Unofficial Portkey Archive

The Final Lesson

by Jardyn39

Chapter 27 - Green Light

Harry looked up and smiled seeing John Bateman come into the room. He and Mary had been brought back to Grimmauld Place by Harry very late the previous evening. Bateman had been transferred by Madam Pomfrey to St. Mungos four days ago in order that the specialist Healers there might speed his recovery.

Mary had stayed at his bedside for almost the entire time since he arrived at St. Mungos, and had not lost a single opportunity to nag Harry while Bateman remained unconscious.

Harry wasn't finding it easy to forgive either Ron or Hermione for their recent actions, and found himself visiting the hospital more and more just as an excuse to get away from Grimmauld Place; even if that meant he had to subject himself to Mary's persistent badgering.

Mary had no idea what the secret was that bound the three of them together, but she knew how worried both Hermione and Harry in particular had been about Ron's apparent turning.

Mary urged Harry not to even consider punishing the other two for their actions, arguing that they were only truly strong together. He needed to mend fences, not put more up.

Harry accepted that she was right in his heart, even if his head found it more difficult. The one thing he fully accepted was that he might not get another chance to reconcile things with Ron.

Perhaps predictably, Hermione was giving Ron a torrid time of it at the moment. She had been almost hoarse from shouting a couple of times when he got back in the evenings and the atmosphere always seemed tense. It was plain to Harry that she was taking her own guilt anxieties out on Ron.

Even Kreacher had enough of them and had decided Harry should send him off to Hogwarts for a while. Harry didn't really blame him for wanting to go, but he was a little put out when Kreacher wouldn't let Harry join him there.

In the days since his return, Ron had made a start contacting his family, but hadn't yet returned to the Burrow to face his parents.

Harry was pleased to find Bateman fully recovered, at least physically, when he was discharged. The moment of his actual departure had been marred by a minor incident that left Harry wondering if Bateman's two memory modifications weren't still causing him problems.

"I thought we'd finish our lesson now," Bateman said seriously, closing the door.

"Bear, you can't be serious," said Harry, putting down his newspaper.

"Really?"

"If you want me to apologise for not killing you, just say so. I'd have thought you ought to be pleased, actually. I know Mary and Hermione are."

"You're missing the point again, Harry."

"Okay, so what is the point?"

"Stand up," ordered Bateman.

Harry began to stand but had to jump sideways to avoid the low punch aimed at his stomach. As Bateman's swing continued through thin air, Harry sprawled onto the floor.

Bateman kicked the chair over in frustration as Harry got quickly to his feet.

"I see you haven't forgotten everything I taught you since the summer."

"To be honest, I thought all the training was a waste of time," retorted Harry and raising his wand to defend himself. "Now, are you going to behave or do I have to put you back in St Mungos?"

Bateman reached behind his back and withdrew a lethal looking knife from his belt.

"Where'd you get that from?"

"The Weasleys were kind enough to replace it for me. The blade is enchanted too."

"Remind me to have a word with Fred and George, will you?" muttered Harry.

Bateman rotated the blade expertly in one hand so the long blade pointed downwards.

"I beat you once against an enchanted blade, Bear," said Harry. "Do I really need to do it again?"

"I've learned from my mistakes, Harry. How about you?"

Harry fired a weak stunning spell but Bateman easily deflected it away using the blade.

"Stop playing, Harry. If you don't have respect for your opponent, you'll always be at a disadvantage."

Harry fired three spells in rapid succession. Bateman ignored the first two, seeing that they were intended to distract him. He blocked the third with his knife, leaving himself open to Harry's fourth spell. The full body bind spell hit him square in the chest.

Bateman froze, but to Harry's consternation his limbs did not snap together.

Bateman grimaced as he fought the effects of the spell. Harry recognised that Bateman must be wearing some of Fred and George's shielded underclothing that was helping to counter the effects of his spell.

Harry quickly moved around to Bateman's back. He was still mobile but the spell was hampering his reflexes.

Harry brought his wand up and lightly touched the bare skin at the back of Bateman's neck.

Bateman fell in a heap at once and Harry wrenched the knife out of his hand.

Harry grabbed Bateman's collar and dragged him over to the fireplace so he wouldn't get too cold. He then turned him over so he was lying on his back.

"Now," said Harry sitting down again, "perhaps we could discuss this in a more sensible manner?"

"Release me," demanded Bateman angrily, sounding slightly choked.

"No," replied Harry simply. "Not until you've heard me out. Are you comfortable or would you like a cushion?"

Bateman swore at him and then continued to struggle for a while. Harry waited patiently. The paralysis that Bateman was suffering from would not wear off for some time.

"I shouldn't bother to struggle," advised Harry. "You are paralysed from the neck down. Other than breathing, you have no control over your body."

Bateman appeared to calm down a little.

"First of all," said Harry, "attacking me in St Mungos really wasn't the most sensible thing to do. Remember there are many people who mistrust Muggles in the wizarding community. Seeing you go berserk hardly helped the cause."

"I assumed I wouldn't get another chance," admitted Bateman. "Mary said Shacklebolt might be coming to visit me later. I assumed he'd modify my memories again."

"Not without your approval, he wouldn't."

"No? He did last time, remember? I only agreed to have my memories of you erased, nothing else."

"He didn't. I'm not saying that what he did was right, but he did nothing you hadn't agreed to at some point even if you can't remember now"

Bateman made a straining noise and finally said, "I'm shaking my head now."

"Okay," said Harry with half a laugh.

"Listen to me," pleaded Bateman. "You're not ready. You need to face this."

"I'm not prepared to murder."

"I'm not asking you to do that. I want you to kill, not murder."

"It would still be murder, Bear."

"Sometimes killing is the only answer. I'm not asking you to enjoy it. You think I like killing?"

"No, but you are desensitised to it. Tell me honestly, if you could use a wand and do the things you've seen Wizards do, how many of your killings would have been the only answer?"

"Not many, I suppose."

"Exactly."

"Like I said, you're missing the point. That newspaper of yours you were reading. How many victims have been reported in the last day?"

"About the same as yesterday."

"And the day before," added Bateman. "Your enemies are killing people, not merely disabling them."

"They just want to scare people."

"No, they want to eliminate the possibility of them recovering to fight another day. More to the point, you will face an enemy whose first resort will be to kill. Where you will hesitate; they will not. That hesitation may be the difference between life and death."

"That's true, but if I lose that hesitation, can I really claim to be any different from them?"

"Why do you need to claim any such thing? Do you even have the right?"

"It's my life."

"The hell it is! What about all those people who have put themselves at risk for you, Harry? You owe it to them to survive, at least until Voldemort is defeated."

"I never asked," began Harry, but then he stopped himself.

Bateman waited on the floor.

Harry sighed deeply.

"I think even Hermione agrees with you," he said at last.

"No, she doesn't," replied Bateman evenly. "Harry, if you think you'll suddenly become a crazed blood-thirsty maniac, you don't have anything to worry about. It doesn't work that way. You'll never lose your respect for life and the rights of others. I may be desensitised, but I've never killed where I can avoid it. For me, the faces are the worst part."

"Faces?"

"Yeah," said Bateman darkly. "They come in my dreams. I see their faces. There are quite a few now."

"I'm sorry," said Harry.

"Will you release me?"

"Promise not to attack me; or at least go a bit easier on the furniture?"

"Only if you promise to do something for me. Kingsley has received a tip-off and I've invited myself along as part of the reception committee. You can come with us, but there's a catch."

Harry frowned slightly, both curious to know what this reception committee was for and to know how Kingsley had been in touch with him.

"What's the catch?"

"No wands."

*

"There's no point in arguing with me on this, Harry," said Hermione. "I'm coming with you. That's final."

Harry gently stroked her hair to one side and kissed her, smiling at Hermione's unerring ability to talk business at any time, irrespective of the moment.

"We're not allowed wands," Harry reminded her. "That's why Bear and his men are leading the assault."

"Why can't we have wands?"

"Because the place is riddled with detection spells and security wards. Wands will just set them off, apparently. Bear said six Aurors were captured this week just trying to get close enough to see what's going on in there."

"Won't they be expecting another attack?"

"Yes, Bear says they will be."

"What about wand-less magic?"

"How many people do you know who can do magic without a wand?"

"Dumbledore could."

"Yes, he could," agreed Harry sadly. "Apparently Kingsley can't find anyone else he trusts enough to ask along to help."

"So all of the wizards powerful enough to help are either dead or suspected of siding with Voldemort?"

"That's about the state of things," agreed Harry.

"Oh, Harry, what's to become of us?"

"Hey, cheer up, will you?" said Harry, kissing her neck lightly. "Or I'll make you go back to your own room," he added with a grin.

Hermione snorted and pushed him off her. Harry rolled sideways to lie on his back as Hermione climbed over him so their positions were reversed.

"This place seems so empty now," she said wistfully. "I even miss the Dursleys yelling at each other at all hours."

"Well, at least Ron's gone home for a few hours."

"Yes. I'm sure it won't be as bad as he thought it would be. They all love him really."

Harry reached up and found her hand.

"I've decided to tell Ron everything we've learned. I'm also wondering whether I should tell him all about the Fidelius Charm on this place."

"It would show trust," she agreed, kissing his neck.

"And?" he prompted.

"And he already knows so much that the new information won't add much to the damage he could cause if he betrayed us now," she added.

"Exactly. So, are you going to let up on him?"

"Yes, I will now we've made it up. Don't tell him anything just yet, though. Ron will need time to adjust. It's bound to be a bit of a shock."

"Sure," said Harry sleepily.

"Did John and Mary say where they were going?"

"No. I just left them at the drop off point with Kingsley like they asked. I had the impression that Kingsley wasn't too impressed that Bear had more or less taken over the entire operation. He also seemed to have no idea how they came to know anything about the Healer's lair."

Then he added, "What will be a shock, Hermione?"

"Honestly, Harry! The family celebration at the Burrow tonight wasn't to welcome Ron back."

"It wasn't?" Harry said stupidly.

"No, Harry. Ginny was bringing home her new boyfriend. I declined Mrs Weasley's invitation on your behalf, of course. I didn't want any awkwardness to spoil their evening."

"Not that I'm interested, or anything, but who is he?"

"Quite a catch, actually. He's the new Head Boy."

*

Harry trudged along the path for as far as he could go before stepping onto the long wet grass and making his way down the gentle slope to join the small group of people gathered around some tables beside a small group of tents.

He shivered in the cold morning air and pulled his travelling robe tighter around himself.

Seeing Ron away from the main group and sitting in one of the few chairs provided, Harry made his way over to him.

"Hi," said Harry.

"Hi, Harry."

"Where do I get a knife from?" he asked, seeing everyone else had one.

"Hermione's got yours. She's somewhere over there nagging Bateman about something."

"May I?" asked Harry, pointing to the long knife lying on a table next to Ron.

"Sure, help yourself. Fred and George seem to have found a new niche market with these things."

Harry picked up the knife. It was surprisingly heavy but the grip made the knife feel very secure in his hand.

"The blade has an unbreakable charm and the handle has a weak sticking charm too," said Ron. "There's something special about that end bobble, but I wasn't really listening."

"The handle is called the hilt, Ron," said Hermione striding over to them. "That end bobble is called a pommel, actually. Traditionally it is used as a counterweight."

The dull bluish metal blade had a blood grove down one side and was almost ten inches long. Both cutting edges looked extraordinarily sharp.

"Why does it need a counterweight, Hermione?"

Ron jumped up and pulled Harry away from her as Hermione raised her own knife to show him.

"Ron!" cried Hermione with obvious annoyance. "I was only going to show Harry."

"Yeah, well you nearly decapitated me earlier, and I hadn't had a chance yet to warn Harry what a maniac you've become."

"That's a slight exaggeration, Ron," said Hermione.

Harry laughed as Ron pushed him upright again.

"What were you going to show me, Hermione?" asked Harry.

Hermione held the knife up high with the blade pointing directly upwards towards the sky.

"You see this button under the hilt?"

"Um, yes."

"Well, if you push it, the blade extends."

Hermione used her gloved thumb to hit the small metal button. Harry gasped seeing the blade extend a further twelve inches or so transforming it into a formidable looking short sword.

"Press it again to shorten the blade again," she advised. "The pommel adjusts to keep the blade balanced. Here, Harry," she added, sheathing her knife and offering him a wrapped bundle of cloth. "Fred and George made this set up for you. In there you'll find a belt, scabbard and an additional utility knife. They also included a small maintenance kit."

Harry looked down at Ron's knife that he was still carrying.

"Hermione, won't these blades be too magical?"

"You mean, will the wards detect them as well as wands? Yes, I was saying the same thing to John earlier. He says there's no way to tell until we go. We can't chance sending someone to test them out in case they get caught and they break camp early."

"What time do you call this?"

Harry smiled seeing Bateman walking over to them.

"Thanks, Ron," said Harry, carefully returning the knife to him. "Hi, Bear. I'm sorry, but I needed to make sure the Dursleys were okay in their new home."

"Slept in, more like," said Bateman with a grin. "Well, I don't suppose I could trouble you to spend a few minutes learning how to use these new toys?"

Harry smiled and said, "I'm all yours."

"Right. The first thing you are going to do is four laps of the marked field. All three of you, that is."

"What?" cried Ron.

Harry, who recognised that Bateman in full "training sergeant" mode would not be put off, said, "Come on. Let's go."

"Not so fast," said Bateman with an evil grin. "You need to put your equipment on. Harry, you are to wear that nice new belt and all three of you," he added, reaching under the nearest table, "need to carry these."

He handed out three heavy rucksacks. Harry realised they contained different weights to carry because each was carefully labelled.

As they jogged off, Bateman yelled after them, "And mind you don't cut the corners. You are to go around each of the flags. Remember, I've got eyes in the back of my head!"

*

Harry finished his four laps slightly ahead of Ron. Hermione had been called in by Bateman after completing only her first lap of the four flags, so they had no excuse after that to run slowly.

As they circled the others, Harry could see that Bateman had organised the others into pairs. The wizards amongst them fired spells at their partners who attempted to block them with their blades. Harry wondered how many of them would be coming with them on the night.

Before the two of them had finished their runs, Bateman was giving demonstrations of blade fighting to the assembled group. He also invited individuals to come forward to challenge him.

Harry was disappointed not to see more of this. From a distance, the challenges looked very one sided and it was clear to Harry which of the group were better with the charmed blades than a wand.

"Alright," Bateman was saying as they finally approached. "I hope that the Aurors amongst us have seen that using a blade isn't that easy. That's why we won't be taking you with us in the first group, but thanks to you we have begun to get some idea of what it's like to face a wand."

There was a general murmuring of agreement.

"I still say you'd be better taking a couple of Aurors than anyone else," said a wizard Harry did not know. It was obvious that by anyone else he meant Harry and his friends.

"Potter's experience is limited," agreed Bateman, "but he knows our limitations. However, none of them will be going unless I'm satisfied they can look after themselves. Let's have a go, shall we?"

Bateman looked around and said, "Harry, front and centre, if you please." He looked back at the wizard who had questioned Harry's qualifications to be there are said, "I don't suppose you'd care to help?"

The wizard didn't need to be asked twice. He threw off his robe and walked out to face Harry, who had just shrugged off his heavy rucksack.

"Now, let's not kill each other, shall we?" suggested Bateman. The irony wasn't lost on Harry who nodded ruefully back at Bateman.

Harry withdrew his knife and moved about to get used to not being burdened by the rucksack. He suddenly felt rather light on his feet. At the same time he realised that their run had both warmed him up and loosened his muscles.

Finally they were both ready.

"Go," said Bateman at once.

Harry dodged a stunner and then deflected another which flew wildly off up into the air. He leapt forward, closing the distance between them. The wizard fired again but this time Harry anticipated his opponent's movements.

Bringing the blade up like a bat, the third spell was deflected back almost the moment it was fired. With no time to produce a shield, the wizard dodged out of the way and unbalanced himself.

Harry decided to finish the job and kicked out at the back of the wizard's knee, sending him straight down onto the grass. Harry's momentum sent him falling as well, but he had the advantage to knowing how he would fall.

Harry swung the blade down and touched the button inside the hilt. The blade extended at once and Harry lightly touched the wizard's exposed neck with the flat of the blade.

The wizard dropped his wand at once and Harry lifted the blade before getting to his feet. He held out a hand to help the wizard up.

"There," said Bateman loudly over the cheers and clapping, "we saw the limitations of training bouts. Can anyone say where Harry here should have won earlier?"

Hermione raised her hand hesitantly and Bateman nodded for her to answer.

"Harry had an opportunity to cut his wand arm off, or at least damage his wand and hand."

"Indeed," said Bateman.

Harry was horrified at the thought of deliberately maiming an opponent.

"Okay. Ron, front and centre if you please."

Harry followed his opponent out of the circle.

"Thanks for not cutting my arm off," said the wizard quietly with a grin. He extended his hand to Harry and said, "My name's Troope, by the way."

Harry smiled and shook hands. "I'm Harry. You an Auror?"

"Well, not officially. I applied to join the programme a few years ago when I left Hogwarts but was turned down. They approached me again only recently to see if I was still interested. I think the casualties have been quite high."

Harry nodded watching as Bateman interrupted Ron's duel to point something out to his wizard opponent.

He was about to ask Troope something when Bateman stepped back and the duel began in earnest. Ron was surprisingly agile, considering he'd looked half-asleep for most of the morning. He also dispatched his opponent far more easily than Harry had been able to, knocking the wizard out with a blow to the back of his head. In the same movement, Ron had also grabbed the wand he was being attacked with.

Ron's duelling, with or without a wand, had certainly improved significantly.

Finally, Hermione stepped forward looking nervous but determined. Harry was immediately sorry he had not gone back over to offer her some words of encouragement.

"Come on, Hermione!" yelled Ron.

Bateman selected her opponent and as he walked out into the circle to face her, Hermione extended her blade.

"It's Zorro!" quipped someone from Bateman's Muggle contingent, clearly referring to the robe Hermione had decided to retain, unlike Harry or Ron.

"You'll be zorry soon, mate," shouted back Ron, who clearly had no idea at all that Zorro was the name of a fictional sword fighting character.

"That will do," warned Bateman sternly. "Go!"

Hermione was the first to react, grabbing the neck of her robe and whirling it around so that it flew off towards her opponent. She advanced quickly as the wizard fired uselessly at the robe.

Hermione lunged forward, running the extended blade along the wizard's wand wrist and cutting the skin.

"Argh!"

Hermione brought the blade up and cut off a small length of collar.

She then immediately pulled back and lowered her guard.

Furious, the wizard pointed the wand directly at her, clearly intending to fire.

"Hey! She won!" yelled Ron angrily.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Troope, sending the wand flying.

Bateman stepped forward and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. He also shielded her view of her terrified looking opponent being dragged off by two of his men.

"Well done. I couldn't have shown such restraint. Found a book on fencing, did you?" Bateman teased.

Hermione smiled and said, "It was about armour, actually. But it did contain a very interesting contemporary account of short sword use."

Bateman snorted.

Then Hermione's face dropped.

"You won't let me go, will you?"

"No, not in the first group, anyway. You know why," he added gently.

"Why can't she?" protested Ron who had joined them in the centre. Harry didn't say anything, having a shrewd idea why Bateman would not let her join them.

Bateman looked straight down at Hermione and said carefully, "There may well be circumstances where you'd actually be prepared to cut off an arm, but I doubt you'll encounter them any time soon."

Hermione nodded.

"Don't take it as a slight, Hermione. The problem is that you think things through too much."

*

They continued duelling with different partners into the early afternoon. Hermione, having reverted to using a wand, was the only wand carrying wizard not to have been defeated in practise; much to the obvious annoyance of some of the Aurors.

She had blasted the ground Harry was standing on, sending him flying to his easiest defeat. His only other defeat was at the hand of Troope, who had got Harry's measure by the second time they fought.

Ron remained undefeated throughout, and his duel against Hermione was judged to be a draw despite Ron's vocal protests that he had won, if only by the smallest of margins. Harry diplomatically decided not to offer an opinion, although it was a close call anyway.

Just before they finished for lunch, Bateman demonstrated the other more conventional uses for the knives, such as wire cutting. They all had a brief go at throwing the knives at targets but none of them could match Bateman's accuracy.

Harry had managed to hit the target a couple of times, but the knife fell uselessly off having hit with the handle end first.

Ron's throw was so wide of the target that Hermione had to summon it back for him from the long grass it was hidden in.

After sandwiches, they retired to a tent where Bateman briefed them on their mission and announced who he had selected to join the first group.

"Finally, a word about these blades," said Bateman concluding his talk. "Don't be tempted to sharpen them. The Weasleys say that normal whetstone or oil stone will just dull the magical charms. Use the maintenance kits to wipe them clean and polish them. I know it's weird, but there you are. Any questions?"

"When do we start out?"

"The operation will commence at zero-four hundred hours tomorrow. We will all remain here until the commencement and them we have Portkeys to move into position provided the Auror observers give us a green light."

"Why do we need a green light?" asked Ron.

"Shh," hissed Hermione before raising her hand.

Bateman chuckled and said, "Yes, Hermione?"

"I was wondering. Could you take a container of some kind that dulled the effect of the magic? That way you'd be able to take along wands for use later on."

"It's a good idea," said Bateman. "I asked Kingsley about that but he thinks that the charms needed might themselves set of the alarms. To be honest, I didn't really understand what he was saying, but there's a difference between permanently charmed magical objects and wand-magic. He was basically saying that any wand in the presence of a witch or wizard would generate trace magic."

Hermione frowned but nodded.

"The problem is, of course, that we have no time to try something. The best thing I can suggest is that the second group follow up as soon as we breach the camp as planned. You can carry Harry and Ron's wands to them."

*

After dinner, Bateman made sure that Harry and Ron knew the other members of the first group that they were joining. Harry had actually met the four of them previously at the London underground bunker when he and Careem had been detained under Colonel Falcon's orders.

The group's Corporal introduced himself as Grice and reminded Harry that he had fixed his nose after Careem had broken it; something Harry hadn't liked to mention. The other three were introduced as Marland, Parish and Risby.

Like Bateman, they were all stocky and powerfully built, well used to physical exertion. Harry had no doubt they shared Bateman's skills as well.

Bateman made it crystal clear what the chain of command was. Harry and Ron were right down at the bottom, of course, and were made to promise to follow any order they were given without question.

Harry had agreed knowing it made sense as he had the least experience, but at the same time he knew that if anyone would break the chain of command, it would be him. He had the feeling that Bateman knew this as well.

At about eleven o'clock in the evening, Bateman called Harry out to walk with him around the impromptu training camp.

"Harry, I just wanted to say that I'm not expecting you to kill everyone we come across tomorrow. All we have to do is breach the defences. The second group is there to back us up but the real objective is to make things safe enough for the Ministry people to get in and gather the evidence."

"Thanks," said Harry quietly.

"Mind you, if anyone gets killed or injured by someone you could have dealt with, don't expect me to be too happy about it."

"Okay."

"Now, I'll be leading up to the perimeter that we think will be the least well guarded. From then on, you and Ron will take the lead because you know where the magical traps are likely to be. There will be casualties. If either of both of you become disabled, we'll need to go on."

Bateman continued talking along these lines for some time, never showing any emotion in his voice. Much later, Harry would discover that Grice had been giving Ron a similar talking to on the other side of the camp.

They rounded the last tent and Bateman swore loudly.

"Alright 'Arry?"

"Hi, Hagrid," replied Harry with a grin as he emerged from the darkness.

"Hi there, Sarge. This is me little brother. He's called Grawp."

Bateman was lost for words.

"We just came along to say hello, and maybe warm up a little. Herita would have come, but she's got an evening class up at the castle."

They followed Grawp into the centre of the tents where an open fire was blazing away. Grawp reached down and picked up a fallen tree trunk that several of them had used to sit on earlier while they ate dinner. Grawp quickly decided he needed something bigger and marched out into the darkness. He soon returned with a much larger tree.

The sound of Grawp stripping off great branches and throwing them into the fire brought everyone out of the tents. None of the Aurors had even seen a real giant before, although Hagrid's familiar presence certainly helped them overcome any fears they may have had.

-

AN: Only two more Chapters to go. Next: "The Lair."