Chapter Nineteen: A Choice Between What is Right and What is Easy
They went back to the castle to talk.
"Of course they've taken her to Durmstrang. It's been their base for over two years. Everyone here knows that," Harry shouted at Dumbledore as McGonagall, Remus and Tonks looked on in a slight bit of awe.
"Very well, Harry, let us say, for a moment, that you are right, and you probably are," Dumbledore said calmly. "How do we get in? How many Death Eaters are there? In case you have not noticed, there are many many fewer of us left to fight than there were before the battle at the Ministry, and there are very few Aurors to call on for assistance."
Harry's visage grew deathly pale, his green eyes gleaming as the flames lighting the corridor along which they walked dimmed into near extinguishment. "We won't need them, but call whoever you can. It will be difficult to fight and carry Hermione at the same time, as I don't imagine those bastards will leave her in any shape to help with her own escape. I'll find out what we need from Draco." Pale blond hair, matted with blood, clashed oddly with the silvery strands of memory that seemed to echo the fear and pain in the grey eyes.
As he turned and stalked off down the hallway, he heard McGonagall asking, "Albus, did you tell him we were keeping the Death Eaters here?"
The sound of a worry filled voice drifted down the hall. "No, Minerva, I did not."
* * * * * *
Harry sensed the other Death Eaters shrinking against the walls of their cells in the Hogwarts Dungeons as Draco's cry of pain cut through the air. The young man's usually immaculate hair was dirty and filled with sweat, his cheeks smudged with the grime that pervaded the dank little room he was kept in. Then there was his pale face slowly turning bright pink as gravity pulled the blood into it as his feet kicked helplessly in the air.
"I'm not going to tell you anything, Scarhead."
"Tsk, tsk, Draco. You still haven't come up with any better insults than that one, you death eating scum." Harry chuckled. "It hardly bothers me, any more, you realize, as this scar you make fun of so much is what let me destroy your precious Voldemort."
Draco attempted to spit at Harry, but discovered it was hardly as easy upside down as it is rightside up. "Whatever, Potter. I'm still not going to tell you anything."
"You can tell me, or we can do this the hard way, or we can do it the fun way." Harry's eyes flashed brightly at the last, and the hatred dripping through his voice made the young Malfoy's face go pale despite the blood sitting in it.
"You don't have the guts to torture me, Potter." Draco hardly sounded convinced of this, though.
"Maybe, maybe not. Besides, conventional torture would be far too slow. I need to know now, Draco." Harry bent down so he could look Draco in the eyes. "Don't resist. It will just make the experience more unpleasant for both of us." He waved his hand over Draco's face, and smiled. "They never thought to put one of those security curses on you, did they? Legilimens."
How many Death Eaters, Draco?
I won't tell you.
HOW MANY? Harry's mind rammed deep into Draco's, smashing through his feeble defenses.
One hundred and ninety-eight before the attack on the Ministry, including Ginny.
Where is the Death Exchange to take place?
Scarhead, I'm not going to…
Yes, you will. Now, WHERE?
Durmstrang.
How do you get past the wards at Durmstrang?
No, Potter…
HOW, DRACO?
You can't. You have to walk or fly in. Even the Dark Lord had to, and he set them up. Harry's eyes widened in surprise at that, and he pulled out of Draco's mind with surprising quickness. So much for sneaking in and getting her out. We'll have to try something less subtle.
Re-entering Draco's shocked mind was far too easy. Is there anything to keep me out, Draco? Dragons, other beasts?
No. I won't…
DRACO!
I… you can pass through the wards, and there are no magical beasts that will continue protecting the castle now that the Dark Lord is dead.
Harry grinned suddenly, and Draco crumpled to the floor as Harry left his mind once more. "Thank you for your help, Draco. I'll be sure to tell your father before we stick him in this cell with you just how eager you were to help us get a Mudblood back."
Draco merely moaned from the floor.
Harry turned to leave when Draco spoke softly. "Harry, wait." The unexpected form of address caused him to turn and look at the young pureblood expectantly. "You may hate us, but he is my father."
"I won't kill him if I don't have to. My word on it." Unless Hermione dies. Then you're all dead, and not even Dumbledore will stop me. I've risked too much to fail now.
"I understand. He won't kill Granger, Potter."
"If he does…" Harry's voice trailed off threateningly.
"I understand." Draco smiled briefly. "In another universe, I'd be competing with you for her."
"She would make the final choice, Draco, not us," Harry finished the conversation, turning and moving to the door of the cell.
Draco wanted the last word, though. "She already did make her choice, Scarhead. Doesn't it bug you she picked Weasley?"
Harry crushed down the anger and jealousy that flared brightly behind his eyes. "Not if it made her happy." He slammed the door shut on Malfoy's laughter on his way out.
* * * * * *
The entirety of the Order of the Phoenix was seated in the Great Hall when Harry returned upstairs. Four Weasleys nodded briefly to Harry, as did every member of the Order Harry had met and had not met.
They were all there, every still living member of the Order who would be of any use, as well as some of the Hogwarts teachers who were not part of the Order. As Harry's surprised eye swept over Aberforth Dumbledore, he grinned in a manner very reminiscent of his brother, who was sitting at the head of the table. "Hog's Head is closed for now, Harry," he said.
Harry had not thought it ever closed, and he nodded back to the man.
"Harry!" boomed Kingsley, holding up three day old copy of the Daily Prophet, "what is this nonsense? You're going to have to be a lot less flashy if you want to be an Auror."
Despite the tenseness of the situation, Harry grinned at Kingsley. "I'll keep that in mind." He made his way to the only empty seat, at Dumbledore's right hand and next to Aberforth, and sat lightly as the Headmaster cleared his throat softly, bringing silence on the room.
"No doubt those of you unaware of the situation have been brought up to date by those who are, but indulge me while I explain just in case. Simply put, Hermione Granger has been taken by the remaining Death Eaters to their base at…" he glanced down at Harry who mouthed the name, "…Durmstrang as bait to force Harry Potter to perform an ancient ritual known as the Death Exchange to return Tom Riddle to life, at the same time, removing Mister Potter from the equation. We can all agree that this would be a bad thing. I'll open the floor for debate."
Harry's jaw dropped open when Dumbledore finished speaking without giving a plan, and then nearly hit the floor as Kingsley spoke. "I hate to be the one to say this, but everyone here knew the risks involved when they signed up. The girl will die if we attack in force, and there is no way we can let Harry go through with the ritual. Voldemort cannot be allowed to return."
Tonks stood up so abruptly her chair fell backwards. "Bullshit, Shacklebolt. I say we attack now. We've been planning this attack for months, even before the final battle. Surely without He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named there, we'll be able to move in and take them out."
Dumbledore's quiet voice broke through again. "Harry, how many Death Eaters would you guess are in Durmstrang castle?"
Harry could not lie now, even though he desperately wanted to. "There were one hundred and ninety-eight Death Eaters before the Final Battle. I know we captured nineteen there and killed five and another five four days ago, plus one killed. That leaves one hundred and sixty-eight Death Eaters."
Dumbledore smiled sadly. "The Order has, over the past ten days, captured or killed another twenty-three of them, which leaves a sad total of one hundred and forty-five Death Eaters at large, the majority of which we may safely assume to be in Durmstrang."
Tonks looked deflated. "Then it's impossible. Even with you, Dumbledore, we can't take on that many of them. There aren't even enough Aurors left to be of use."
"We could safely say that that is true," Dumbledore replied. "But the fact remains, Miss Granger has been taken hostage."
Kingsley spoke up, sensing a rising tide of agreement with him around the table. "She knew the risks. We cannot risk everything to save her, especially on some foolish whim like this."
Hagrid and Misses Weasley were weeping, while her three sons looked ready to tear Shacklebolt apart. Remus and Tonks merely looked murderous, while Harry was having to restrain himself from dropping the large black Auror then and there. Dumbledore spoke softly once more. "We will have a vote, though I know that is not our normal way of doing business. I feel this matter too deeply touches us all." He looked sadly down the table, then started with McGonagall on his left. "Minerva?"
"As much as it pains me to say so, Albus, Shacklebolt is correct. We can't go."
Dumbledore nodded. "Fred Weasley?"
"Go."
"George Weasley?"
"Go. Now."
"Bill Weasley?"
"I agree. Go."
"Molly?"
"I will not lose my other daughter to this conflict. Go."
"Remus?"
"Of course we go."
"Nymphadora?"
"Don't call me that. We go, and to hell with the Death Eaters."
"Shacklebolt?"
"We don't go. There's too much at stake."
"Dedalus?"
"I agree with Shacklebolt. We can't do this."
"Elphias?"
"This is far too reckless. There is no way we can go."
"Mundungus?" Dumbledore asked, continuing around the table.
"Absolutely no. We beat that dark lord, and we can't be havin' him back."
"Hagrid?"
"O' course we've got ter go and get Hermione."
Dumbledore nodded. "Hestia?"
"I hate to say it, but Shacklebolt's right. This is reckless, and a mistake."
"Sturgis?"
"We cannot allow His return once more. It has cost too much. We don't go." Harry sighed as Sturgis Podmore's vote evened up the running. He would go, even if no one else would.
Dumbledore continued, glancing at some of the teachers. "Filius?"
"I cannot condone anything that could result in the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." The other voting continued much the same way, a steady majority being built in favor of not going. Of letting Hermione die. Dumbledore's soft voice continued saying names, and they continued to say no, and Harry's expression grew darker and darker.
Finally, "Aberforth?"
"We go, despite what everyone else seems to think." Harry looked up and smiled at Dumbledore's brother.
"Harry? I know your answer, but for…"
Harry cut him off. "We go, but my vote doesn't really matter now, does it? Even if you vote 'yes', Albus, which I don't think you would, having called for the vote to absolve yourself of blame, we still would not go." His voice was harsh, and everyone there had enough magic in them to feel the power flowing with his words. "I just want to say one thing to all of you, especially those of you who heard it once before, and you, Headmaster, who said it."
He stood slowly, and his green eyes pierced all of them, lastly steadily meeting the blue ones of Dumbledore. "Remember Cedric Diggory."
Dumbledore's eyes dropped, unable to meet Harry's. "You're right, Harry." He looked up, and addressed the group. "While I will not make any of you go who do not wish to, I would request that you all do so."
Kingsley stared disbelievingly at Dumbledore. "Remember Cedric Diggory? What nonsense is this? That boy died three years ago because he tried to be overly noble, just like Harry is doing now. I won't be part of getting us all killed."
"Shacklebolt, Harry was merely reminding me of something I said at the end of the year feast in his fourth year." Dumbledore's face grew much older, looking heavily pained as he recited, "Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."
Faces all around the table dropped before Dumbledore continued. "If you wish to come with us, we will be leaving by Portkey in twenty minutes outside the main doors. Please meet there. I need to talk with Harry."
Once everyone had filed out, Dumbledore turned to Harry. "I take it you know something more for me to work with?"
"We cannot get in without physically passing through the wards. According to Malfoy, even Voldemort had to walk through the wards that had been put in place. And they will admit me for now."
"I thought as much. Tom never was one for subtlety when it was not needed." Dumbledore smiled kindly. "How did your research go?"
"Good." The pleasure in being able to answer that question properly was too obvious in Harry's voice, though, apparently.
The twinkle returned to the Headmaster's eyes. "You and Miss Granger planned this, didn't you? That's why you stopped to get a drink in Hogsmeade."
Harry shook his head. "Not precisely. We were going to start taunting them soon, by leaving Grimmauld Place. We discussed that once I figured out how to beat the Death Exchange. Hermione wants to end this almost as much as I do. I've been fighting this far too long. We were hoping to whittle their strength down, by taking out capture teams one at time. I never thought they would attack in such force in a place with so many other wizards present. But we needed to stay outside the wards, both here and at home, long enough to make sure they noticed us. She knew the risks, like Kingsley said, but she also is expecting us to come for her." He shook his head, staring at his feet. "How many other people got hurt because of this?"
"There are three dead and seven wounded as a result of the attack, not counting Miss Granger."
Harry frowned. "This has gone on for too long now. I can stop it, I know how, I did it before…" His voice trailed off. "But not that way."
"I understand, Harry. Sometimes the things which we have done haunt us forever. Indulge an old man one question about your past. How did I die?"
Harry blinked, his mouth agape at the Headmaster. "How did you know?"
"It was impossible not to. Despite the changes wrought in you by your time, you still looked at me with the respect for a Headmaster you once had. Which means I died before we became proper friends."
Harry lowered his head. "Like many of the people who just left, you died saving the world in the Ministry ten days ago."
Dumbledore nodded, calmly accepting this. "And to save you, at a guess, from your reaction."
Harry nodded. "Yes." Not entirely. Since I was the one who killed you all to save the world.
"Come Harry, we should go now. Everyone else will be waiting for us." Dumbledore beckoned the young wizard before him.
"If I can borrow two things, Headmaster. The sword and a school broom."
"You may get those items from my office, Harry. I keep my own old broom there. The password is unchanged. I will explain to everyone else the plan."
"You know the plan?" Harry blinked in confusion. He had gotten very good in his future at hiding his thoughts.
"Of course. It is obvious what it must be. You will go in, and the Death Exchange will fail to occur as the Death Eaters have planned it, and then you will retrieve Miss Granger, striking from within them, while signaling the rest of us to move in from without."
Harry nodded, somehow, unsurprised, and then walked away to the Headmaster's office.