The Potter Conspiracy
A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Disclaimer: Not mine. It all belongs to that British lady.
Chapter Twenty-Three – The Enemy of Your Enemy
October 24th, 1995 – Hogwarts, Headmaster’s Office
“Well, Albus, I suppose you’re wondering why you’re talking to me right now and not Amelia,” Croaker spoke into the mirror.
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“I convinced her that you and I needed a heart-to-heart before she speaks to you about future operations.”
“Oh?” asked Dumbledore cautiously, suddenly worried by Croaker’s casual tone.
They were speaking together on Harry’s mirrors, which Harry had reluctantly given to Madam Bones after Parvati was rescued from Hogwarts. She convinced him that, however distasteful it may be, it was necessary for her to stay in communication with Dumbledore.
“Indeed,” smiled Croaker, and Dumbledore’s stomach sank even further. With all that had beset him in the past few days—the loss of Snape, the failed kidnapping, the rebellion of Fawkes and his staff—he had an ominous feeling that Croaker was about to trump everything.
“And what is it you wish to say, Algernon? You know as well as I do that the time for politics and professional courtesy has passed.”
“Well put. And I think you know what I want to talk about. Potter.”
“What about Mr. Potter?”
“You will give an oath on your magic to stop your attempts to harm him or hand him over to the Dark Lord.”
Dumbledore snorted ungraciously into the mirror. “I will? And why in Merlin’s name would I do that, Algernon? That would be tantamount to handing over Britain to the Dark Lord. You know I will do no such thing, despite your efforts to prolong the war.”
Croaker looked hard at Dumbledore for a few seconds, then spoke evenly. “I’m not asking. We want your cooperation in destroying the Dark Lord, but it has come to the point that you are just as much of a danger to our plans as the Dark Lord himself. You will make the oath, or I will kill you.”
Dumbledore stared in disbelief at Croaker, hardly daring to believe his ears. He gathered himself after a moment and cleared his throat. “You…I have known you for almost a century, Algernon, and I do not believe you would go so far. Amelia would not allow it, and you seem to be forgetting that I am your better in a duel.”
Croaker quirked an eyebrow. “Who said I would be dueling you? I’m the Head Unspeakable, Albus; I know hundreds of obscure ways for people to die, and I have contacts everywhere. Do you really think I wouldn’t be able to find a way to get to you at Hogwarts? What Amelia doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
Dumbledore paled slightly at Croaker’s words, still incredulous at being threatened so boldly.
“Your threats are empty. You know as well as I do that you need my help in the war.”
Croaker smiled again and raised his wand so that it could be seen in the mirror. “I, Algernon Octavius Croaker, swear on my magic that I will attempt to have Albus Dumbledore killed if he does not swear the oath I require.”
Dumbledore’s mouth fell open as the old Unspeakable finished and his wand flashed. He knew that he had antagonized Bones and her allies to the breaking point, but never had he expected such a complete falling out. Although he felt safe at Hogwarts and was stronger magically than anyone in Britain, he knew that Croaker was not exaggerating his reach. He was not an enemy to be trifled with.
“You cannot do this, Algernon,” Dumbledore said quickly, his sense of desperation rising. “It violates your oaths to the Ministry; it will destroy you.”
Croaker shrugged. “I’m well aware of my oaths, Albus. They require me to defend magical Britain and to never use my knowledge for nefarious purposes. As I see it, you are currently an enemy of magical Britain. Ergo, anything goes.”
Dumbledore stared at Croaker, his heart rate slowly rising as he realized that the man was serious. He needed the help of Bones and Croaker and their allies to win the war; he could not do so if they were intent on assassinating him.
“Has it truly gone so far?” Dumbledore asked softly.
“It has gone farther, Albus,” Croaker replied grimly. “You will be held accountable for your actions after the war. Amelia will see to it, and I will back her. Your plans have failed, and thank Merlin for that. You will do things our way or you will die.”
Dumbledore clenched his jaw, but did not respond right away. He had known a reckoning would come eventually, but he had expected time to maneuver things to his advantage. Croaker seemed to be taking no prisoners.
“Algernon, if I make that oath, it will doom us all. It will take Mr. Potter years before he is ready to confront the Dark Lord. Are you so heartless as to destroy an entire country for the sake of one boy? You cannot ask me to embrace disaster!”
Croaker leaned forward into the mirror, and his face clouded over with an expression that Dumbledore couldn’t name.
“Listen very closely to me, Albus. This is your last chance. I have had enough of your foolishness. The disaster you speak of has already happened. I cannot contain it while fighting you every step of the way. Either you swear that oath or I’ll have you killed. Which is it going to be?”
Dumbledore swallowed heavily and closed his eyes. He saw no other options. It was untenable to him to fight both the Dark Lord and the resistance at the same time. Eventually he would lose. For the time being, he had no choice but to accept defeat.
“I will make the oath,” he said quietly.
“Let’s do it now then. Bring your wand in my view.”
Dumbledore paused as he raised his wand, seeking to delay this disaster and think of ways to phrase the vow that would allow him some freedom to maneuver.
Croaker sneered at Dumbledore’s thoughtful expression. “I know what you’re thinking. ‘How can I phrase this in such a way as to give only the appearance of compliance?’ You will not choose the wording, you bloody fool. You will swear to ‘cease all attempts, both directly and indirectly, to harm Harry Potter or turn him over to Voldemort or his agents.’”
Dumbledore grimaced. “That is…too binding, Algernon. Should he become a threat to me, I would not be able to defend myself. And there is no time limit. What if Mr. Potter embraces the darkness at some point in the future? He has already killed mercilessly.”
Croaker stroked his goatee as he eyed Dumbledore. “I didn’t think you’d go for that one. Fair enough. You will ‘cease all attempts, both directly and indirectly, to harm Harry Potter, unless he attacks you first, and you will cease all attempts to turn Harry Potter over to Voldemort or his agents.’ You’ll have to live with the time limit. I’ll kill the boy myself if he goes dark.”
Dumbledore sighed and looked bleakly at Croaker, but did as he was instructed, raising his wand near his face so that Croaker could see it. “I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, swear on my life and my magic that I will hereby cease all attempts to harm Harry Potter, both directly and indirectly, unless he attacks me first. I will also cease all attempts to turn Harry Potter over to Voldemort or his agents.”
His wand flashed brightly, and Dumbledore slumped in his chair after giving the oath.
“Are you satisfied?”
Croaker considered for a moment. “That will do, I suppose. You did the right thing, Albus. I would not have enjoyed having you assassinated. As you said, we need to work together, not against each other.”
Dumbledore nodded weakly. “Out of curiosity, just how were you planning to accomplish my death?”
“A proper wizard never reveals his secrets,” Croaker smiled. “You know that. Now that we have that settled, let’s talk about more important business. Have you listened to the wireless at all this morning?”
“I have.”
“Then you know that our group is being accused of kidnapping and murdering patients at St. Mungo’s. The bastards even published a photo of Smythe’s body in the Prophet. Fudge is trying desperately to turn the public against us, and so far people are very confused. We’re going to make a little statement of our own later tonight, and I think Amelia wants you to be there. She will give you the details.”
“You are planning to commandeer the wizarding wireless, I take it?”
“You better believe it. It’s time to wage a propaganda war of our own, except that we’ll be telling the truth. Potter may be there, so you had best keep your distance from him. We’ll make sure he doesn’t approach you.”
Dumbledore nodded. “Is that all, then?”
Croaker rubbed his silver goatee again in thought. “I believe so. We can discuss Hogsmeade later. I’ll find Amelia and pass the mirror along to her. I know she wants to speak to you about Auror Tonks, and something about an oath you demanded of Hermione Granger.”
Dumbledore sighed, knowing that this was the beginning of a very tiresome day.
“Oh, one last thing, Albus,” Croaker said. “How many more people can Hogwarts hold? They will likely be approaching the castle in droves after our announcement.”
Dumbledore considered the question. “Approximately 200 students remain, plus 30 members of my Order and another 100 civilians. We could probably house another 1,000 people without taxing our resources beyond the breaking point.”
“And the healers and patients from last night?”
“They are fine, for the most part. Frank Longbottom was wounded, and of course you know about Miss Tonks. Most of the healers are staying, and with their help Poppy can handle the extra work without too much difficulty.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. I’ll find Amelia for you, so hold tight. Pleasure doing business with you, Albus,” Croaker said brusquely before signing off.
“Likewise,” Dumbledore murmured, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead in aggravation. He felt a tension headache coming on, and he was out of Severus’ personal pain relief potion.
He was not looking forward to the coming conversation with Amelia Bones. Her footnote to him in yesterday’s letter had promised humiliation, and he wasn’t sure how much more of that he could take. His carefully-laid plans had fallen apart entirely, leaving him no choice but to comply with the wishes of others. It was not a position he relished.
Sometimes he wished he could retire and develop new kinds of sweets for a living.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bones Manor, Harry’s Bedroom
“Wow, he doesn’t look anything at all like those pictures the Prophet published. He was quite handsome, really.”
“He looks happy, doesn’t he?” replied Harry. “I wish I could have met him.”
He and Parvati were sitting side-by-side on his bed, examining the photographs in his album. Parvati was curious about Harry’s parents, and Harry obliged her by showing her the album Hagrid had made for him at the end of first year.
“Your parents look so happy too,” she mused. They were looking at a set of pictures from James and Lily’s wedding, when the Marauders were still intact and tragedy had not yet destroyed the group. Sirius was happily trying to trip James while Lily attempted to gather the group for a photograph. Pettigrew kept slinking off the page.
“You look exactly like your father.”
“That’s what everybody tells me,” Harry said distractedly, turning the page to show her a set of photos featuring himself as a baby. In one photo he swatted happily at a toy snitch that was buzzing around his head, controlled by his father’s wand. His new favorite, however, was the photo he had recovered from Sirius Black’s vault. He couldn’t help but smile at the photo of the huge black dog chasing its tail while his infant self screamed in delight on its back.
“Aw, that’s so cute,” cooed Parvati. “He really does seem like he would have been an awesome godfather. That letter was sweet.”
Harry nodded. “I bet he could have told me some fantastic stories about my parents.” He did not ordinarily talk so candidly about his parents, but Parvati’s curiosity about his past had thawed his reticence. He felt like he was giving her a guided tour of his life, and he somehow knew he could trust her not to use it against him.
“You really don’t know much about them, do you?” Parvati asked softly, trying to get Harry to meet her eyes.
Harry just shook his head, his eyes glued to the laughing child and the big black dog.
“Maybe you should write to Professor Lupin. He seems to have known them well. I bet he would be willing to tell you some stories, although I don’t understand why he wouldn’t have done so already.”
“Maybe,” Harry replied. “I don’t think he liked me very much, for some reason. I had to beg him to teach me the patronus charm in third year.”
“You should do it, Harry,” Parvati insisted. “He can at least tell you why he wasn’t around when you were growing up. I would have thought he’d want to help you.”
Harry snorted lightly. “I suppose. But I’m willing to bet Dumbledore has something to do with it. He always does.”
Both sat silently in thought, staring at the moving pictures and thinking about what might have been.
“I can always talk to that bloody traitor in the dungeons,” Harry said bitterly, “although he’d probably lie to me. Maybe I can convince Madam Bones to dose him with veritaserum and let me ask him questions about my parents.”
“That’s an idea,” Parvati replied, but Harry could tell she was less than enthusiastic about the idea.
“Anyway, there you have it,” said Harry, abruptly closing the photo album and getting to his feet. “That’s all I really know about them.”
It was clear to Parvati that he didn’t want to talk about them any further. “They seem like wonderful people, Harry; I’m sure you’ll be able to find out more about them someday.”
Harry nodded, but his mind was already working to discover other things to talk about.
“What about your parents? Are you sure they’re not hiring assassins to kill me by now?”
Parvati grinned at his question. “I’m sure they’re not happy with my reasons for staying, but they wouldn’t do something like that. I explained that I’m safe in my letter. My father will rant and rave for a while, my mother will be disappointed, and Padma will just call me an idiot. But they won’t disown me or hire hit wizards or anything crazy like that.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t send a mirror to them, but Madam Bones wanted it to talk to Dumbledore,” Harry said, grimacing at the thought of the traitorous old man.
“It’s fine, Harry. They’ll have to be happy with an occasional letter.”
Upon her arrival at Bones Manor, Parvati had sent a letter to her family, who were now staying with friends in India, informing them that she was safe. So far they had not responded, but the security measures at Bones Manor prevented letters by owl from arriving quickly.
Owls were prevented from delivering letters directly to the house. They provided tempting targets for those who might be monitoring the area. Instead, incoming mail was redirected to a safe house, which would be checked by a Bones house elf several times per day. Outgoing mail was handled in a similar fashion. Of course, most correspondence was delivered by the house elves, circumventing the owls entirely.
“They’re going to blame me for pulling you into this,” said Harry. “I’m sure Padma has told them everything that happened with Dinesh.”
Parvati shrugged. “She probably has. It’s okay, Harry. They don’t like me to be involved in all of this, but they’ll get over it.”
“Your, er, father isn’t anything like Dinesh, is he?” Harry asked hesitantly.
“Why do you ask, Mr. Potter?” Parvati grinned, amused that Harry seemed to be afraid of her parents. “Was my uncle not to your liking?”
Harry returned her grin. “He was quite an, er, interesting person. But I wasn’t fond of his choice of glamours for me.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Er, never mind,” Harry said hurriedly, realizing he should never have mentioned Dinesh’s effeminate disguise for him. “Let’s just talk about something else. I think Tonks will be coming back this afternoon; I really hope Dumbledore hasn’t done anything to her.”
Parvati eyed him mirthfully. “Alright, Harry, I’ll let you off the hook this time, but I want to hear the story eventually. You really care about Auror Tonks, don’t you?”
Harry’s face heated up a little. “Well, she’s, er, grown on me, I guess. I don’t want her to get hurt, and I don’t like her being anywhere near that old bastard.”
Parvati, amused by his blush, persisted. “Oh, are you sweet on your trainer, Harry? I think you may have a little competition though.”
“Huh?” asked Harry confusedly. “I’m not…wait, what do you mean? What competition?”
“That other Auror, the one who looks a little like you. He’s been wearing a hole in the floor all morning and talking about her constantly.”
“Savage? He’s her partner; of course he’s going to be worried.”
Parvati rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Harry. You’re about as observant as Ron Weasley when it comes to romance.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bones Manor, Dueling Room
“Alright, Potter, first things first,” said Proudfoot imperiously as he and Harry strode into the Bones Manor Dueling Room. “You’re going to be taking it easy this afternoon so you’ll be ready for tonight. I don’t want you exhausted going into a hostile situation. But we still need to cover some things.”
Harry nodded obediently and waited for Proudfoot to continue. Tonks had returned from Hogwarts an hour previously, a little shaken up and sporting several healing bones, but otherwise whole. Proudfoot would handle his training again in her absence.
“That smoke we encountered at St. Mungo’s. Do you know what it was?”
“No,” Harry replied. “I just cast the bubblehead charm like you said.”
“Well, you did as you should. The smoke would have incapacitated you rather quickly had you not cast the charm. And you did exactly the right thing in not trying to dispel it. Do you know why that is?”
“Well…” Harry pondered. “I didn’t know what it was, but it also made our attackers blind. Since we were just trying to hold on to the room, all we had to do was cast a few offensive spells and then stay defensive.”
“That’s right, Potter, but there’s another reason. That smoke doesn’t dispel easily. It’s called ‘disabling smoke,’ or DS for short. It comes from a spell that reproduces the smoke as quickly as you can dissipate it. You would have exposed yourself to fire while you tried vainly to push the smoke away from you. They were trying to surprise us and move quickly through our position, but we put up a strong resistance. You did a good thing by taking out the ceiling, whether it was intentional or not.”
Harry nodded. With every mission he went on, he was gaining valuable experience and becoming more comfortable in battle situations. This time, at least, he hadn’t been forced to kill anyone at point-blank range.
“What I want to cover today is the messenger patronus,” Proudfoot continued. “Sometimes, in conditions where you’re cut off from your comrades, the only way to communicate is through a patronus. I understand you know how to cast one?”
“I do.”
“Show me.”
Harry concentrated, willing his stag to appear after a whispered ‘expecto patronum.’ A bright silver stag was soon prancing around the room, bathing everything in its ghostly light. Proudfoot watched it canter for a few moments, impressed despite himself by the ease and power of Harry’s spell.
“Right, then,” he said, clearing his throat as the stag slowly dissipated. “That will do. When you want to use a patronus for communication, you have to provide it with a memory, almost exactly like you would when copying a memory for a pensieve extraction. The patronus will absorb the message and follow your instructions. It will arrive much faster than you might think.”
For the next half-hour, Harry practiced summoning his patronus and sending messages to Proudfoot. He once sent a brief missive to Parvati, forgetting that she had likely just finished her bath. He and Proudfoot heard a faint scream above them, and Harry winced at his mistake. Proudfoot gave him a rare smile.
When he was satisfied with Harry’s performance, he called an end to the session.
“That’s enough, Potter. I need to confer with Director Bones about tonight, so I’ll be passing you off to Healer Blewitt. She’s going to teach you and your girlfriends about some basic battlefield healing techniques.” With that, he concentrated and sent off a brief patronus message that exited the room.
A few minutes later, a stately looking healer in green robes entered the room, followed by Parvati, Hermione, and Susan. The healer was carrying a nude, life-sized dummy that was, to Harry’s embarrassment, an anatomically correct male.
“This is where I make my exit,” Proudfoot addressed the room. “Healer Blewitt, don’t put up with any crap from Potter,” he said, and saw himself out.
Harry rolled his eyes and gave Healer Blewitt the once-over. She was a middle-aged witch that he had seen at Bones Manor before, usually after one of their raids. She looked to be in her early 50s, and had a no-nonsense demeanor like so many other people now staying at the house.
The girls gathered around her as the Healer laid the dummy at her feet and gestured for Harry to join them. Parvati and Hermione had new wands, as theirs had been destroyed in the phoenix fire that ravaged Dumbledore’s office. They weren’t a perfect fit, but they would suffice until a proper match could be found.
“Now,” started Healer Blewitt, “I’m a very busy woman, and I don’t have time to repeat myself. Pay careful attention. Today I want to show you some of the basic battlefield first aid spells. Director Bones wants all of you to know what to do when you encounter injuries from blasting curses, cutting curses, and the like.”
Getting nods all around, the Healer continued. “This is one of our training dummies; I like to call him Godfrey, but don’t ask why. When I activate the charms on Godfrey, his body will respond to stimuli much like a human body would. His bones will break, his body will bleed, and pain will register on his features. Any questions so far?”
“Er,” Harry said hesitantly, keeping his eyes away studiously from the nude dummy’s midsection, “do you suppose we could cover up his, er, equipment?”
Even Hermione giggled a little at Harry’s question, and Healer Blewitt raised an unamused eyebrow. “And do you suppose that it’s impossible to suffer an injury to one’s ‘equipment,’ Mr. Potter? I assure you that is not the case. I suppose if you would rather not know how to preserve your masculinity in an emergency…”
“No, no, that’s alright,” Harry replied quickly, his face turning a little green at the thought. Parvati caught his eye and gave him a huge smile, which he returned weakly.
“Right, then. Listen carefully. When a patient is struck with a blasting curse…”
For the next hour or so, Harry and the girls were treated to the Healer’s explanations for how to deal with life threatening injuries in an emergency situation. They learned a handful of spells to stop bleeding, apply pressure, and create a kind of stasis around wounds, all of which were meant to give the wounded person time to be seen by an actual healer.
Hermione asked constant questions, and Harry noted that her mood seemed to have improved. Croaker had assigned her to work as Silas Bungard’s assistant just this morning. Since Bungard was essentially Croaker’s chief of staff, Hermione felt a little like she was apprenticed to an Unspeakable. Her eyes lit up again when she learned something new, and Harry could tell that the old Hermione was slowly on her way back. He only hoped she would leave him be until he felt like dealing with her.
By the time they were finished, Harry was sick to his stomach. He had seen more of Godfrey’s blood, bones, and entrails than he would ever forget. Healer Blewitt asked him a couple of times to hit the dummy with cutting curses, but she learned quickly to rely on Susan Bones instead. Harry’s first cutting curse had eviscerated the dummy and covered them all in foul-smelling, realistic gore. All three girls had glared viciously at him until he apologized.
Parvati had intentionally embarrassed him by asking how to treat wounds to the exclusively male portions of the dummy’s anatomy. Harry’s face had burned bright red as the healer went into explicit detail about blood flow and nerve endings, and he refused to participate further in that particular discussion. The girls snickered at him, but Harry noticed that they paid close attention to what the healer was saying. He was greatly relieved when they moved on to knee injuries.
When they were finally done, poor Godfrey had endured burns, lacerations, explosions, eviscerations, bone breaks, and severed arteries. It was a lesson Harry would not soon forget, but he hoped never to find his new knowledge necessary. He knew for certain that he didn’t want to pursue a career as a Healer.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bones Manor, Harry’s Bedroom
“Bottoms up, Mr. Potter.”
Harry winced as he swallowed the bright green potion the Healer handed him. It tasted like the essence of dirty socks combined with distilled vinegar. Or at least what he imagined those things to taste like.
“I know how it tastes, but your vision will be perfect for the next eight hours or so. You won’t need your glasses for your mission.”
Harry nodded and thanked the Healer, who took the empty potion vial and left the room. He took off his glasses and looked around the room in surprise. Parvati watched him with no little amusement.
“You look like you just swallowed a goblet of dragon dung,” Parvati grinned. “Was it really that bad?”
“Worse,” said Harry, chugging a glass of water. “Do you know any way to get the taste out of my mouth?”
“Sure,” said Parvati, hopping off his bed and approaching him. “Do you trust me?”
At Harry’s hesitant nod, she raised her wand to his lips. “Open wide.”
Harry followed her instructions. Parvati whispered something nearly inaudible and moved her wand just inside Harry’s mouth, and he suddenly felt a burst of liquid in the roof of his mouth. When he swallowed, the awful taste of the potion was replaced with a fresh, minty flavor.
“Oh, wow,” said Harry, smacking his lips. “Thank you. That’s much better.”
“Glad to be of service, Mr. Potter,” said Parvati, who was examining Harry’s face curiously now that he had removed his glasses. “You look good without your glasses. Your eyes are gorgeous.”
“Erm, thanks,” Harry replied, looking at her shyly. “Yours are, er, gorgeous too.”
Parvati rewarded him with a dazzling smile, then looked him seriously in the eye. “I know you said this mission is supposed to be safe, Harry, but promise me you’ll be careful tonight. I’ve got a bad feeling about it. I don’t know why.”
“It’ll be fine, Parvati. Tonks and the others did recon on the site for a few days. They know what they’re doing.”
“I guess….just, don’t do anything brave and stupid, alright? Humor me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Harry’s acquiescence was followed by several seconds of tense silence as the teens regarded each other. Parvati tilted her head at him as she looked him in the eye.
Finally losing her patience, she pulled him to her by the front of his robes and planted a kiss firmly on his lips.
Harry was so shocked by the sudden movement that he did not even try to return it. His eyes widened as he felt the softness of Parvati’s lips on his own. When they stayed there, he finally pushed forward gently, only to find that she had already pulled away.
She regarded him curiously for a moment, then frowned. “Well, that was not exactly earth-shattering. I didn’t mean to imply that you had to, er…”
“No,” interrupted Harry quickly, having finally regained his wits. “I can do better,” he blurted out.
Parvati smiled widely at his earnestness.
“Well, I suppose we could practice together after you come back safely,” she said, gently patting his chest.
Harry, still dumbstruck from the kiss, nodded. “Practice. Yeah.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wizarding Wireless Headquarters, just beyond the wards
Five dark shapes moved stealthily through the night, approaching a two-story building with a large tower extending from its center. Fifteen other similar shapes were approaching from other directions, all moving silently and swiftly. They stopped just outside the primary defensive wards.
Madam Bones and Proudfoot had planned this raid based on the reconnaissance that Tonks, Savage, and Blankenship had performed in the past few days. The job seemed easy enough. With two curse breakers bringing down the flimsy wards, four teams of four would enter the building from multiple directions and quickly take out the security guards. Once the building was secure, a team of Aurors would be able to put up quick and dirty wards of their own, preventing reinforcements from arriving inside the building. The wards wouldn’t last forever, but they would hold long enough for Madam Bones to address magical Britain over the wireless.
Albus Dumbledore, Bill Weasley, and two others would remain outside the building to prevent Ministry Aurors or Death Eaters from trying to penetrate the new wards.
Bones was reluctant to embark on another large raid, as several of her Aurors were injured and Smythe had been killed at St. Mungo’s. She and Croaker agreed, however, that they had no choice. The Ministry’s propaganda campaign on the wireless and in the Daily Prophet was skewering the resistance to Voldemort on a daily basis.
She was taking no chances with the present operation, which is why she had requested Dumbledore’s presence. Though she was reluctant to involve Harry and Dumbledore together, she accepted Croaker’s word on the old man’s oath. She was confident that Dumbledore’s presence would deter Ministry forces from launching a costly counter-offensive. She was hopeful that the intelligence gathered by Tonks and her team was accurate; if it was, they would meet little resistance inside the building.
Harry was paired with Proudfoot, Blankenship, Savage, and Madam Bones herself. Tonks’ injuries prevented her from participating. Harry watched curiously as Blankenship placed an elaborate rune stone next to the primary defensive wards of the building. He stepped back and began a chant that coincided with that of three other ward breakers arrayed around the property, including Bill Weasley.
So far they had seen no response from within the building. It took an agonizingly long two minutes, but eventually the wards fell with a loud crash and Proudfoot motioned everyone forward. Savage would be staying outside with Dumbledore, Weasley, and another Auror to deter any external assaults.
Harry trotted alongside Madam Bones, his wand out and ready for anything. They arrived quickly at a side door to the building, and Proudfoot cautiously opened it and checked beyond its threshold. Finding the way clear, he motioned everyone forward. They were not using disillusionment spells, as they didn’t want to risk hitting one of their own with friendly fire.
Harry entered the building and looked around quickly. They were in some kind of break room, and he could see no employees. As they moved out of the room and into a long hallway, he could hear shouts in the distance and the sound of spellfire. It was over quickly, and Harry guessed that the security guards had been stunned according to plan.
“Blankenship, get started on our own wards as soon as Beta joins us. We’re still vulnerable for the next few minutes,” Proudfoot whispered.
“No worries,” Blankenship responded, looking over his shoulder for their comrades, who were due to arrive at any moment.
“Keep moving,” Bones commanded, and the group approached a stairwell that would lead them to their destination. Proudfoot opened the door cautiously and peered up the stairs, a shield spell on his lips, but the way appeared clear. He motioned everyone forward.
The group exited the stairwell to find themselves in the middle of another long hallway. There were t-shaped junctions at both ends, but their destination lay at the end of the hallway to their right: a huge set of double doors that led to the broadcast room. The doors appeared unguarded.
As Bones and her group observed their surroundings, the four members of Team Beta approached them from behind at a jog.
“We’re on schedule,” Auror McMurphy whispered to Bones as he arrived. “Delta has the first floor secured.”
Madam Bones nodded. “Let’s do it then.”
They had not yet encountered another human being in the building, and Harry’s sense of danger was warning him that something was wrong. This had been too easy.
“I don’t like this,” he whispered to Madam Bones as they approached the huge double doors.
“I don’t either, Mr. Potter. I had expected at least some—,” she began, when the doors in front of them blew off their hinges in a loud explosion. Blankenship, thinking quickly, shielded the group from the blast, but everyone was nearly knocked off their feet. At the same time, cutting and blasting curses erupted from the corridors on both sides of them. Disillusioned Ministry Aurors had been lying in wait, ready to flank them at the junction.
The air was filled with shouting and grunting as Madam Bones’ group shielded themselves and tried to return fire. Caught in a crossfire and facing an unknown danger in the broadcast room, they were suddenly in a very unpleasant situation.
Harry flinched as an Auror from Beta screamed and fell in a heap, his shoulder shattered by a blasting curse. They were going to be cut down if they stayed in the middle of the junction.
“Fall back!” Bones ordered, and both teams moved to obey. Harry grabbed the downed Auror by his good arm and pulled him roughly back into the main corridor, the man groaning as he left a small streak of blood on the ground.
Harry knelt and gently performed a mild cauterizing spell he had learned earlier that day. The wounded man was clearly going into shock, so Harry activated the Auror’s portkey and sent him back to Bones Manor.
“It’s a trap!” Blankenship yelled over the chaos. “We need to leave.”
Bones, kneeling and wielding her wand in her one good arm, hesitated to agree. It was imperative that they hold the building long enough to send a message out on the wireless. Her decision was made when Team Charlie came sprinting up the corridor behind them, drawn by the sound of battle.
“No,” replied Bones, “we’re going through those doors according to plan. Charlie, get ready for covering fire, and Alpha will make a dash for it. Beta, you follow.”
The four members of Team Charlie moved into position, just on the edge of the junction. At a nod from Bones, they leaned around both corners and unleashed a torrent of spell-chained attack spells, intent on forcing their attackers on the defensive.
“Now,” Bones ordered, and she, Harry, Proudfoot, and Blankenship sprinted across the open corridor. A burst of fire grazed their backs, but they arrived in the broadcast room unhurt. Cautiously taking in their surroundings, Harry noted that the cavernous room was largely empty, save for furniture on one side and what looked to be a control panel of some sort on the other. It appeared to be uninhabited, and Bones confirmed it with a quick wave of her wand.
“Right,” she said, “we need to help secure the hallway, and then we can lay down our own wards and do the broadcast.”
The group moved to the open doors, where they could hear Charlie still laying down fire, but turned abruptly when they heard a whisking sound come from the other side of the room, near the control panel.
Ten masked Death Eaters suddenly materialized, their wands extended and spells already on their lips.
“Shite,” Harry muttered.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Standing outside the entrance to the wizard wireless building, Albus Dumbledore heard the first explosion and the chaos of spellfire that followed. Knowing that something had gone badly wrong and seeing no resistance gathering outside the wards, he left Bill Weasley in charge and moved swiftly into the building, dreading what he would find.
He hurried past two stunned and bound security guards and up the main staircase of the building. As he approached the main corridor, he could hear the sounds of battle and intermittent screams and explosions. He encountered four of Bone’s Aurors taking cover behind the walls and returning fire sporadically against opponents in both directions.
He could also see through the destroyed doors of the broadcast room and into the battle taking place there. There were clearly Death Eaters here.
The Aurors gave Dumbledore a look of immense relief as he arrived at their position.
“I shall take the left corridor, you four take the right,” he said authoritatively. “We must secure our flanks before we can help inside. On three.”
As he counted, Dumbledore effortlessly transfigured four small pieces of the shattered doors into huge, snarling wolves.
At the end of his count, three Aurors leaned around the right corridor and fired a barrage of blasting and cutting curses at their opponents while the fourth member shielded them. Dumbledore directed his wolves to the left, sending them sprinting down the corridor. His opponents, distracted by the snarling menace bearing down on them, desperately blasted the wolves, destroying all four of them. But they had accomplished their purpose. Half-a-dozen rapid stunners filled the hallway, and three attackers fell before they could regroup and defend themselves. Dumbledore turned and fired a wide-area stunning spell down the other corridor, just in case any resistance remained in that direction.
“Remain here and guard the rear,” Dumbledore ordered the Aurors, stepping into the main corridor and glancing into the chaos of the broadcast room. What he saw did not hearten him. At least two Aurors were down, and he counted at least seven Death Eaters in the large room. Madam Bones was pinned in a corner behind a transfigured table, two Aurors were battling back to back against four Death Eaters, another was outnumbered two-to-one, and Harry Potter was engaging Bellatrix Lestrange in a vicious duel.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the Death Eaters portkeyed into the room, Harry immediately fired his strongest piercing curses at the entire group. One masked opponent screamed as he was struck in the side, but the others remained unharmed. They too had arrived with spells on their lips, and Harry and his group were forced to shield themselves hurriedly or dive for cover.
“Shite,” Blankenship yelped as a cutting curse grazed his face. “There’s cover in the back.”
Harry, Bones, Proudfoot, and Blankenship stepped quickly backwards, raising shields and throwing spells at the Death Eaters as they tried to reach the heavy furniture in the rear of the room. The Death Eater Harry had injured fell almost immediately as another severing curse struck him in the chest.
Bones turned over a table in the rear of the room and transfigured it into marble while her Aurors returned fire. “Find cover!” she roared, hoping to regroup and take out their opponents without ordering a retreat to Bones Manor.
Harry moved toward the downed table, shielding himself as he went. A thick red curse surged over his shoulder and exploded loudly against the rear wall. His back was showered in shrapnel and debris, and the shock of it forced him to his knees and left his ears ringing.
Knowing he was badly vulnerable in the open, Harry raised a fortus aegis shield and struggled to his feet. The Death Eaters were spread out in a nearly solid line on the other side of the room. He distantly noted that Beta had just surged into the room to engage the Death Eaters.
“Avada Kedavra!”
“Potter!” he heard a voice shout, and felt himself forcefully tackled to the ground.
When he regained his senses, he found himself unable to move. Auror Blankenship was lying face-down on top of him. Harry yelled in panic, but Blankenship did not respond.
One look at Blankenship’s face told him all he needed to know. The Auror had taken a killing curse meant for him.
He stared in horror into Blankenship’s unseeing eyes, the man’s full weight still pinning him to the ground. He forgot almost completely about the battle raging around him. He saw only the dead blue eyes of Blankenship.
Benny, Harry thought distractedly. That’s what Tonks said his name was. I’ve barely spoken to the man, and he sacrificed himself to save me.
Harry’s reverie was interrupted harshly when a spell ripped into Benny Blankenship’s unmoving back. A splash of blood struck Harry in the face, waking him from his stupor. He looked up to see Bellatrix Lestrange smiling at him from ten feet away, nimbly dodging stray curses that were sent her way.
“Potter, use your portkey!” Bones screamed, but Harry wasn’t listening to her. He was staring at the obscenely gloating face of the witch in front of him.
“Does ickle baby Potter not like this game? Maybe he should stick to games for little boys,” she cooed maliciously.
Something about Lestrange’s baby talk infuriated Harry beyond all measure. Ignoring the spells flying through the air around him, he focused on one thing only. This bitch was about to die.
He pushed hard and rolled quickly out from underneath Blankenship’s body, careful to cover himself with a shield as he moved. A killing curse sped through the air behind him, and a cutting curse tore into his shield, but Harry barely noticed.
He thrust his wand at a Death Eater in his peripheral vision, and the masked man fell as a piercing curse struck him between the eyes. Harry could hear Bones screaming at the Aurors to move forward, but his eyes never left Bellatrix Lestrange.
He leveled two chest-high reductors at the female Death Eater, forcing her to dodge to her right. He followed with a pair of silent cutters before she could respond.
The first spell was absorbed by a hasty shield, but the second nearly took off her head. Only a desperate movement of her neck saved her life. The spell impacted against her right cheek and opened up a bloody gash clear to the bone.
Bellatrix screamed in anger and disbelief. “Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!”
Her killing curses were fast and accurate, and Harry was forced to dive to the ground. He hastily levitated a chunk of debris before him, which absorbed yet another killing curse from the furious witch.
A blasting curse from another Death Eater forced Harry to raise a desperate shield, but he was gratified when a cutting curse from Proudfoot sliced the man’s head clean off his body.
He heard Bellatrix shout that Dumbledore had arrived, and out of the corner of his eye he saw several massive wolves bound into the Death Eater ranks.
His attention did not leave Bellatrix. Harry rose to one knee and focused all of his attention on spell-chaining. Moving his wand quickly, he cast uninterrupted sequences of blasting and cutting curses at the woman, heedless of the opening it gave other attackers.
Bellatrix’s eyes widened as one spell after another rocketed towards her at lethal speeds. The first spell she dodged, the second she deflected, but the third collapsed her shield and sent her reeling backwards. She regained her footing only to lose it again instantly when a blasting curse sailed within an inch of her head. Falling gracelessly on her arse, her hasty shield buckled when a vicious cutting curse struck it. Most of the curse pierced the shield, opening a massive gash in her abdomen and spilling her blood on the stone floor.
She rolled quickly to her right, grimacing in agony and grasping for a medallion around her neck as yet another of Harry’s blasting curses nearly took off her head.
“Retreat!” she yelled frantically, just before her bleeding form was whisked away by an emergency portkey. The space she had just occupied exploded in stone shrapnel milliseconds after she left. A stunner and two other blasting curses had joined Harry’s, creating a massive crater in the stone floor. After a few seconds of groaning, that section of the floor collapsed into the first story of the building.
“You bitch!” Harry yelled at the top of his lungs, incensed that his prey had escaped him. He was breathing heavily and bleeding from his head, unaware that he had been struck by shrapnel during the fight.
Aware of the sudden silence around him, and cursing himself for losing his head, Harry looked around warily, his wand poised for action. There were downed wizards everywhere, though it was immediately clear that his side had won this fight.
Proudfoot and McMurphy were staring at the spot Bellatrix had just left, both of them nearly as angry as Harry. Dumbledore too was looking at the spot, his wand still extended. Bones was casting incarcerous spells around unconscious Death Eaters, though only a handful were still alive. The room was now crowded with the remaining members of Alpha, Beta, and Charlie teams.
Proudfoot’s quick headcount revealed that only Blankenship had been killed, though three other Aurors were seriously wounded. He gave them a quick once-over before activating their portkeys to Bones Manor. He paused before the prone form of Blankenship to close his eyes, then did the same for him.
“We came here to do a job, so let’s do it,” said Bones, bringing everyone out of their post-battle stupor. “McMurphy, finish our own wards and I will address the people as planned. We will not need more than 15 minutes to get the message across. Then we are going to destroy this accursed building on the way out. If we can’t hold it, we’re going to torch it.”
McMurphy and another Auror rushed to obey. Harry watched as Dumbledore moved to the blown-out door and warded it against any entrance or exit. His adrenalin was still pumping, and he was enraged at Bellatrix Lestrange’s escape and Blankenship’s sacrifice. His life had come at the cost of someone else’s, and he felt nothing but rage and shame.
He watched Dumbledore warily, his temper on a hair-trigger and wanting desperately to unleash his rage at his tormentor. He was aware of Dumbledore’s oath, and had promised Bones and Croaker not to attack the Headmaster. But he had not expected to be in such close proximity to the man who ruined his life. He had sworn to kill Dumbledore for what he had done, and he still meant it.
Dumbledore finished his warding and crossed his arms. His eyes traveled to Harry’s, and Harry met his gaze defiantly. The two stared each other down for several seconds, each unwilling to avert his gaze. Dumbledore did not bother with his grandfatherly twinkle. Eventually he looked away, and Harry finally did the same.
Both listened impassively as Madam Bones made her address to the people of magical Britain. As an upright and respected former Director of the DMLE, she had not been subjected to years of vicious smear campaigns and gossip. She felt it best that she, rather than Dumbledore, address the people.
Harry caught snatches of certain phrases—“Ministry propaganda,” “Dark Lord in control,” “go into hiding”—but his mind was not on her speech. He was thinking of Benny Blankenship. The man appeared to be in his late 20s. Did he have a wife? Children? How could he face them and explain what happened?
The pace of the war, even though it had barely begun, was wearing heavily on Harry. His “training” missions were happening daily and becoming increasingly violent. Tonight’s raid brought the stakes of the war newly home to him.
He tried his best to close off his emotions as Bones wound down. He heard her suggest that those without suitable hiding places seek refuge at Hogwarts, and then she gave her dramatic finale.
“I, Amelia Susan Bones, swear on my life and my magic that what I have just told you is the truth. The Ministry has betrayed us and the Dark Lord seeks to destroy us. We must resist them with everything in our power. Thank you, and may Merlin bless our efforts.”
“Right,” said Bones as she turned around. “Let’s get out of this damned place. We won’t allow the Ministry to use it any further against us. If we need to, we’ll find a way to set up our own signal. I am authorizing fiendfyre, gentlemen. Turn it into ash.”
Fives minutes later, Harry watched as horrific looking creatures of flame devoured the wizarding wireless building. They were controlled by five Aurors, who did not cease their efforts until the building was ablaze in a magnificent light. They did not stop even when the upper floor and tower collapsed. Harry was strangely cheered by the heat and the devastation. It matched his mood perfectly.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: There you have it. Dumbledore gets a leash, and Harry gets his first kiss. It wasn’t much of a kiss, I know, but this is Harry we’re talking about. Next chapter, Parvati tries to help Harry deal with Blankenship’s death, the twins lend a hand at Hogwarts, and Lucius Malfoy is ready to pull his coiffed golden locks out as his Master prepares for a major confrontation.
Special thanks to Vikingfn0926, BennyS, and Voice of the Nephilim for their valuable feedback on the outline.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!