章 334: 23
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It is a good day to be a Hogwartian.
Is that really a word?
It is now.
So!
Our group has been established with the help of Professor Binns. "Help" of professor Binns, because I bribed him.
How?
A complete and annotated set of some books on Goblins and their interactions with the magical society at large. Three sets, actually, written by different groups with different viewpoints. Given that Binns is a history teacher (albeit a dead one) I figured that he would appreciate having the material.
…to be honest I don't really know if he realizes what I asked him to do.
Either way, we have our group and it's…about as formal as we can get considering the circumstances.
Of course the next day Umbridge establishes the Inquisitorial Squad and puts Malfoy at its head. Surprisingly she didn't seem too happy with her choice, which leads me to think that this was done for the sake of currying favors rather than any leverage at Hogwarts.
Maybe she thinks she can't control Draco?
Could be. I mean, canonically the dude practically salivated at the idea of having an anti-ministry weapon near the end of the book.
For now the Inquisitorial Squad doesn't do anything beyond making sure that clubs are following the rules. Again, for a given definition of following.
In our case, I had it declared that our current project is to study the "dueling techniques of secondary and tertiary magical civilizations" and, more controversially, invited some Inquisition!Slytherins to participate.
Why?
…To be honest? Because I feel like it's a bit hypocritical of us to cry at how unfair prejudice is while we…y'know, do the same to the Slytherins. Whatever happens later can happen later, it's just…I don't want to avoid teaching someone just because they could possibly be dangerous. It's better to try and make them not-dangerous instead.
I mean, if the entire point of the Voldemort backstory is that he's not loved, then…we should…I dunno, do that. To people. We should love them.
Was that why you kept trying to magically fly a brick up Malfoy's asshole?
That was an accident.
Anyways!
To clarify: the inquisitorial squad does not like us. They still don't like us, but because we've made them party to the plot (because they're still human above all else and like doing fun shit) they are therefore less hostile to our presence. We built an outdoors obstacle course that we invited them to, so that the actual meeting place—the Room of Requirement—is not compromised.
*Slightly* less hostile. They'll still try and screw us if given the chance, but they're not actively looking for a reason or anything.
…
[Quidditch]
I fully admit I have paid no attention to this topic.
Ron's a keeper, they played a game, Malfoy was unnecessarily hostile, insults were thrown around…
…but Fred, George, and Harry stay their hand. They walk away from the fight that Malfoy was trying to pick in favor of keeping up Ron's spirits.
Incidentally and in no way our fault, the grass around Malfoy's feet was unusually slippery that day, and he may have fallen over multiple times in shame and disgrace in full view of the entire school populace.
…
[Hagrid]
Hagrid came back from being in the mountains or something. Again, not something I was there for so I'm working with canonical knowledge and Harry's storytelling…and Sirius.
Our flying America Van is silent (don't remember when it happened) so Sirius just flies it in every weekend and has lunch with his Godson (while passing me anything muggle I ask for). Suffice to say this scares a few people, but after three such lunches people get used to it…it helps that our Sirius, no longer bound by a criminal record and cleaned the fuck up, is extremely charming. Like, I know I'm constantly harping this point, but Sirius does not look after himself.
The reason why he can do this (without getting mauled by McGonagall) is so that he can also pass information to her and Dumbledore as necessary.
…Though, after watching him develop rapport with the kids…it's very clear that, every so often, there's a small stutter in the pacing of his dialogues, like he was waiting for someone else to speak.
…Anyways, Hagrid's been dealing with the mountain giants to try and, if not necessarily get their support, then at least keep them neutral. According to Sirius it went about as well as it could, and apparently Hagrid did not leave alone.
Which means we're gonna have to worry about Grawp at some point. I don't want to worry about Grawp at some point.
…
[The Snake]
…
One day, near Christmas, Harry dragged Ron out of the dorms, screaming about a snake attack or something. Harry did not try to wake me, and apparently I slept through his screaming. Fortunately, Arthur survived the snake bite.
The next time we see Sirius we corner him.
I'm leery of making my point known while at the school so I've given him a letter, but in a nutshell I wanted to know WHY THE FUCK DID DUMBLEDORE AGREE TO THE SHITTIEST GUARD JOB PLAN IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND.
…
[Christmas]
…
Which leads to…now.
"Professors, a moment?" I say lightly to McGonagall and Dumbledore, as everyone else is preparing muggle clothing for their trip to the Magical Hospital. There is a note of venom in my voice.
"This is quite rare." Dumbledore replies with a twinkle, and politely sits down at Grimmauld Place's well-lit dining room. "Yes, Ash?"
Deep breath. "I apologize in advance for my tone, but what in the nine hells were you thinking?!" It did not work. I'm angry. Ever since I learned about this, I've been angry. I'm pretty good at hiding my anger, until I stop being good at it. I like Arthur. Dude's cool. I don't like the idea of him dying.
"Ash!" McGonagall says in warning.
I ignore her. "I'm not going to question why you had to assign a guard or for what reason, but did you really think that assigning a lone person IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT with zero support was the best thing to do?!"
"Sadly, yes." Dumbledore sighs. "Without answering why I had to assign a guard or what Arthur was tasked to protect, please understand that our available options were limited." He at least has the sense to look sorry.
That said. "I fail to see how assigning someone so very clearly affiliated with the Order to guard duty would fail to arouse suspicion. Let's say, for the sake of argument, that Voldefuck decides to mount a full-scale assault on the night that Arthur got attacked. How long would he have stopped them, and how long would it have been before we realized it?"
I'm genuinely curious about this. I think Mundungus Fletcher the Eternally Spineless Shithead would be there too, but he runs away at the drop of a hat. Had Voldemort hit the Ministry on Christmas, we'd have a dead Arthur and literally nothing to show for it.
"Arthur is skilled, so I'm sure he would've been able to get away, at least." Sirius says, just walking in. "Molly already tore Dumbledore a new one, Ash, so take it easy, alright?"
I sigh. "Again, I'm sorry for how I'm going to sound, but sir, when manpower is a premium the absolute last thing you want to do is to squander it."
"That is a bit callous." McGonagall reprimands. "Mister Weasley is not a number to be measured with a term like 'manpower'."
Yeah? "That explains why he was given the role of a canary."
"Arthur's posting was a temporary measure." Dumbledore explains gently. "I had originally intended for his—and other guards' role to last for a month at most. After that time the enchantments would have been in place."
SIR YOU ARE EIGHTY YEARS OLD "Why the hell did you post a guard in the first place?! How long would it have taken to enchant a goddamn TIN CAN to rattle when someone stepped on it?! Just put a piece of cloth and make it invisible or something! Jesus Christ!"
My anger is getting the better of me.
"There was like a million other things you could have done without putting someone's life in danger and ALL OF IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN WHAT YOU CHOSE TO DO!"
Our yelling gets the attention of the rest of the house.
"Ash, that's enough." Lupin warns. "There's nothing to be gained by venting at the Headmaster."
"I feel better." I growl. "Fucking hell."
"Moony's right, man." Sirius claps me on the shoulder. "Arthur lived, didn't he? Calm down a little."
Lived. Lived thanks to a fluke of flukes. "Right." I take a deep breath and bruise my fist on the wall on my way out.
With our argument on standby, we make our way to Saint Mungo's muggle entrance.
"Ash, I'm curious." Hermione says. "What did you mean when you suggested that he shouldn't have posted a guard?"
"Whatever Arthur's defending, it was worth risking his life for." Molly says, though she doesn't quite believe it.
Hmm. "I don't have a problem with Arthur's conviction, I'm just deeply disappointed that he was placed so badly. Again, take a moment and walk through the alternate series of events. Arthur gets attacked and potentially dies, and we don't learn about it until the next day. Then what?"
Uncomfortable pause.
So I get to press on. "If that had happened, all we would have known would be that Arthur died to protect something. If the Headmaster chose not to tell us then, literally, the only thing we would know would be that Arthur died in the line of duty, which would have done absolutely nothing to change the balance of power in our favor."
"I uh…" Ron says slowly. I think he's a little lost.
"That's…true." Hermione says slowly. "From Dumbledore's perspective, the only thing that Mister Weasley's death would prove is that You-Know-Who wanted something in that section of the Ministry."
Note that we are still walking in broad daylight.
Good that she caught on. "Right, and he wouldn't have assigned a guard if he didn't have a reason to believe that Vol-er, Tom, wanted something from that section of the ministry."
"That's insane." George says in disbelief. "That's…wasteful!"
"But um…" Ron says slowly. "We would find out, right?"
"Yeah, but if Tom's snake was detected in the ministry, the best case scenario that would come to pass would be that the ministry takes his revival seriously." Which they're kind of doing. Again, thanks to my meddling the ministry is mobilizing against Voldemort a year ahead of schedule, but they're doing it in a scaled-down manner to avoid drawing too much suspicion…and thus destroying Fudge's credibility.
…If Dumbledore's reason for setting Arthur as a guard was just to confirm if Tom is going after something in the Ministry then I'm going to cave in his fucking shins.
"By the way, why are you carrying books with you at this hour?" Fred asks of our bundle of three hefty-looking textbooks.
"They looked interesting." I say in total honesty. I have never read any of these three books. They're bundled in gift-wrap, so I'm obviously going to give these to someone.
After some more time of walking, we arrive at the entrance to Saint Mungo's and make our way in.
We go up to Arthur's room, where he predictably gets into trouble because he tried to have his wound stitched up.
"Ash! Stitching is a good means of healing, right?" Upon the revelation, he tries to get some help so Molly doesn't end his barely-saved life.
"Yes. Ash. Tell us." Molly…commands me through gritted teeth.
Please don't hurt me. "Muggles don't have magic healing." I say as calmly as I can because I cannot leave the room before Molly explodes. "So everything they do is to help the human body heal faster. If there is a next time then pleasetellthehealertocleanthewoundbeforehetriestostitchitupBYE!"
Our sentence went progressively faster as we edged towards the room exit.
I barely got away. Barely.
…
Of course, the other thing…
We, along with the rest of the party, loiter around the hospital. After a fashion, we stumble upon Neville and, subsequently, his parents.
Um…
I…
I've never really been close to someone who's like, mentally shattered. I don't think many of us have.
I…
It's hard to describe.
I don't know if I'm reaching or not, but it feels like the two of them give off an incredible aura of…like…they want, desperately, to say something, to do something, but they can't.
It…I don't know. I don't know.
We hang back as the kids leave.
"Excuse me." I get the attention of the healer in charge of the Longbottom parents.
"Yes, can I help you?" She says, sounding quite tired.
"I don't know how much this will help." I say and offer up the three books. "These are the best books on the muggle understanding of how the nervous system works." The best that money can buy, which…honestly, isn't saying much.
She looks at us with confusion.
"The central nervous system is…well, I think it could be useful with regards to damage caused by things like the Cruciatus Curse. So…here." I give her the books. "Maybe it will do some good."
"I see. Thank you." She says sincerely, though I get the impression she's reluctant to try.
…Well, if it doesn't pan out then it doesn't pan out.
…
The rest of our Christmas went without further fanfare. The Weasleys (Molly especially) made near daily visits to the hospital until he was discharged. Harry went with them because family.
We on the other hand spent Christmas half lazing about, half training with Sirius. It was…not as fun as it could have been, since Arthur's injury made it clear that we're not doing this for the amusement value.
I also left them a cache of our beloved Ak-47s and ammunition. Towards the end of the New Year I also went back to the States and, with my mountains upon mountains of ill-gotten money, 'diverted' a shipment of firearms to a nondescript warehouse somewhere in Virginia.
I then purchased an old boxcar—the one trains use to carry cargo—from Russia. I then had Sirius enchant it to fly because Why Not™ and long story short we (technically I) now have a flying arsenal. The boxcar is enchanted to be bigger on the inside, and is armed with about a hundred guns (not counting our Aks) and crates upon crates of ammunition.
…The twins once bewitched a snowball to follow Quirrell around back during year one, no? Can I do that with guns? Hmm.
…
With that, we go into the latter half of the school year.
Lessee.
Class-wise…the rest of the year goes by without further news or strange incidents.
Training-wise…the entirety of the DA—erm, The Research Group—gets better. They can hold their own fairly well in one-on-one fights (to the point where I have to concede defeat more often than not) and have some pretty basic team tactics drilled into them.
The main and sub trios (Harry/Ron/Hermy and Neville/Ginny/Luna) have very good rapport with each other and as a result are seriously bullshit when working together. We've done some group based training and those three-man-teams are utterly broken in terms of their flexibility.
Either way, training is going good.
…
[Our Preparations from January to June]
Since I know (or expect) a fight to happen soon, I've been ramping up my preparations for war. It's…cut into my school time, I'll say that much.
Muggle-wise, I've been doing strength training and cardio. Have to keep light on my feet, and all that.
Magic-wise, I've been imbibing high-octane fuckery. I don't know how much I'll use against Tom when the time comes, especially since this might not be the final fight.
So…first thing first, the upgrades. I said last time that Wind of Sleep is now invisible and silent. I've been experimenting with the magic behind portkeys and…I think I have a decent control over it.
In a nutshell, the spell base is a trigger-activated transportation kind that transfers an object from point A to point B. Portkeys transfer "A Magically Active Human" to the destination at a Predetermined Time, while…uh…Teleporting…what's it called? I can't remember right now. Either way, That, is transferring "Caster" to the destination "now".
In other words, Apparating is basically portkey magic, but insta-cast.
To wit.
While I can't make a real portkey—magic cost is too high and the spell is too complex—I can transfer small amounts of stuff from point A to point B. This means that, for starters, my Wind of Sleep spell is effectively now a delayed spell, where I can transfer a tiny marker into someone's nose, where it will stay receptive for a full minute before I transfer my massive hammer of drugs to the target, which invariably will end up in their lungs.
…Coincidentally this also means that this Wind of Sleep is actually fatal to use. The only mages that have a full understanding of the human body are the ones who work with muggle healthcare service providers, or the ones that are dedicated healers, and so if a mage gets liquid into their lungs then they're in a ton of trouble.
So as a result, this…I'm gonna call it a Dimensional Spike since that's kind of what it's doing. Because there is no limitation on what I can send into the human body, and because the marker is, in effect, a puff of magically-charged air that is almost guaranteed to end up in the lungs for a while. My transfer limit is about five grams of material.
I can do some seriously fucked up shit with four grams of material and one gram of the marker air. During testing (with balloons) I can chain cast this spell about ten times before I lose concentration. Last I checked, not many people can live through water-clogged lungs, or, y'know, forty grams of…anything, actually. Steel dust, for example.
So…yeah, Dimensional Spike took most of my time.
The oft neglected Prismatic Beam, because it turned out to be inefficient compared to the silent killing power of the previous spell, has gotten a makeover too. From a power perspective it hasn't changed any, but I've managed to fully transfer the beam's power into some secondary source without discharging it. This means I can now bend the beam as necessary, or else overlap multiples for a stronger blast. Again, this is more of an academic exercise because, if we ignore the inefficiency, the power of the spell is too high to use in environments where it's possible to hit allies.
McGonagall also taught me true independent homing (the kind the twins used on Quirrell) after I brought up the subject, so my Avis birds are almost-independent. I say 'almost' because I still need to give them a target. The limitation of the spell was that you needed to maintain visual contact with the target in order for the spell's recipients (say, birds) to know where to go.
…Which, of course, is unacceptable, so I modified it to work with the Spike's marker. The tradeoff is the spell is now more expensive to use due to its complexity…and my desire for badass face-eating stone birds means that they're practically three times as expensive as the normal spell to use.
That said, the birds created through Avis and given mobility with this spell are seriously terrifying. The marker, being a puff of air, has a tendency to disperse. If I miss with it, it disperses around a person and kinda…collects…on their being. Which means that the stone birds, which hurt pretty bad if they make contact, are now making contact with your entire body over and over again. They seem to have an odd liking to striking at the groin area, which is a little weird.
We tested it on a straw dummy.
But just having the birds hit people isn't enough, so I've enchanted the birds with the fire-making charm (Incendio) because Fuck You That's Why. Originally I wanted them to shoot the Prismatic Beams in some way, but the power wasn't there…which meant that I needed to improvise.
Remember that the only reason Prismatic Beam works in the first place is because I'm juicing the spell with an array of car batteries.
Long story short the birds are now made with batteries. Power-wise it's still impractical to try and get them to use the beam, but their fire charm now burns like a motherfucker. As an added bonus, the birds also act as prismatic relays for the beam itself, so I can fire the beam at the bird and have it refract towards its flying target without losing power.
…Well, putting aside the theory-crafting, during practice there were issues that needed to be ironed out, so the odds of me using these things properly during a fight is pretty low.
These spells were fully finished in April.
…
[Harry's Occlumency Lessons]
Oh fuck this is a train wreck.
Severus's method of training is actually not that different from normal Hogwarts teaching methodology, where they tell you the bare minimum of what to do and then just kind of toss you into the deep end and let you figure it out on your own. The problem is that the two of them have such bad blood that Harry is just not focusing enough on the attempt to do the thing.
This is actually a big problem ("Problem") when it comes to high-level spells. There isn't a lot of documentation, therefore anybody looking to learn it really has no choice but to just try and figure it out on their own. Most wizards end up specializing in one or two of those spells at best, which would make their reputation. In that sense, Dumbledore and Tom are very great people…I think. Too much hearsay to make a well-informed decision.
High-level spells tend to be passive in the first place, so they're pretty hard to see in action. For reference, mind-reading is not a high-level spell (just a tough one), but the ability to block it is.
Either way, Harry eventually took a third option and just started to reflexively disarm Severus every time he felt a probe into his mind. Because Harry is so freakishly good at disarming, the mind-reading doesn't even have the time to take hold before Sev gets his wand blasted out of his hand.
…Which is kinda bad, because it means that Harry isn't really learning.
"Harry for fuck's sake just focus on stopping Snape from getting into your head!" I yell at him during one practice session. "Whether if he likes you or not is a bit of a nonfactor."
"I know that!" Harry snaps back. "I'm trying, goddammit!"
"Language, Mister Potter." Snape chides him.
So how are we at this whole Occlumency thing?
Ahahaha we're terrible at it.
On a fundamental level, Occlumency is first and foremost a check on power. So…let's use some numbers, because Harry really is a special case.
In general, a Legilimens has a 50/50 chance of penetrating the mind of an Occlumens of equal skill, with the rate of success increasing (or decreasing) as the skill discrepancy gets wider. Skill aside, there's also the issue of innate power…a stronger mage would be either a better reader or a better blocker, depending on circumstance. What this means is that, in most instances, a Legilimens, no matter how skilled, will only be asymptotically close to a 100% success rate.
The first exception is when there exists a huge power discrepancy. When the reader is way stronger than the blocker, the blocker won't even realize that their mind is being read…assuming that, y'know, they don't make eye contact or fail to hear the spell being cast. This is what's going on with me and Snape, as he's stronger than me by a wide enough margin that, if I ignore the fact that he's casting the spell, I don't realize he's reading my mind at all.
Also? The idea of 'thinking random thoughts' as an effective means of Occlumency is useless, because the person doing the reading can see that you're, y'know, thinking random thoughts, so they can just ignore the chaff they're seeing. So no nyancat defense, in other words.
The other exception, of course, is the Harry-Tom scar/soul connection. I'm guessing here, but I assume that the connection ensures that the two of them basically have an always-succeed Legilimens connection unless the other party chooses to block, and then we go into the skill check. The assumption we're all making here, then, is that while defending, the party doing the defending does so with the combined power of the entire network.
Which, again, questions why Harry is so bad at it.
As far as Occlumency itself…again, there exists no documentation for high-difficulty spells, so I'm piecing together what I'm learning based on Snape and Harry's interactions.
It's basically a matter of willpower. A Legilimens…dives into your head? Or something? Um…A Legilimens basically pulls out your memories in a mishmash kind of way, and then waits for you the victim to link together the memories in a coherent way. In that respect, a skilled reader can make you connect those memories without you realizing (or at least with no way to really stop it) or else then connect those memories coherently with minimal input from you, the victim.
So likewise, Occlumency is the ability to protect yourself through either a) not connecting those memories, or b) preventing the outsider from coming in at all, or else c) providing a false positive for the outsider to read and utilize. Option c is me metagaming a little with the canon knowledge (the end of book five, basically), and I don't know how relevant it is to the field as a whole.
Now, this sounds pretty reasonable, right? Well, first off, you can't plan your defense, because the instant you do your defense fails. There are a lot of reasons for why Occlumency fails (and definitely more reasons than I can reasonably gather with my few hours of observation) but the overarching theme seems to be "you can't be reasonable".
By which I mean, if you make a conscious effort to throw up defenses against a reader, a skilled reader (like, say, Snape) will be able to use your own defenses against you. I don't have better information than this, sadly, so I can't say for sure how it works or how it doesn't.
So…yes. It's a pretty tough field to learn, to say nothing of mastering it.
Ultimately Harry makes preciously little progress.
We learn second-hand from Sirius that Harry discovered the little shits that were James and Sirius back in their teenager days.
Oh right, because of Harry's counterspell.
Harry is pissed that his parents weren't as angelic as people made them out to be.
"Harry, kids are dumb little shits." I say blithely one day (when Harry brought this up with the Trio and Us). "Are you really surprised by this?"
"I'm just mad nobody told me." He says.
"We're kids too." Ron adds.
"Ok, but just keep things in context." I say. "Remember that time where you literally sent Draco to the hospital?"
"…Fair point." Harry grouses.
Now I'm just being mean. "Remember that time where you went chasing after Quirrell in a one-way hallway where he would have to come back out the exact same way regardless of if he succeeded or failed?"
Harry rolls his eyes as the other two chuckles.
"Remember how you could have just sat down and failed every task in the Triwizard Tournament and gotten like zero points but would have otherwise been ok?"
"Alright, that's just not fair." Harry says, laughing. "I get it, though."
"Good." I grin. "Celebrate the fact that your dad was a little douche, because at the very least it meant that he was worth remembering. Everybody says good things about dead people, so be glad that you can see your dad as a person rather than a story."
…
[Divinations]
…
Since the rift between the Ministry and Hogwarts is a lot smaller than canon, Trelawney doesn't get publicly thrown out of the school. She does, however, still lose her job, and get replaced (much to Umbridge's shock) by Firenze the Centaur.
So basically like canon but without the fanfare.
We don't seem to care all that much.
No, not really. Trelawney is an important historical figure within the context of the prophecies that she has made, but I'm with Umbridge's assessment that she's a pitifully poor teacher. I'm all for electives, but…yeah. She's just not good at it.
Firenze is arguably better only by virtue of being upfront about Divination's success rate.
…
[Career Advice]
…
Nothing special happens here, since Umbridge isn't trying to overexert her authority.
Harry gets recommended to the Auror career path because of his talent and experience. Hell, everybody belonging to the Research Society gets recommended the Auror career path.
And what about us?
After I deal with Voldemort, I'm going back home to the States. There, I will create my own little club, and then do rampantly unfair things with magic. It'll be fun.
…
[OWLs]
…
Uh…I really haven't prepared for my exams, I'm not gonna lie.
So…I'm just a wee bit fucked in this case.
Then again, I'm rich to the point of absurdity and am definitely unscrupulous enough to steal, so I'm not really worried about my ability to survive in the future.
…
[Endgame]
…
Come June, I get pulled away by Sirius to plan an end-of-exam party for Harry. It's a mix work by Molly, Sirius, and Hermione's parents, who I insisted on including in the celebrations because it's unfair that they get the short end of every stick.
It's a secret, so I'm keeping it hush-hush. We (I) rented a nice little place out in Sicily. Molly's gone ahead of time to kind of prepare it for the week of vacation that's in the cards, and it's going to be a fun time. The Granger parents have been given plane tickets (along with Hermy because c'mon they have to travel as a family) and everybody else will arrive via Flying America Van, because of course they will.
Because I'm keeping it a secret, I didn't tell Harry.
…So…yes. I fucked up.
…
[Earlier This Morning, 3rd Person Camera]
…
Harry wakes up with a jolt. He sits for a moment, collecting his breath, before jumping out of bed. "Ron, Ron, wake up." He says, shaking his best friend.
"What's going on?" Ron says groggily. "What happened?"
"I think I know why Ash has been going missing every other day." Harry says quickly. "It's Voldemort. He's doing it."
Ron stares beadily at Harry for a moment before dropping back into bed. "You're being paranoid, Harry." He sighs.
"I could be." Harry admits. "But if I'm right, then we're in a lot of trouble." He sees Ron fail to react and gets more irritated. "I think Ash has been imperioused."
"Has he really?" Ron yawns. "Why are we all still alive then?"
"I think Voldemort wants something from the Department of Mysteries, and he's using Ash to get it." Harry says. "You know how resourceful he is."
"…Yeah?" Ron's still sleepy and isn't quite connecting the dots.
"I saw him in the Department of Mysteries in my head." Harry says firmly. "He's there, with Voldemort. Right now. We need to go help him."
"Mate…" Ron scratches his head. "You really think Ash of all people would get captured?"
"Yes!" Harry practically yells. "You know what he always says: all it takes is one failure."
"That's true." Ron nods slowly, remembering the most recent sparring matches they had in the research club. "Can you call Sirius with that mirror of yours?"
"He doesn't know." Harry says quickly. Sirius, party to Ash's plot of the vacation house, was playing dumb at the worst possible time.
"Alright." Ron nods. "Should we call everyone?"
"Yes." Harry takes the coin that Hermione made as a 'commemorative token' of their club and presses the panic button.
…
Ten minutes later, the eight staunchest members of the Research Club meet at the Room of Requirement. (Roster: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Fred, George)
"What's the rush?" Fred asks.
Harry quickly explains his theory that Ash was currently being controlled for access into the Department of Mysteries.
"If anybody can figure out how to get in, it would be him." George admits. "Shit. Are we heading out now?"
"We should talk to McGonagall." Hermione cautions. "Harry, you're supposed to be able to block out those thoughts, and you don't even know if it's true or not!"
"I know that." Harry snaps. "If I'm wrong, this'll just be a dumb story to tell later. But if I'm right, then he's in danger of being killed right now."
"I'm in." Fred puts a bandolier of small potions around his torso. "If he's in trouble, then we're going to bail him out."
"Damn straight." George does the same. "Feet first into hell, and all that."
"How will we get there?" Ginny asks. "And yes, I'm going too." She snaps before the rest of the Weasleys could stop her.
"You two could apparate us." Ron offers to Fred and George.
The twins shake their heads in unison. "We'll splinch with this many people." Fred says.
"We'll use the Threstrals." Harry says quickly, wishing for the Room of Requirement to have an immediate access to the main entrance of the school. "We'll fly there and there are enough for all of us." A tunnel appears from nowhere. "Come on."
…
Ash, who had spent the night out in Italy because the commute back to England would take too long, returns to Hogwarts about an hour after Harry had left.
"Ash!" The Little Ravenclaw Girl calls to him as he enters the main hall. She beckons to him and tucks him over to a quiet corner.
"What's going on?" He asks, a bit weirded out by all this.
"Harry Potter left the school to find you." She says quickly. "He said something about the Department of Mysteries."
Ash's response was one of dawning comprehension, followed by an expression of 'oh I fucked up'.
"Ok." He nods. "Mother of fucker." He says to himself. "Ok. Ok. Shit. Ok. Uh…alright. Thank you." He gives the girl a distracted pat on the head before bolting for the Chamber of Secrets with the girl in tow.
…
[Now, 1st Person Camera]
…
I'm happy that he's willing to jump into a tiger den for my sake, but I would rather that he just stayed home.
What's in the Chamber of Secrets?
The old Soviet Tank I purchased. It flies.
From somewhere in the Chamber's entrance, we hear a girl go "Whoa, what is this place?"
Oh for fuck's sake she followed us didn't she
She did.
I run back to the entrance. "This is my base, ok?" I say quickly. "But that's not important. I need you to go find McGonagall and Dumbledore and tell them that Harry's going to the Ministry of Magic."
"O…ok." She nods.
"Alternatively, find Umbridge and tell her that code black is in effect." I say. "You don't have to answer any other questions she has."
She nods again. "But…what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to rally some troops." I say quickly.
"Can I go with you?" She asks. I think she missed Harry's earlier troop call.
As much as I'd like to have a fighting partner, "I need you in this school." I'm chewing time trying to convince her, so I won't bother.
We give Little Ravenclaw Girl a quick hug and then bolt back to our tank.
I thought about chasing down Harry first, but I don't know if he's being monitored while in flight, and there are just far too many variables for me to go after him without ample backup. Alright, let's get this going.
We take our tank out into the air without so much as a backwards glance.
As soon as I've cleared Hogwarts airspace, I use the tank's phone and dial for Sirius. Of course I had a phone installed, why wouldn't I?
The phone sends a magic signal that splices into muggle phone lines to work.
"Sirius Black here, how can I bless your day?" Sirius says jovially, using one of his many practiced lines I don't have the time for this
"Sirius, Harry's going over to the Department of Mysteries." I say quickly. "Muster and arm up."
"What? Why?" He asks, his jovial tone completely gone. "Is this why Albus had him learn Occlumency?"
"I think so." I reply. "I don't know what Tom's got in store for Harry, so we're going in guns blazing."
"Gotcha." Sirius says, and then hangs up.
He calls a moment later, after he's teleported back to Grimmauld Place (I assume) and we begin planning out tactics.
The tank, enchanted to be fast as fuck™, arrives outside London an hour and forty five minutes after leaving Hogwarts. I think I'm still behind by 45 minutes though, so here's hoping that everything goes fine.
Sirius had taken the Boxcar of War out of the city so we can properly gear up before heading in.
My team consists of: Me, Sirius, Lupin, and Arthur.
"Are you sure about this?" Arthur asks quickly. "Harry's cleverer than just a ruse."
"He is, but unfortunately he's remarkably easy to trap." I say. "Just threaten his friends and he goes off the deep end."
I slide racks of muggle weaponry out into the open and start gearing up. I have: one shotgun, one assault rifle, one pistol, a few spare magazines of ammo, my wand, and four suits of cards. This is in addition to my utility belt of pure alcohol and car batteries.
Ok. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
"What are you doing?" Lupin asks.
"I'm preparing myself." I say, taking more deep breaths.
I am going into combat.
I am making the conscious decision to take a life. I am going to kill.
Regardless of the moral alignment of my enemies, the fact remains that I am going to kill.
This is not a fatal act of self-defense. This is going to be an act of fatal aggression.
…deep breaths.
.
.
.
{ === + === }
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