"Well, it was a good idea while it lasted," Draco muttered as he put down Deneb's notes.
"What do you mean?" Minerva asked.
"We're pulling the plug on this. The risk has become unacceptable."
"What about the numbers Joyner passed to her parents?" Deneb asked.
Harry looked up from rereading the letter. "The damage has already been done. She sent her own letter before you learned of it, so we'll have to adjust accordingly," he said quietly. They weren't cleared to know that Joyner had been deliberately given incorrect numbers.
"I'm sorry. I don't work at the Ministry, or I might have learned of this sooner," Deneb told him.
"Don't be sorry. We never would have learned of it if you hadn't overheard her conversation. Knowing about it, we can lessen the damage," Draco told him before turning to the Headmistress. "We'll have to call in our Aurors," he told her.
"Aurors?" she asked him, surprised. "Why not call in O'Dalley?"
"The aurors are military," Draco explained. "We don't want this to become a civil matter. That would require Ministry involvement. Because both have been conspiring with known Death Eaters, this now becomes a matter of treason and the military is in a better position to handle such things.
"Tobby," he called next. Reaching into his robe, he drew out a small notebook.
With a small pop, a house elf appeared and saluted. "Yous called, sir?"
"Yes, wait one moment, please." He turned to Minerva. "May I borrow your quill?
When she handed it to him, he wrote a quick note and gave it to the elf. "Take this to Twister."
"Yes, sir!" With another salute, he was gone.
Harry shook his head. "I wish you and Dan had never started that," he muttered.
"The elves like it. Leave them alone," the blond said, grinning.
With a sigh, Harry stood up. "Are we going to do this now, Draco?"
"Yes, tonight."
"Then let's at least be smart about it. Minerva, once Twister and his friends arrive, would you summon Joyner and Palmer to your office one at a time, please? Let's not do this in front of the other students."
Minerva looked somewhat take aback by how quickly things were moving. "I had thought to wait," she began.
"It's better to take care of this now," Draco told her seriously. "Let's get them before Palmer begins to wonder why his owl hasn't come back." He looked at Millicent slyly for a moment and nearly laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him.
Seeing McGonagall's troubled expression, Harry bent down next to her and smiled. "I know this is hard for you," he said quietly as Draco and Millicent teased one another about their days in Slytherin.
"Two students, arrested," she murmured.
"I don't know if it would help to think of them as spies or not. They've been your students for many years now and I know that's how you'll see them when they're taken into custody. But please, try to remember, they made their choice."
"Did they, Harry? Does any child really have a choice when his or her parents are Death Eaters?"
"Draco should be all the answer you need. They were out of that life, away from their parents, but chose to hold on to the hate and serve Voldemort. They can't remain in the school to harm or corrupt others."
She looked at him with shattered eyes, but nodded. When the knock came at her office door, she jumped. "Come!" she called.
The door opened and five aurors entered the office. Spotting Draco, Twister went to him and waited to be briefed.
Harry reached out and squeezed Minerva's cold hand. "It will go quick," he assured her. "If you could write the first summons, we'll start."
Nodding jerkily, she reached for her quill.
In less than an hour, both students had been taken into custody and removed from the school. Deneb and Millicent had been sent to remove their belongings from the dorms and each item was thoroughly searched by the aurors.
Minerva stood at her office window, looking out over the night shrouded grounds of the school. She was heartsick, and more tired than she'd like to admit. When she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder, she turned her head and looked into calm, emerald eyes.
"It's done," Harry told her quietly. "It might best if you let it be known to the student body that the missing students were withdrawn from the school by their guardians. Keep it vague. If any students push for more information, tell them that it was a private matter."
"I feel as though I've failed them," she said.
"You didn't, their parents did."
Taking a deep breath, she nodded and turned back to the window.
Motioning the others out of the room, Harry squeezed Minerva's shoulder gently, then exited the room. Closing the door behind him, he scanned the group until he found Deneb and Millicent.
Pulling them aside, he thanked them for their efforts.
"I wish we could have done more," Millicent told him.
"You've done more than I'd ever hoped, Millicent. Had it not been for you two, another student would have been lost to a Blade of Mordoc." He looked back at the closed office door, then faced them once more. "Keep an eye on her for me."
Deneb tensed. "You expect trouble?"
"No, not really. But she took this very hard. She loves the students and she feels as though she's failed Palmer and Joyner. She's depressed over this and is still weak from the attack. Watch out for her, discreetly. If she starts having problems, contact me immediately."
When they nodded, he turned away to look for Draco.
Padfoot Manor (Feb 17th)...
Harry sat back and listened with only half his attention as Draco explained to Amelia about the spies and what was happening with them.
"I suppose I should talk to Brogan," Amelia said finally. That brought Harry's attention back to the conversation.
"Brogan? What for?" he asked.
"The Irish are our allies, Harry. We've danced around this issue several times already, but the simple fact is we have no legal right to hold these two. If we held them until we returned to Britain, a good solicitor would get them off based on their being imprisoned illegally. Brogan needs to climb down from the fence and acknowledge that these kids were spying against all of us, including the Irish. Then we can turn them over to a military tribunal, like we did with the Death Eaters from up north."
"But those Death Eaters were executed," protested Hermione. "These are children!"
"Hermione," Harry said gently, "they were planning on slipping the dagger to Dennis Creevey. Orla is dead, after killing several others. They might as well wear the mark themselves. I'm not too happy about it myself, but we can't ignore the fact that they are a danger to everything we believe in."
Hermione closed her eyes and shivered slightly, wondering what had happened to civilization that they could sit here calmly, thinking about executing two students.
Harry reached out to touch Hermione's hand when a popping sound stopped him. A uniformed elf from Draco's group appeared carrying a message, which he handed to Harry promptly.
He read the note and sighed heavily. Hermione gasped, as she felt the waves of sorrow coming from him.
"Harry?" she said, standing in alarm and looking at him.
"Draco," Harry said in a quiet voice, ignoring Hermione. "Go to the Operations Center and tell Twister he has an hour to turn out the Brigade in full dress uniform. Have the Brigade assemble in the assembly room."
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione demanded of him.
He looked up, his eyes glistening with tears. "Alastor Moody was killed in action yesterday. His body is being returned to us by Mathias Thrawkmort and his people," he said softly.
There was a general intake of breath.
Amelia sprang to her feet, her expression distraught. Moody and she had been partners once, back when she was an Auror. "An hour? Excuse me, I will see you all then."
Harry nodded absently.
"I should go to," Caleb said softly. "I'll make sure the Raiders are ready."
Caleb left with Draco right behind him.
Harry stood and walked over to Hermione. Moody's loss was causing a lot of conflicting emotions in both of them. As he had pointed out numerous times, he never had been a Professor of theirs, but he had worked tirelessly for them, once he had broken away from Dumbledore.
He took her by the hand. "We have to go get dressed," he said softly, then he looked to Remus. "Will you tell the others?"
Remus nodded and walked from the room.
Haven Operations Center...
Harry stood with Hermione and the other members of the Brotherhood. Unlike Harry, they were wearing their Brotherhood Brigade uniforms and cloaks. Harry wore the uniform gifted to him by the King.
Not far away stood Amelia, Arthur and nearly half of the old Wizengamot. Behind them stood the Brotherhood Brigade and Stanton's Raiders.
A small bell chimed, signaling the arrival of a portkey from Britain.
"Troop! Attention!" shouted Twister. The old Auror was having difficulty controlling his emotions. He and Moody had attended both Hogwarts and the academy together. They had covered each other's backs and each owed their life to the other.
Nearly two thousand backs stiffened. In an alcove, the portkey arrived with Mathias Thrawkmort and three men of his detail. Between them was a plain pine coffin. Thrawkmort looked shocked, seeing the entire array of Haven's military forces standing at attention.
"Burial detail, forward!" shouted Twister.
A group of ten men moved forward at a precise half beat march. The strains of 'Last Post' began to play. Traditionally a song from the British Army, Harry had chosen several of their traditions to mix with those of the wizarding world for the Brigade.
The burial detail took the simple pine box from Thrawkmort and his men. One man of the burial detail transfigured the coffin into a more suitable casket, polished and gleaming. Another placed a flag over the top.
With the detail leading the way, everyone moved slowly up a ramp and out of the Operations Center to a bier that had been set up for this purpose.
The casket was levitated onto the bier, while the units reformed into ranks again. Amelia stepped forward, then she turned and faced everyone.
"Alastor Moody was a warrior from the day he left Hogwarts, almost a century ago. Dedicated, he spent his life protecting the innocent and he paid a high price for his efforts. I remember when he was injured so badly in the first war with Voldemort and the Ministry was trying to force him into retirement.
"I said to him, 'Alastor, why are you fighting so hard to stay on the job? You've lost your leg and an eye!'
"He looked at me with that crazy blue eye of his spinning wildly and he said, 'It's my job, Amelia. It's what I am. I hold back the dark.'
"'I hold back the dark.'" Amelia repeated, then she paused for a moment.
"Five simple words with so much meaning. It's a lofty goal to which we should all dedicate ourselves. Alastor was a shining example of what it meant to be tasked with protecting our people and our way of life. He died as he lived, fighting for the light and we find ourselves poorer for his passing.
"We have lost a warrior, a patriot and a friend, but we are enriched by the fact that we knew him or of him. Alastor, you may be gone, but your name will live on among the ranks of the Aurors you trained, and your lessons will be passed to younger generations."
Amelia turned to face the bier, she bowed low and then pulled her wand. "Ut silenti etc nos narro bonus," she intoned. A bright pinprick of light flew from her wand towards the bier, where it slowly started to orbit the casket.
"Troop Tribute!" shouted Twister in a voice thick with emotion.
As one, the members of both Brigades pulled their wands, casting the spell of remembrance and reflection. The single spot of light circling the casket thickened into a great rope of light, spinning around the bier.
Somewhere in the distance, a lone bagpipe began to play the traditional 'Flowers of the Forest', while a house elf ignited the pyre. Everyone stood in silence, listening to the piper play, it's notes mixing with the sound of the fire and the steadily growing roar of the magic accelerating it.
Finally, Twister turned to the troops again.
"Brigades! Dismissed!"
In ones and twos, people began to drift away. One could see from the looks on their faces and their posture that they were still shocked. A legend had passed and in the silence of their souls they asked themselves a burning question. "If he could die, then what makes me safe?"
Harry stood next to Hermione, watching for a moment. Among the Brotherhood, and most of the brigades, dry eyes was a rare thing. He turned to Hermione. "I'll be right back. I need to speak with Twister," he said.
"I'll come with you."
He paused, then he nodded and grabbed her hand.
He found Twister talking quietly with one of his senior Aurors. He walked up to him and waiting politely until the old auror had finished speaking to his man. Twister was one of the few men left who could intimidate Harry.
"Twister."
"Sir?"
"Stand down the training for twenty four hours and make sure the merchants know my tab is open until ten o'clock tomorrow evening. Then let the Brigades know. But I expect them all sober the day after tomorrow."
Twister grinned wolfishly. "Aye, I'll do that, sir. The men will be pleased."
Harry nodded and he and Hermione turned away from him, walking back towards the manor. The rest of the Brotherhood fell in behind them, walking in silence. No one, it seemed, wanted to break it.
"Do I want to know what that was all about?" Hermione asked him.
"The Brigade needs to blow off some steam. Just because I don't drink doesn't mean I can ask them to
make the same decision. This way, they'll toast Moody, get themselves drunk enough to forget for a while."
"When did you open a tab with the pub owners?"
"I had Remus arrange it the day we came back from Leeds. If there was ever a time I wanted to get drunk and forget..."
"Oh... And now? Do you want to forget now?"
He frowned for a moment, then he shook his head. "No, the Brigade can forget, but that's a luxury I can't afford. Voldemort's bill grows daily. When I finally face him, I'll be doing it for people like Moody, Orla, Willie, Percy, Sirius, my parents... The list is long."
"Then how do you deal with it, Harry? Sometimes I feel like I want to scream and start throwing things," she exclaimed. He could feel her frustration bubbling and churning over their bond.
"You can, if you think it will make you feel better, my heart. We all find our own path to dealing with the fear and frustration. I have you, and that helps me more than you can possibly know."
"I don't understand."
He sighed and glanced at her. "Hermione, for most of my life I was denied the one thing you've taken for granted. You knew your parents loved you. I think mine did, but have little direct proof, other than stories that others have told me. Then you came along and you gave me a piece of yourself. I'm in awe still that anyone can give something so precious. Sometimes I'm afraid I'll wake up and discover it was all a dream. You have no idea what it's like to take someone who never knew love and suddenly give it to them.
"No matter how bad things get, just thinking of you and your love for me makes me feel better. You have a power over me..."
She chuckled, then grinned at the images she sent him.
"No, not that way. Well, that too, but you have a power, Hermione. You hold my heart in your hand and could crush it if you wanted. But I know you won't. I never really thought about it, but I suppose love means being totally vulnerable to the one you love and trusting that they won't hurt you."
"That power goes both ways, my heart," she sent to him.
He slipped his arm around her shoulder and his smile broadened. "I know it does, I know it does..."
Behind them, another conversation was just starting.
Draco and Luna started slowing down, falling behind the group. He looked at her curiously, but he kept pace with her.
"I feel your disquiet, Dray. What's bothering you?" she asked, finally stopping along the path.
"I keep thinking about Moody. I didn't know him like the rest of you did, but I learned a bit about him through the dispatches he sent us. He's dead. Gone. And everyone talks of the next adventure, but what if there is no next adventure? What if he's dead and that's it. He's gone, finished, the show is closed and for what? To fight in a war that never ends? There will always be a light and dark side and they will always be at war..."
He trailed off when Luna touched his cheek.
"It frightens you, doesn't it?"
"What do you mean?" he stammered.
"Death. It frightens you."
"Doesn't it frighten you?" he countered.
Luna shrugged. "In a way, it does, but not like you think. I know death. It's part of nature, a vital part. When I die, I will be with my mother, who will be there to welcome me. What frightens me about death is those I would have to leave behind. But I know I'll see them again, when their time comes and it's my turn to welcome those I love. It would break my heart to have to leave you early, Dray. Just as your leaving me would do the same."
"But how can you be so sure there is something else? How do you know it just doesn't end?"
She shook her head and reached up to calm Fuzz, who sat on her shoulder whirring in distress. With her free hand she touched him. "You are thinking too much with this," she told him, touching his head. "And not enough with this," she said, touching his breast where his heart lay.
"When you were injured, I bound our souls together, Dray. Our souls. I grabbed your very essence and refused to let you go. It is the one thing about you that is indestructible. Even the Dementor is incapable of destroying a soul. It thinks it eats them, but really they are stored and someday they will be released.
"I have touched your soul and know exactly how close it came to turning dark, though you didn't. Now we are joined and we'll spend eternity together. When the time comes to leave these shells behind, we'll still be together," she said, then she sighed sadly.
"My poor father, he hangs on because he thinks I need him. And I do. I haven't the heart to tell him to go, knowing he'd be reunited with my mother if he did. It's selfish of me, I suppose. The true tragedy of death is felt by the people left behind, devastated by the passing of those they love. Mr. Moody was a funny man, but he is happy and whole again. He had lived a long time without many of his friends, and now he is with them again.
"That is what you have to believe in, Dray. You know that souls are real, you live with your soul bound to mine," she finished softly.
Draco pulled her into his embrace, holding her tightly. Moody's death had affected him more than he wanted to admit. He had attended a number of services, but this one was close and personal. The cynic in him wanted to protest against her beliefs, but he couldn't. He needed to believe and wanted so much for her to be right.
"Oh, Dray," she said breathlessly. "We will never be apart. Our bond prevents that."
He nodded against her hair. Fuzz, slightly upset at losing her perch, straddled both of them. Then she reached out and patted Draco on the back with her paw.
Padfoot Manor, Hermione's study...
"You wanted to see me, Hermione?" Luna asked from the doorway.
"Luna! Good, you're here. You heard about the Council we'll be going to next week?"
"Yes, I heard. It seems silly to me. I could have arranged for an infestation of pearly toed Snicksnacks for the French," replied the younger girl.
"Luna," Hermione started, then she stopped and shook her head. "Even if that were possible, you can't infest the entire country." She was determined not to let Luna get to her.
Luna smiled dreamily and walked over to the black board, where Hermione had scrawled her equations. "You've never seen Snicksnacks procreate," she murmured, eying the equations. "A portkey with a ward breaker? Fascinating." she said, then she giggled quietly.
Hermione blinked in surprise. It had taken Remus several hours to figure out what the equations meant. Had someone else done the work, it would have taken her some hours to figure it out, as well.
"Yes, that's why I asked you to come here. I thought you could help me with this," Hermione said, suddenly feeling unsure of herself.
Luna faced her and smiled brightly. "You know, you really don't need to throw plates to blow off steam. This is your release valve," she said, waving an arm towards the blackboard.
Hermione stared at her, surprised.
Luna ignored her as she turned back to the board. "You know, the approach is good, but this is time consuming and the angle is all wrong." She picked up an eraser and wiped away part of the board. She ignored Hermione's gasp and expression of anguish.
"What we want," she said, rapidly replacing Hermione's equations with new ones, "is a quick way of getting out of the Council."
"But that's what the portkey would have done," Hermione protested.
Luna nodded. "It would have, yes, but this way is better, you only need one of these now," she replied placing a final rune on the board.
Hermione stopped and stared at the board. Luna had only changed a small section of her work. Walking over to that section, she examined it, scribbling down notes on a slip of parchment and mumbling to herself.
"Yes, yes. This power tap feeds to... to what? Ah, I see. It goes to the field intensity, which controls the size of the..."
Hermione looked up to stare at Luna, her eyes were wide with awe. "Do you know what you've done here?"
Luna caressed Fuzz absently and nodded. "Yes, I've solved your problem. I'm sorry if I was rather abrupt about it, but I don't have a lot of time to spend here," she said, her expression puzzled. "Draco was upset following the service today and I had planned on spending my evening making love to him. It will help distract him. You should try it. But don't use Draco. He's mine. You've got Harry and I daresay you both might enjoy the distraction. Besides, sex is much more fun than Arithmancy. I always feel relaxed after an orgasm."
She smiled vaguely at Hermione, then turned and left the study, leaving the bushy haired witch gaping at her retreating form.
Hermione fell into the chair behind her desk and blew out a breath. She thought about what had just taken place, then grinned. Luna was brilliant, even if she was a bit dotty. Hermione recognized that Luna had her beat hands down when it came to Runes and Magical Creatures. But she was better in Transfiguration and Potions. It was the reason why she had asked her to help. The two complemented each other.
She pulled a special quill from her desk and a stack of clean parchment. She placed the quill on the parchment and tapped it with her wand. The quill jumped up and began to copy the contents of the blackboard to the parchment in a neat script. She set it to make three copies, just to be safe. Once she was sure the quill was working as it should, she sent Harry a series of images involving the bathtub, a very sheer nightgown and some chocolate.
There was a moment of shocked silence over the bond, followed almost instantly by overwhelming approval. A second later, he did something she absolutely loved. He widened the bond so that she could feel the intensity of the desire she had caused and, in turn, fueling her own.
She stood and quickly left the study, knowing her quill would do it's work and that no one would touch her blackboard.
The Bastille, Paris (Feb 20th)...
The man stepped into the center of the arena area and a spotlight shined down on him.
"Report, Monsieur," said the voice of the leader.
"Despite our best efforts, we were unable to stop the Council from meeting. We have lost much of our support internationally. Too many have sided with the British against our Lord," said the man in the arena.
"Madness! I knew this course would be madness! You have brought us to ruin!" shouted a voice.
The chamber broke into whispered conversations.
"Silence," whipped the voice of the leader. "Continue with your report," he commanded, once the chamber settled into silence again.
"The muggle government is looking to placate their counterparts by offering assurances and promises of aid, once they invade Britain. We've managed to prevent any agreements from occurring, but the trend is disturbing. I fear we are losing control over the muggle Government.
"And what of Potter and his government?" asked someone from the darkness.
"Potter and his puppet government will arrive in two days. I thought we might take them then, but we can do nothing until the close of the Council."
"Not true!" shouted one man. The chamber sank again into chaos with people shouting questions and threats.
"SILENCE!" roared the leader. This time his command was followed by a cannon blast spell. There was an enormous flash of light followed by a clap of noise. It echoed in the chamber and everyone grabbed at their ears.
"You know the process," the leader finally said into the silence. "Follow the rules," he said harshly.
A moment later, a wand tip lit up and a number appeared above the man lighting his wand. His face was hidden behind a glamour, and his voice would be magically disguised.
"Yes, member forty? You have something to say?" asked the leader.
"The rules of the Council are an absolute. We cannot directly attack Potter or his followers. But we can indirectly attack him using agents not of our government."
The man in the arena nodded in agreement. "Yes, we have used the criminal syndicates successfully before, but this is a big risk they would be taking. Would they risk it? I don't know."
"Offer them enough money and they'll risk anything," countered member forty with a haughty sniff.
The man in the arena looked toward the area where the leader sat. "Sir? What do you wish us to do? If we are found out, they will move to disenfranchise summarily."
"I think the risk is acceptable. The syndicates have provided us with people in the past who were untraceable. We can do it again," said the leader.
The man bowed. The leader had made his decision. He stepped from the arena and took his seat.
"Is there any other business?" asked the leader.
"Yes. Lord Malfoy is again asking for a necromancer."
"Send him Montrose," said the leader.
There was a moment of shocked silence. Guile Montrose was the personal necromancer of the Minister for Magic, and his son in law. Sending Montrose to Britain would terrify the Minister and remind him that he ruled at their sufferance only.
Laughter rang through the chamber as the members made to leave. The Minister had been reluctant in his help of late and this would send a clear message to everyone. Ignore the shadow government at your own risk.
The leader waited until everyone had left the chamber before he pressed an innocuous stone in the wall behind his seat. The wall swung sideways and he stepped into the well lit passageway. A few minutes later, he stepped out of the Bastille and laughed to himself. The muggles might think the Bastille was gone, but the Fidelius charm still protected the building.
He hailed a muggle taxi. He was getting up in years and didn't really feel like apparating any more. The head archivist of the Ministry of Magic had better things to do with his time than dealing with the aftermath of a splinching.
Beauxbatons (Feb 22nd)...
Harry felt several hands on him and he looked around in surprise. Neville released his shoulder and grinned sheepishly. "Didn't want you hurting yourself on landing, Harry," he murmured.
He grinned. "Thanks, mate."
He looked around and noted unhappily that everyone, including Dan and Emma, were on their feet. He was the only one that seemed to have problems with landings. He sighed and shook his head.
"Are you alright?" Emma asked.
He smiled back at her. "I'm fine."
"He's alright, Mum. He's just annoyed because he has landing problems with portkeys. That's why so many people were hanging onto him when we left."
Emma smirked at him. "Ahhhhh..."
A set of doors opened and Madam Maxime, the Headmistress of the school, entered the room. "Welcome to Beauxbatons," she said in a rich, deep voice.
Amelia stepped forward. "Thank you, Madam Maxime."
Maxime looked at the group, frowning slightly seeing that there was a split in the group. Amelia's people, and Harry and his group, dressed in their cloaks.
"School is still in session, but we are proud to serve as host for the Council. Today there will be several meetings to address protocol, with the Council convening tomorrow. If you will follow me, I will show you to your rooms."
"Please lead on, Madam," Amelia said.
The half giant turned and led them out of the room and through several corridors. As they walked, a number of student's moved to one side.
With their hoods down, Harry and his group made for an imposing presence in the hallways. Madam Maxime parted the crowds, but Harry and the others kept them parted.
The suite of apartments they were taken to was in the southern wing of the school, as far away as possible from the French delegation, while still being in the same building.
"Was it just me or did it seem like there weren't very many boys among the students?" Dan asked.
Draco shook his head. "No wonder my father didn't want me going here. I'd never be interested in the Dark Lord with all these girls around."
Luna looked at him intently.
"But, of course, I'd never be interested in that sort of thing now," he stammered.
Luna smiled at him. "I know dear," she said simply. Fuzz opened one eye and looked at Draco, giving him an inquisitive whir before going back to sleep.
"Good save... I think," Harry muttered to Draco. Neville and Remus chuckled at his discomfort.
"Beauxbatons has always had a higher number of female students than male students. It originally started out in the fourteenth century as a school for witches. The building didn't have the complex anti-muggle charms on it that it does now, so at the time they hid themselves by pretending to be a convent," Remus offered.
Harry raised his staff and started sweeping the room for listening charms and other possible problems.
"A convent?" he said absently, motioning for Remus to keep talking.
Remus' eyebrows rose, then he nodded in approval. "Yes, they managed to avoid most of the unpleasantness of the purges. I understand that they even housed a group of Jesuit Inquisitors for a few years while they tried to purge the local area. From what I've read, it was one of the most fruitless purges run by the Spanish."
Harry motioned for him to keep talking while he walked to one end of the room, frowning.
Amelia scowled at him. She had told him they were safe and secure and he was scanning for spy magics!
"Ummm, yes. At the end of the Inquisition in this region, the Spanish left, content. And many of the witches ended up marrying the men they had been hiding from the Inquisition. As a result of that time, Beauxbatons has always enjoyed a cordial relationship with the locals. People in the area know magic is taught here, they just don't make a stink about it. In exchange, Beauxbatons provides sanctuary in times of war or plague," Remus said. He was worried. He was beginning to run out of things to talk about!
"Interesting," murmured Harry, pointing at a wall painting.
Hermione walked over to the painting and waved her wand a few times. Her eyebrows rose and she looked at Harry worriedly.
The others watched quietly until Susan, with a roll of her eyes, pushed past her aunt. She raised her wand and the painting exploded in flames.
Startled, Harry dove to the floor, pulling Hermione with him and covering her with his body. When the wave of heat passed, he looked up cautiously.
"OOPS!" exclaimed Susan, then she handed her wand to Terry. "I think I just had a hormonal magic flareup. You know how unreliable my magic has been of late," she said contritely. It would have been a perfect explanation, except for her impish grin and the fact that her magic had stabilized a while ago. She placed a hand on her swollen belly and walked to a chair with a serene expression on her face.
Harry carefully climbed off of Hermione, who was looking at him, her eyes smoldering.
"Later, love," he sent to her. She grinned.
"What has gotten into everyone?" Amelia demanded. "Susan, you destroyed that painting!"
"And in doing so, she destroyed the recording charm that was attached to it. While it might have been useful to use as evidence, I prefer being able to speak freely," Harry snapped. Pushing aside his anger, he took a deep breath before continuing. "Amelia, you've let yourself become blinded by the fact that we're participating in one of our oldest courts. That painting was placed there by people who have all but declared open war on us. I said it before, I'll say it again. It's silly to think the French aren't going to do something underhanded just because we're at the Council of Avalon."
Harry turned to Draco. "Make sure you personally sweep the rooms of everyone, including Amelia's staff. If you find anything, isolate it under a privacy charm and we'll see what we can do about it. Also, since we have enough people, work up a schedule so we always have someone awake."
"Harry," Amelia said in protest.
Harry stopped and looked at her, then he ran a hand through his hair. "Amelia," he said gently. "We're in a country that attacked our diplomats and our security team is still missing and presumed dead. Whether you like it or not, we're in enemy territory."
"You know he's right, aunt," Susan said softly.
Amelia sat in a nearby chair and sighed. "I had hoped this would be an uplifting experience. Something we'd be proud to participating in."
Harry walked over to where she sat and he crouched down in front of her. "It still can be, Amelia, but we need to take some precautions. Your safety is paramount to our efforts, so is Susan's, all of us for that matter. Caleb tasked me with keeping us all safe before we left and I intend to do just that."
Amelia adjusted her monocle and peered at him. "How are you planning to accomplish that?"
Harry grinned at her and she realized that all of the Brotherhood members were grinning. She looked at them blankly for a moment before it finally dawned on her and her eyes widened. Harry had brought his Brotherhood, trained fighters who would give no quarter. Even the Grangers had been taught to defend themselves.
The French, in denying them a security detail, had allowed a group of trained killers into their midst.
She stifled the urge to laugh and settled for a rather fierce grin.
Seeing the understanding in the Minister's eyes, he looked at the others. "This room is clear, but watch what you say, all of you, until we get the chance to check every room."
He stood then and walked over to Remus and Hermione. "Good pickup, Remus," he said. "Get together with Hermione and let's see if we can work up a temporary ward on our suites. Nothing major, just a small trespass ward or something like that."
When Remus nodded and moved away, Harry turned to Neville and Ginny. "Do you sense anything nearby Gin?"
Ginny frowned. Her ability to detect dark magic and nullify it was valuable, but that didn't mean she had to like it, or the fact that people kept asking what she sensed.
She closed her eyes and concentrated hard. There was something vague, tickling at the very edge of her senses, but nothing nearby.
"No, nothing close enough to worry about, Harry," she replied.
"Good. I know you hate doing it, but check for us once a day, alright?" he asked.
She nodded reluctantly.
A knock came at the door and everyone turned. Several pulled their wands.
Having caused the sense of paranoia now washing over the group, Harry shrugged and walked towards the door, figuring it was the least he could do.
He opened it and found himself engulfed in a massive hug.
"Lord Potter!" said Sheik Alim as he wrapped the smaller man in a hug. Close enough now to be heard only by Harry, he whispered, "Be cautious, the walls have ears, my friend."
"Sheik Alim!" Harry exclaimed, nodding his understanding. "Please, come in. My wife will be happy to see you and I'm sure Minister Bones would like to meet you."
Harry led the sheik into the room, while Draco ran a quick scan of the Sheik from behind, then gave Harry a thumbs up.
"It is safe to talk in here, Alim," Harry said, pointing to the charred remains of the painting.
Alim's eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. "Ah, excellent! You are taking security better than some of the others. It wasn't until I and a few others started pointing out the recording charms that the Council realized there was a problem."
The Sheik looked around and his eyes lit up when he spotted Hermione. Walking to her, he bowed, took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Lady Potter, you are a wonderful sight! Come! All of you! Tonight we dine in my quarters! We'll break bread and talk of matters great and small."
Authors Notes:
Yes, we've come to the end of another chapter and it's time for the dreaded Authors Goats.
"Baaaaah!" Bob exclaimed angrily.
"What?" Alyx asked in confusion, staring at her daft husband.
He pointed at himself, dressed as a goat, and stomped one hoof indignantly.
"Oh, oops!" Alyx said sheepishly. "Sorry, folks. That should have been Authors Notes!"
With a loud pop and flash of smoke and light, Bob transformed back into himself.
Someone stop me now. I've extended the idea of Disclaimer skits to the blasted AN's! Back to business.
So Dale, still want to know what we've done for you lately? (Evil Cackle) Oh, and the Bastille wasn't destroyed, as you can see in this chapter. Have you ever been to Paris and noticed that rather large area that no one goes near? No? Seems the Fidelius and Muggle-Repelling charms are still working! Remember, this is a work of fiction dealing with magic. Bob and I needed the Bastille, so we simply changed history. Get used to that. It probably won't be the last time we use that trick in our stories!
Clt_71: The authors here at FFA work very hard to put out quality stories and I don't think they'd mind if I thanked you on their behalf. I'm glad you're enjoying not only our story, but the others found here.
Azumi: We're glad you found us. Welcome to FFA!
Vidar: Writing the twins is tricky. They have a bad habit of taking control of our muse and running with it. No need to apologize for your English. It's perfectly understandable and a heck of a lot better than my Norwegian!
Srikanth: Ginny was raised in a household of seven men and two women (including herself). Is it any wonder she acts like Molly? Would you rather she burp, scratch herself in public and break wind and blame it on the dog instead? (Grin) Of course she acts a lot like Molly! Just keep in mind that she's sixteen and still finding herself. We're betting that time and Neville will mellow her a bit.
Princess Fictoria: Thank you so much for the offer. That was sweet of you. We're just glad you're enjoying story.
Melferd: Bob is beyond therapy, believe me! But thanks for the sympathy.
Hesuse: Bob and I really don't have anything against France, but I suppose we could gird ourselves up for war. What do you think? Can Bob and I take 'em? (Grins manically)
For those who asked: The new wing on the manor is still being tested by house elves. They've found nothing wrong so far, but they haven't given the humans the all-clear yet.
Harryetty: According to the British Embassy website, the offices of the Consulate-General in Paris is located at 18bis rue d'Anjou. Our mistake was in labeling the Embassy, rather than the office of the Consulate-General. The Embassy itself is listed as being located at 35 rue du Faubourg St Honoré, not 37 rue du Faubourg St Honoré. If the website is wrong, you might want to slip a note to your uncle.
Digeediva: Why would Harry have a problem with assassinating a head of state? He's not a politician and doesn't really understand the finer points of diplomacy. He's a soldier and sees a rather simple way of solving a sticky problem. Cut off the head and step over the body. No muss, no fuss. As for the wizards flu, the last time Harry had it, they caught it very early. This time, Harry didn't bother to tell anyone he wasn't feeling well and it came on with a vengeance. The upswing to that is he managed to save a plane load of people and add a new wing to the manor. Hey, everyone wins. Except Tonks, but we promised her we wouldn't talk about that.
Seishi: Ah, no, we're actually very glad Dumbledore, Ron and Amhar are dead. And it's not our fault France got involved in the war. Blame Voldemort! (Walks away muttering to herself)
You know, I've just realized something. Many of you are rather blood-thirsty! We'll get to the blood, guts and gore, but we can't have that in every chapter, folks, or the plot won't move forward and we'll still be writing this story a year from now! The battles are coming, but we have to move all our pawns into place first.
Musing: I'd reply, but I'm still trying to recover from your stream of consciousness there at the end of your review. Here, have a cookie and calm down.
That's it, folks. Thanks for reading and we hope you continue to enjoy the story!
Alyx and Bob