The Kemmynadow Betrayal
by Jardyn39
Chapter 19 - Too Skinny
Harry hurried over to Ron who was having his head quickly bandaged by Hermione. It could only be moments before whatever was about to be released into the Arena made its appearance.
"You okay?" he asked both of them.
"Yeah, I just forgot to duck," said Ron.
"Has either of you seen Kreacher?"
"Kreacher?"
"Yes, he was here," explained Harry.
"No, we didn't see him."
"He said there was a staircase that lead up to the outside. That's how he got down here. He mentioned seeing a water level gauge too."
"There's a staircase?" asked Ron incredulously.
"Hey, I've seen some kind of gauge," said Carlyle. "It was through there," he added, pointing back towards the darkened opening from where he'd just escaped.
"Just exactly what is in there, anyway?" asked Bateman.
Harry stepped outside the circle, placing himself between the opening and his friends. With his free hand, he felt inside his pocket hoping to feel the broken fragments of the Phoenix shell that Dumbledore had bequeathed him. He knew he only had fragments, but even these were a comfort.
For a moment he wondered if he was looking in the wrong pocket.
Distracted, he looked down and hardly noticed the creature that had just entered the Arena.
Hermione stepped beside him and said, "Er, Harry? You still with us? Only there's something coming into the Arena."
Hermione froze, having just seen what Harry was now holding in the palm of his hand.
"Goodness, Harry," said Hermione, now just as distracted as he was.
Neither of them noticed as everyone else advanced in front of them towards the emerging threat.
Harry held up his hand and Hermione took one of the two tiny golden eggs.
"How do we kill it, Ron?" Bateman was asking from somewhere out in front.
Harry glanced up, but couldn't see what they were talking about with everyone standing in the way. He looked down again.
"What does this mean, Hermione?"
"Ron, I think that just made it angrier," said Bateman. "Oh, great, now there are three more coming out."
"Well," answered Hermione, who wasn't paying any more attention than Harry was, "the short version would be that you now have two more reasons to live. You'll have to wait for the long version. Um, shall we help Ron?"
Harry pocketed the tiny egg and once more walked in front of his friends. The closest of the giant scorpions that had been advancing on Ron turned to face him, sting arched menacingly over its back.
Harry raised his wand, feeling the dark magic boil up inside him. He hesitated, though. The thought of Hagrid's reaction to the creatures occurred to him. Hagrid would have loved these creatures; eight feet long with claws and stings!
Absently his fingertips found the tiny egg inside his pocket again and that was the moment that he knew.
He couldn't kill these creatures. They had been driven out into the Arena and were acting upon instinct only.
It was time that he acted upon instinct too. With a wave of his wand he hoisted the scorpion high into the air and tossed it lightly right into the middle of the remaining crowd who scattered in blind panic.
He turned back to the remaining scorpions. Three had retreated back into the darkness and one was in the process of also being hoisted up onto the stone seating tiers by Hermione. The final scorpion hesitated before quickly turning and scurrying back through the doorway. Alarmed cries came from inside the doorway at this.
"Hermione, did you find the Archive?" asked Bateman. "Did you install the mirror?"
"Well, I think I did find it," she replied, "but the mirror didn't work at all."
"Oh, well. At least we tried. Let's get out of here and warn the Ministry," suggested Bateman.
"Hermione, could you find the Archive again?" asked Harry.
"Yes, but why?"
"Can you take me there?" he asked. "This place is in chaos now, so the rest of you should be able to get out without too much trouble."
"No way, Harry. If you need to go to the Archive, we all go."
Harry looked around in surprise to hear Smith say these words. He was leaning heavily against Hagland now and still covered in blood.
"Lead the way, Hermione," said Bateman.
*
The Archive was actually only a short walk from the Arena, once they had re-entered the old cave system. Harry and Hermione entered while the others waited and stood guard at the entrance.
As soon as they entered, Harry shouted, "Scenariste, come out here!"
Harry looked up into the cathedral like space. Every inch of wall and column was covered in elaborately carved marble.
Light streamed in through high windows. As the light was clearly coming from several different directions at once they knew it was artificial sunlight.
On either side of the wide central aisle along which they walked, there were hundreds of reading desks.
"Scenariste!" Harry shouted again, his voice echoing freely.
"I'm here," replied Scenariste timidly.
"Show yourself," demanded Harry. "I've brought someone to meet you."
Scenariste appeared from within a circular column.
"This is Hermione Granger," said Harry. "Hermione, this is Scenariste, one of the librarians here who maintain the Archive for the Ministry."
"You were here before," said Scenariste. "I guessed you were the one who likes libraries when I saw you."
Hermione smiled and nodded.
"Scenariste, Voldemort and his followers will be leaving here shortly, mainly because the Ministry should be here in force any moment now hopefully. In time, they should be able to restore your links with London."
"That would be pleasing, but without any staff the library cannot continue to function."
"Well, perhaps you'll need to do some recruiting. After all, you are Head Librarian now, aren't you?"
"I am?"
"Look, I really wanted to ask you something. We came here hoping to access the Archive. I know we cannot gain access without your approval, but we still want access."
"Muggle technology can be used to analyse the information," said Hermione. "Trivial links can be used to identify Voldemort's allies and his potential victims. The Ministry is so disorganised, Voldemort will always have the upper hand. We need to redress the balance."
"It comes down to this," Harry pressed. "Whose side are you on, Scenariste?"
"You know?" said Scenariste. "Just because the Ministry has not asked us to look for links and patterns in our Archive, it does not mean that we cannot find them."
"Really?" asked Hermione. "I just assumed you were as hopeless as the Ministry when it came to organisation."
"An understandable assumption. I do have some reservations about granting access to anyone outside the wizarding community. Would it not be in all our best interests if the information continued to be divested through the Ministry?"
"Not really, Scenariste." said Harry. "Remember that your pleas for help were ignored by the Ministry. I think that Voldemort has people working for him at the Ministry. If they could intercept and block your messages, then they could also do the same for any other kind of report."
"I suppose that's true," admitted Scenariste, looking troubled.
Harry sighed and said, "Well, at least think about it, will you?"
"Um," said Hermione. "Scenariste? Do you think we could see the Library? I mean, see it in operation?"
Scenariste appeared to brighten up at once.
"Oh, yes indeed! I was just cataloguing and re-indexing the statistics on average rainfall for 1467 before all this nastiness began. Would you like to see?"
Harry was about to say, "No!" when Hermione nudged him and said enthusiastically, "Oh, yes!"
Hermione followed Scenariste as he floated off over to one of the reading desks.
Harry was about to follow when he heard his name being called.
"Harry?"
Kingsley Shacklebolt was hurrying towards him.
"Thank goodness you're all alive!"
"Um, are you here on Ministry business or Order business?" asked Harry with a smile.
"Strictly Ministry today, Harry."
"How did you find us?"
"Well, your house elf managed to get out and raised the alarm."
"Is Kreacher okay?"
"Yes, he's safe. He said a ghost helped him and guided him out. By the time we arrived, most of the Death Eaters had gone. We're taking care of the remainder now."
"Voldemort didn't gain access to the Archive, but he did wipe out most of the ghost staff. He also somehow closed down the links between here and the Ministry."
"Ghosts?"
"Yes. They've been sending messages asking for help for ages. Someone at the Ministry has to have intercepted those messages."
"There can't be many people who could be in a position to do that. I suppose it could be more than one person too. Did you gain access to the Archive?"
"No, and I'm not sure we will yet," admitted Harry. "By the way, the librarian over there told us that they can actually do the same kind of analysis that Miss Alice was planning. It's just that no one ever asked."
"Harry, I should really escort you and our friends out of here before someone decide to arrest you for trespassing."
"Okay, but let's at least wait until Hermione's tour is over. You never know, her charm offensive might actually work."
*
An hour later, the group was escorted back down to the Arena. High up on the tiers, a solitary scorpion held a very wary group of Ministry wizards at bay. Several other giant scorpions had been caged and were arranged neatly in the centre.
A large opening had been cut into the grassed over concrete roof of the old reservoir and bright sunlight was now streaming inside.
The surviving Giantess had been manacled and was now moaning softly and stoking the head of her fallen friend, the one that had been killed by Voldemort.
Harry stopped, moved by the creature's grief.
Kingsley put his hand on Harry's shoulder and said gently, "Now isn't the time, Harry."
"What will happen to her?" asked Harry.
"I imagine that eventually she'll be deported back East to the Urals."
"I don't think so," said Harry seriously, striding over.
Kingsley made to grab Harry but he was blocked firmly by both Bateman and Duke.
Harry stood quietly for a moment. After a while the giant looked up at him and a hint of faint recognition appeared in her eyes. Harry remembered that unlike her fallen friend, this Giantess could think for herself.
As far as he could see, she was uninjured. He was pleased that his Conjunctivitis Curse hadn't had any lasting effect. He suspected her battle helmet had protected her from the worst of it.
Harry couldn't tell if the battle marks on her armour had been sustained recently or not. Her enormous helmet lay discarded at her side.
The Giantess suddenly raised her arms, her chains flailing wildly.
"Do you understand me?" Harry asked carefully.
The Giantess nodded, lowering her arms slightly.
"Voldemort killed your friend here. I am fighting Voldemort and anyone who fights for him. Will you fight Voldemort or will you fight me?"
The Giantess shook her chains aggressively.
"I'm going to release you. If you choose to fight against Voldemort, there must be no more fighting. No more killing. You will travel north to the mountains where you will wait until I call you.
"If you choose to fight against me, I will not spare you. If you fight me and I win, I will kill you."
Harry took out his wand and with a slow and deliberate arm movement, severed one of the charmed links in the chain which fell heavily to the floor. He was about to release her ankles when she reached down and grabbed her leg chains. With a great heave the chain gave way. Clearly the extra movement she had without her arms being bound made all the difference.
She stood and roared with anger. Everyone in the Arena was looking transfixed at the scene before them.
She stopped and looked down. Pointing to the dead Giant between them, she said in a booming voice, "Bruder".
"T- That's German for brother, Harry," said Hermione timidly from just behind him. "I think he was her brother."
Harry nodded and realised he could see a vague family resemblance. She suddenly dropped to her knees and brought her head down very close to Harry. Even on her knees she was very much taller than Harry standing and she obviously wanted to take a very good look at him.
The Giantess pointed to herself and shouted, "Herita!"
Harry smiled and said, "Hello Herita, my name is Harry."
She leaned even closer and sniffed deeply before straightening up and considering him again. Harry assumed she was memorizing his features, and was a little surprised when Hermione looped her arm through his.
Herita turned to look at Hermione.
"I think he's a little too skinny for you, anyway," said Hermione smiling nervously.
Herita got to her feet and in one fast movement ripped off her brother's battered chest armour and threw it aside. She grabbed his shirt and heaved him up over her shoulder. His back armour clattered to the floor.
"She's going to bury him," Hermione said sadly.
Harry nodded as Herita walked under the roof opening and began to climb up the rope and netting. Harry could only marvel at her strength as she carried her considerably bigger brother up into the daylight.
"I suppose you expect me to assign a team to escort her up to Hogwarts for you?" said Kingsley from just behind them.
"No," said Harry at once. "I'd prefer it if Hagrid and Grawp come down to meet her first. That way I know she won't be mistreated. You might want to have a team trail them along the journey north, though. There are bound to be some repairs and memory modifications to perform."
"Have you any idea how much trouble there's going to be when Scrimgeour finds out about this?"
Harry turned to Kingsley ready to argue, but saw that he was grinning back at him. He winked at Hermione and went off to find some wizards to watch over Herita.
*
They exited the Arena through the scorpion door, walking past large empty cages on either side. The stench was appalling.
They were heading towards the staircase when Bateman opened a side door that lead into a brightly lit white tiled lobby.
"Look familiar?" he asked, throwing the door open.
Harry realised with a shock of horror that it looked very familiar indeed. Harry led the others as they followed Bateman inside.
Hanging up on a row of hooks were various surgical gowns and laboratory coats. There was a strong smell of disinfectant.
There was a short passage that led to a surgical theatre and another corridor. The theatre looked like it had not been used very recently, although glass fronted cupboards all around contained gleaming surgical instruments.
"It looks like The Healer has been operating again," Bateman said dryly.
"Ollivander was here," said Harry, staring at the operating table in the centre of the room. "He was on the balcony where Voldemort was."
Duke, who had been exploring the other areas, appeared at the door looking white with shock.
Harry took one look at him and knew that he'd made a similar discovery to that when Harry and Bateman had found Jack Gurnet and Alison Weston while they were attempting to rescue prisoners.
They all followed Duke in silence.
Instead of the bars on the caged rooms, the Healer had installed large glass windows. This was presumably to better see the inmates, but mostly the insides of the glass had been smeared with blood.
The first room was filled with brown coloured water. Several bloated bodies were floating face down in the water.
The next room was empty save for the signs of a violent struggle. It wasn't at all clear how many people had left body parts behind in this room.
When Ron looked into the third room, he immediately backed away from the window. Turning to leave, he got only four paces before he threw up.
With a shaking hand, Harry attempted to vanish the glass.
"Maybe the glass has something like an unbreakable charm," said Hermione, making her own attempt. Harry looked up and realised that far from being unaffected, she was simply not able to look into the room. She wasn't alone either.
Bateman was the only one other than Harry who refused to look away.
Harry looked around the window. The twelve foot wide continuous sheet of glass probably was charmed, as Hermione had said. The glass was set into a concrete surround that Harry guessed would not be charmed.
Harry traced the outline of the window with his wand and vanished the concrete. The glass fell to the floor and Harry levitated it off to one side in one piece.
Bateman stepped inside. With the glass safely propped, Harry followed.