The Final Lesson
by Jardyn39
Chapter 24 - Hangman's Rest
Harry woke slowly and tried to move at once. He opened his eyes and found he was lying face down in wet grass. It was almost dawn now and he was numb with cold.
"He's over here!" came a shout.
Harry tensed as he heard running footsteps coming towards him.
"Harry?"
He relaxed a little recognising George's voice. A warm blanket was placed over him.
"He's frozen, Fred. Start a fire, will you?"
"Is that wise? Maybe we should just get him away from here."
Harry faded back into unconsciousness.
*
Harry sat up suddenly making both Fred and George start.
"Whoa, there!"
"Where am I?" demanded Harry, kicking off the blankets that covered him.
"Calm down, Harry. We're in our flat, above the shop," answered George.
"Well, what's left of it," muttered Fred.
"Here, drink this," said George, handing Harry a large pewter tankard.
Harry was about to refuse when he caught the smell of the steaming hot chocolate. He gratefully took it and sipped quickly.
"Why didn't you Disapparate away when we did?" asked Fred.
"I saw Ron."
"Ron?"
"Yes. Ollivander was there too. The bodies were compliments of him."
"Bodies?"
"Yeah, those zombie things were in the crates."
"All we found was you, mate. No crates and no bodies."
"Oh."
"We'd have come to find you sooner, only when we got back we discovered the shop was being robbed. It was all rather bit chaotic, actually, what with the number of people they had. We both assumed you were here with us."
"Sorry, Harry," added George. "If we'd known you were still back there we'd have come at once."
"Don't worry about it. I seemed to lead a charmed life as far as Ollivander is concerned. Did they get away with much?"
"Nothing, as far as we can tell. Mind you, the fight left a lot of damage. Most of our stock was destroyed but they didn't get into any of our secure research stores."
"Did anyone raise the alarm?"
"Yeah, but the Ministry people only turned up after it was all over. We didn't like to tell them you were missing, in case we got you into trouble. They seemed more interested in finding out where we got our materials than catching the people who broke in, to be honest."
"Yeah, and they kept on about wanting to see inside our secure stores."
"We have to find Ron again," said Harry firmly.
"That idiot can look after himself."
"They are going to kill him, Fred. That reminds me, I need to get a message to Kingsley. Tardov turned up as well. He's clearly in with Ollivander too."
"Tardov?" asked Fred.
"Yes, you know him?"
"Painfully thin and looks ill all of the time?"
"Yes. Straw coloured hair," confirmed Harry. "He's supposed to be working for Scrimgeour, but we suspect he's got quite another agenda. Unfortunately, it's by no means clear what that agenda actually is."
"Well, if it's the same bloke, he's bought quite a lot of stuff from us, actually."
"Yeah, he was someone else who took a keen interest in the people we've been dealing with. Kept asking lots of questions, didn't he, George?"
"I need to find him. He's my only link with Ollivander and Ron. Do you know where he hangs out?"
*
Harry donned his invisibility cloak and wound his way through the vehicles in the car park. The area was dark and the inside of the building was well lit, but he didn't want to chance being seen.
He approached the nearest window and peered into the lounge bar of The Hangman's Rest Public House.
This was the third place on Fred and George's list of places that he might find Tardov.
Harry scanned the busy bar but saw no-one familiar.
He drew back and walked right around to the other side. The windows on the road side of the pub were more difficult to see through. Several panes were in obscured glass and most of the others were covered with advertisement posters.
Through a crack he scanned the customers once more.
Sitting alone in a booth on the far side of the bar was Tardov. He was looking discretely at the other clientele.
Harry realised that he was sitting right next to the very first window he'd looked through. He must have been too close to see properly.
Harry was just deciding whether to chance going into the bar when a figure went up to Tardov and placed two pints of beer down on the table before sitting opposite.
It was Malemo.
Ollivander, Tardov and Malemo.
Harry decided he needed to get inside. Perhaps he could overhear part of their conversation, although the two had not spoken a single word to each other so far.
He moved around to the entrance door and waited for someone to come out or go in so he could follow undetected. The bar wasn't so full that it wouldn't be noticed if the door opened on its own accord.
Just as he was about to give up waiting, the door opened.
Tardov and Malemo emerged from the bar and walked around towards the rear car park. Harry waited a few moments before following in case they heard his footsteps. It would have been easier to follow had they been talking to each other.
Harry crept along the narrow path that cut through into the car park and found Tardov and Malemo standing a few yards away conversing in whispers.
He needed to get closer.
Careful not to make a sound, Harry moved towards them. He was only a few feet away when he stopped.
The two of them were only pretending to talk. Each held their wand ready, as did Harry.
Suddenly they wheeled apart. Malemo fired at something off to the side while Tardov ran towards Harry.
Harry barged into Tardov and then threw off his cloak. Tardov was sprawled on the tarmacadam but still managed to block his stunner.
He was about to fire again when he was hit from behind. Harry's legs buckled under him as Malemo ran up and kicked him hard in the stomach. Harry's wand flew off under one of the cars.
Malemo levelled his wand at Harry's chest.
With a smile playing across his mouth, he uttered, "Avada-"
There was a red flash and suddenly he collapsed onto the hard pavings. Harry heard Tardov scramble to his feet and run.
More stunners flew over Harry towards the escaping Tardov.
"Incarcerous!"
Harry looked up and was relieved to see Percy checking the bindings that secured Malemo.
"Okay, Harry?" he asked casually.
"My wand," he gasped, clutching his stomach.
"Accio wand!"
Percy caught the wand and handed to Harry.
"Thanks," said Harry, now rubbing his knee. "I was after Tardov. Ron's in trouble, but he doesn't know it. I was hoping Tardov would lead me to him. Did you see where he went?"
"He's long gone I'm afraid. Look, come with me, Harry. I need to deliver this one to Kingsley Shacklebolt."
"You know where Kingsley is?"
"Well, I know where he'll be tonight, yes."
*
Harry waited patiently in Kingsley's tent while he dealt with taking Malemo into custody. This time the camp looked like it was located at the bottom of a disused quarry. Outside there were massive potholes filled with cloudy water.
Kingsley returned and Harry was able to thank Percy again before he left for the Burrow.
"Don't worry, Harry. I'll tell mother that you're fine."
"Thanks, Percy."
Percy Disapparated and Kingsley pointed Harry towards a chair.
"There's something you should know, Harry," he said seriously.
Harry tensed.
"We raided another small camp earlier this evening, and we arrested a number of undesirables. It was all rather impromptu actually. We hadn't expected so many to be gathered there. Anyway, one of their number is a friend of yours."
"Who is it?"
"Ronald Weasley."
Harry sighed with relief.
"What about Ollivander? Did you get Ollivander too?"
"He wasn't there when our people arrived. Percy says you were following Tardov tonight. Tell me about that first and then maybe I'll answer some of your questions."
Harry smiled and nodded.
*
Kingsley smiled to himself and tore the parchment he had been reading into several pieces.
"What was that?" asked Harry.
"This," replied Kingsley with a small chuckle, "was Percy's statement saying he may have breached the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy this evening. I told him that at most the pub regulars probably thought someone let off a couple of fireworks, but you know Percy. Everything has to be by the book."
Harry nodded and smiled back at him.
"When did this all start?" asked Harry.
"Well, as you know the Minister saw fit to remove me from the Prime Minister's protection shortly after the raid on the Archive. For some time I thought he was just annoyed that I'd been co-operating with John Bateman.
"Anyway, I was posted back to regular Auror duties. Our dear Delores had been in charge a couple of weeks before I reported in and in that short time she had managed to wipe out any semblance of effective law enforcement.
"The senior Aurors got together quietly and discussed what to do. Her Aims for the Auror Department document went down a storm," he said sarcastically. "I'm sure it was aimed at five year olds. I ask you, should a Ministry briefing paper have drawings in it?
"Anyway, I suggested we left her to pretend to be in charge while we left the Ministry and set ourselves up somewhere we could work unhindered.
"We guessed correctly that she would be too proud to admit she hasn't actually seen an Auror in the flesh for quite some time. We send her things we want publicised and that appears to keep her happy."
"You want things publicised?"
"Sometimes it's useful. Suspects are more willing to talk when they see independent evidence that a colleague is in custody and may be informing on them as well."
"So, are you completely independent now?"
"Only so far. We have unofficial contacts at Azkaban and most of the other Ministry departments."
"What about the Wizengamot?"
"Again, we have contacts with trusted individuals, but just lately we've preferred to leave Umbridge to deal with the Wizengamot officially."
"Is that wise?"
"Well, the Wizengamot hasn't been very effective for some time. While Voldemort is free and killing, they are very reluctant to convict any of his followers for fear of reprisals."
"That's outrageous."
"Perhaps, but it's also understandable. They may be some of our most powerful and respected wizards and witches, but they are still people with vulnerable families and friends."
"But if there are no prosecutions, how will we ever win?"
"We satisfy ourselves with smaller victories. Remanding suspects keeps them off the streets for a while. Besides, usually they are in no hurry to get out, especially if they know they will be punished by Voldemort. Getting caught is usually terminal in the longer term."
"Are you worried about accusations of bias or being outside Ministry control?"
"We are biased and outside of Ministry control, Harry," Kingsley said with a grin. "I know what you mean, though. I remember when Barty Crouch was in control. The Aurors in those days were feared almost as much as the Death Eaters. They didn't always arrest only the guilty, as you well know."
*
"What are you going to do with Ron?" asked Harry uncertainly.
"Nothing. I mean, there's nothing we need detain him further for," answered Kingsley. "There is no evidence that he's been involved with anything. Mind you, I can't say the same for some of the people he's been associating with lately.
"When he first came to our attention during our surveillance operations, I half wondered if he was there on your orders."
"No," replied Harry quietly. "I would never ask Ron to do anything like that."
"Well, although some of his views are distasteful, all we will do is lock him up for a few hours. A cold, quiet cell can have quite a sobering effect. Hopefully he'll come to his senses."
"I still have no idea why he's been behaving like this," admitted Harry. "I have a horrible feeling that it has something to do with me."
"Do you want to see him?"
"Yes, please."
*
Harry stepped into the small stone walled cell and the heavy door was slammed shut behind him. There was the sound of a heavy bolt being drawn across and then a small lantern hung on the wall behind him came to life.
Inside the cell were a single stool and a cot upon which a tall figure was laid. His robe was drawn up over his head and his feet extended a few inches beyond the end of the cot.
Harry sat on the stool.
All of the walls and most of the vaulted ceiling were covered in graffiti.
"What are you in here for?" asked Ron, without looking up.
"I asked if I could speak to you before they let you go."
Recognising Harry's voice, Ron emerged from his cloak and sat up.
"They're letting me go?"
"That's what Kingsley said. Why, is there something you expected to be charged with?"
"I did wonder," said Ron, but he didn't elaborate.
They were quiet for a few moments.
"So, what did you want?" asked Ron.
"I don't really know where to start," Harry admitted. "I mean, I never envisaged wanting to ask you what I want to know."
"Ask away, Harry."
"You've been associating with some rather unpleasant people just lately, haven't you?"
"That depends on how you judge them," responded Ron immediately. "It is probably true that some of them have got a poor reputation, and more than a few do have criminal records; but they've always treated me fairly."
"Are you entirely comfortable about what these people do and say?"
"I take no interest in what they do. It isn't for me to judge how some of them scrape a living. It's true that some of them steal or trade in stolen goods, but remember that it isn't easy to get a proper job once you've got a record."
"To be honest, I was thinking more of their attitude to Muggles and so-called Mudbloods."
"They are entitled to their views."
"As are you."
"That's right."
"But, Ron, you haven't answered my question. I'm concerned about you. So is Hermione. She warned me ages ago that I should take her concerns seriously."
"Yeah?" Ron responded coldly.
"I didn't take her seriously, and I feel I've let you down because of that. You see, I was sure of my trust in you. For as long as I've known you, you have never stood for any disrespect to Muggles. Even the mere mention of Mudbloods set you off."
"Perhaps I have become a little more intolerant," agreed Ron. "When you are in a bar full of drunken bigots, it isn't always prudent to start lecturing them on how wrong they are."
"How have your own views changed, Ron?"
"Well," Ron said slowly, rubbing his chin, "in truth, my views haven't changed that much. Mind you, some of the anti-Mudblood jokes are funny; not that I'd ever admit that to Hermione."
"That might be sensible," agreed Harry.
"You know, that was how I met Ollivander?" said Ron conversationally. "A small group of them were planning a little trip to scare some Muggles and I had been invited to go along. I refused, of course, and actually tried to persuade them not to do it.
"I failed, naturally, and they all went off leaving me alone in the bar. Ollivander had been sitting quietly in the next booth listening to the whole thing. He invited me to join him and we got talking."
"You talked?" Harry repeated incredulously. "After what he did, you talked?"
Ron sighed.
"Harry, I know you've taken a dislike to him, but-"
"Dislike?! Yes, I do dislike him. He's the Healer! He was the one who cut up Jack Gurnet and Alison Weston! He also kidnapped Hermione, remember?"
"Harry, how sure are you about those things? I didn't see him grab Hermione and I was closest apart from you. As far as the Healer thing is concerned, there really isn't any evidence, is there?"
Harry fought to control his anger. Through gritted teeth he answered, "I saw Ollivander grab Hermione and I saw Alison Weston's reaction just before she died. I've told you all this before. Don't you believe me?"
"I think you believe what you are saying, Harry. To tell the truth, I've never seen Ollivander as a credible suspect as far as the Healer thing is concerned."
"Why not?" demanded Harry.
"He didn't admit he was the Healer to you, did he?"
"No, he refused to plea either way."
"Well, the cutting the actual Healer did was rather extravagant, wasn't it? I think that the person capable of doing that wouldn't hide their achievements. They'd want to boast about them; especially to you."
"That is true," Harry admitted. "I tend to think that anyone with such a mindset might not be so predictable, though. Ollivander isn't stupid, either. The Healer must expect a lifetime in Azkaban at best once he is caught."
"Unless he's working for You-Know-Who."
"That might change."
"Maybe. Are you sure Alison Weston was identifying Ollivander?"
"He was right behind me and there was no-one else around. He'd vanished by the time I'd turned around, though. Alison died almost immediately after."
"So you could be mistaken?"
"That's why the Prophet and Quibbler wouldn't publish his name. They thought I could have been mistaken too."
"I know," said Ron gently. "Harry, I know you don't want to hear this, but isn't it possible that you are just looking for someone to punish for what happened to Jack Gurnet and Alison Weston?"
Harry smarted.
"Of course I want him punished for what he did to them!" he shouted.
"That's not what I meant, Harry. Of course the Healer should be punished."
"What then?"
"Are you blaming Ollivander just because he's the only one you think might be the Healer?"
"I," said Harry before hesitating. He had been about to say, "I know he's the Healer!"
"I don't need to punish him myself, Ron," said Harry. "I just want him to face justice."
"There isn't much justice around these days, in case you haven't noticed," Ron said darkly. "But suppose, for argument's sake, he was given a full and fair trial by the Wizengamot. Would you be satisfied?"
"Yes, provided it was fair."
"By fair, do you mean so long as he's found guilty?"
"I can't believe you even asked me that."
Ron shrugged and looked up at the tiny window on the far wall.
"No, Ron, I didn't mean that. I'd abide by whatever the Wizengamot decided, even if I disagreed with their verdict."
"Mm," muttered Ron in a dismissive tone. "Of course, we all know the Wizengamot isn't going to give him any trial at all."
"True."
"So, won't it be tempting to deal with him yourself?"
"Yes, it was," agreed Harry. "That's something else I don't get about Ollivander."
"What?" asked Ron interestedly.
"Well, you saw how he was," said Harry. "He kept goading me. It was as if he was trying to provoke me into attacking him. Did you see what he had in those crates?"
"No, why?"
"Ron, listen to me. Ollivander said he's going to kill you. He said the others won't want you around unless you get more involved."
"I'm not stupid, Harry."
"Ron, I'm serious! Ollivander described you as gullible and naïve, Ron. He also said you were quite incapable of imagining the pain and suffering ahead of you."
Ron rubbed his face with both hands and said, "Ollivander is pretty twisted."
"You know something," said Harry. "He told you something, didn't he?"
"Maybe."
"Tell me."
"I'm not saying anything in this cell. Get me out of here and give me my wand back," demanded Ron.
Harry hammered on the cell door. It was opened almost at once.
"You!" said the guard aggressively at Ron. "Get on your feet. You're going out now."