The Final Lesson
by Jardyn39
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AN: This is the last Chapter. I would recommend that you resist the temptation to read ahead, or you'll spoil the surprise!
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Chapter 29 - Secrets and Lies
Harry looked back at Bateman. He had come out of the Peruvian darkness shadow but was leaning against the passage wall and breathing heavily. Sweat was now pouring off him.
"I'll be fine in a moment," he said reassuringly, but he looked to Harry like he needed more than just a moment to recover.
"Wait here," suggested Harry. "I may have been mistaken about seeing anything ahead. I'll just go and check."
"You know you weren't mistaken," growled Bateman. "Go on then. I'll follow at my own pace. Be sensible, though. Stay out of sight if you can and come back for me if you are outnumbered. I'll be right behind you anyway."
Harry nodded and hurried on down the passageway until he came to a narrow opening which lead out into a brightly lit wider corridor that had a slight incline. Two shiny metal rail tracks were set into the uneven stone floor, presumably to allow the transportation of heavy objects on a trolley of some kind.
He was sure he had fleetingly seen someone run down the corridor, heading downwards. Harry decided to follow in that direction, although his mental map of his current position had him heading way outside the burial mound and he didn't think they were that deep underground.
Several distant bursts of distant gunfire reached his ears, but with all the echoes he couldn't tell at all where it was coming from.
He turned back and realised that the narrow opening he'd just come through was difficult to see if you didn't know exactly where it was. He memorised the look of the corridor at that point so that he could find his way out again before turning and hurrying down the corridor.
At the very end of the corridor there was a wide metal door that had been left ajar. He cautiously pulled the heavy door open and peered inside to see a small lobby with another door ahead that was wide open.
The tracks appeared to go straight through and he could hear even clearer the sound of distant machinery. Then he caught what sounded like echoing voices.
Harry entered the lobby and approached the second door following the wall and gripping his knife for reassurance.
He peered out, keeping low down. The tracks came to a stop and there was a kind of buffer arrangement. Above Harry could see a yellow lifting beam and a winch.
Harry frowned to himself. Both the beam and winch looked very much like the ones Mr Fotherington had proudly pointed out to him during his tour of the Grunnings factory. This winch looked mechanical, though, not like the electric ones at Grunnings. Mr Fotherington had explained that the beam had to be tested insitu and the safe working loads certified and marked on the side of the beam.
At the time he had just nodded politely as Fotherington enthused over numerous features all over the factory. Now Harry stared intently at the beam markings, thinking what the implications were.
If this used to be a Muggle facility, that could explain the presence of the beam. Of course, the beam might have been stolen and then reinstalled here too.
Harry's mind returned to the very first time he had seen the Healer's handiwork. He had stared in total shock as Jack Gurnet stood before him and turned around to reveal Alison Weston. He hadn't been able to look away from their horrendous mutilations.
The mutilations with Muggle stitching.
He was forced to conclude that it was possible that, just as he had Muggle friends working with him and the Ministry, it was also entirely possible that the Healer also employed Muggle assistants.
Harry considered the possibility of Voldemort also using the same tactic, but dismissed it almost at once. No, Voldemort couldn't put aside his prejudices so easily, he was sure.
Harry shook his head, trying to refocus and put aside the distracting images of Jack Gurnet and Alison Weston. He then forced himself to survey the rest of the area beyond the door.
On the other side of the door was an open grille platform with a metal staircase leading down into a wide circular room. There was a simple metal railing with toe guard all around.
The floor of the cavern like space beyond was littered with tables covered with a wide assortment of bubbling cauldrons. On one side, in the only clear area, was a stainless steel autopsy table surrounded by shelves filled with glass specimen containers.
Harry heard a smashing sound and someone below shouted, "Idiot!"
He looked down over the door threshold and could see movement below through the metal grid decking. Two white coated men were pushing an overloaded trolley towards an enormous open fireplace.
As they hit another bump in the uneven stone floor, something else fell off the trolley.
Seeing that they were both fully occupied with the trolley, Harry moved out onto the stair and quickly descended.
"Leave that! We don't have much time," exclaimed one.
"We should leave this and go now," advised his companion, sounding scared. "He'll be here any minute!"
"No, we can't leave anything that incriminates us. Now that the experiment is almost finished, this place won't be needed for much longer anyway. It'll just be abandoned to the Ministry."
"What about him?"
"So what? He's had it coming for ages, the sick b-"
Harry looked out from around the bench he was hiding behind, wondering why the conversation had come to an abrupt halt.
Standing with his back to Harry was a third figure wearing green overalls and blood splattered white rubber Wellington boots. The two technicians were now standing with looks of shear terror on their faces, looking at the tall thin man with medium length grey hair.
"Not leaving, are we gentlemen?" said the third man in a cold voice.
The two floundered to find a response for a long moment, but Harry knew that the third man was just prolonging their torment a moment longer.
"Avada Kadavra!"
The bright green flash enveloped both men and they fell in unison.
Knowing he only had the element of surprise on his side, Harry rushed out.
The wizard wheeled around and swung he wand arm towards him. Harry slashed down with his extended blade slicing right through the wizard's forearm. His hand and wand came clean away. The wand cluttered uselessly on the floor while the limb landed with a dull thump onto the cold stone.
Harry swung the blade again aiming for his neck, but only slashed the wizard across his chest as he fell back. Crashing against a bench, grey eyes looked up at Harry in momentary wonder.
"You!" shouted Harry, quickly bringing the blade back to point directly at his opponent's neck.
"Me," the wizard agreed casually as wide grin appeared on his face. "Unbelievable, isn't it? That's certainly what the Wizengamot will say before they acquit me."
Bright red blood was pumping from his arm now, contrasting with the dried blood all over his green surgical gown. There was an almost overpowering smell of disinfectant about him too that seem to add to Harry's revulsion of this man.
"There must be enough evidence around here to convict you," retorted Harry angrily, fighting an inward battle not to just kill this animal and be finished with it.
"Oh, I shouldn't worry about that," he replied, clutching his bleeding stump to his chest. "I'm beginning to feel a little faint, actually. You should dress my wound if you intend me to survive tonight. Nice blade work, by the way. I prefer using cleavers, myself."
Harry became uncertain for a moment. He was losing an awful lot of blood.
"Who is he?" asked Bateman from the stairs.
Harry looked up with relief for a moment as Bateman struggled down the stairs, supporting himself heavily on the balustading.
"You okay?" asked Harry, not taking his eyes off his prisoner.
"Yeah, but I strained something during our earlier jaunt. So, is this the Healer?"
"At your service," said the Healer with a courteous nod, looking a little white in the face.
"His name is really Ignatius," said Harry. "He's one of the Ministry people that Scrimgeour suspected being a Voldemort sympathiser."
Bateman moved forward to take a better look and Harry saw the blade he was holding by his side. He decided that it was probably a scalpel taken from one of the benches.
"I've been wanting to meet you for so long," said Bateman in barely a whisper.
Ignatius' manic laugh rang out, echoing around the cavernous round space.
"I imagine you have!" he said loudly, before almost collapsing with more laughter. He was becoming paler as he continued to bleed heavily.
Harry reached down to grab Bateman's knife hand as it swept upwards.
"No, Bear. This isn't the way," he pleaded, maintaining his tight grip on Bateman's sleeve.
After a long moment, Bateman nodded.
"Alright, but the moment he tries anything, he's dead. Find something to tie him up with. He'll also need a tourniquet for that arm or he won't make it up to the surface. Did he have a wand you could use?"
Before Harry could answer the great open fireplace roared with renewed vigor and flames leapt high up.
Bateman wrenched his arm free and tried to push Harry back behind some benching before the new visitor stepped out of the green flames.
Ignatius stood motionless for a moment before collapsing to the floor. He was dead, his throat cut expertly by Bateman's knife.
Voldemort surveyed the chaotic scene before him and sighed.
"Well, Muggle," he said icily. "I see that you couldn't wait before administering your revenge. I must admit to a little irritation that he managed to escape Lord Voldemort's punishment."
"Sorry about that," Bateman said sarcastically, the bloody scalpel still in his hand.
"Oh, I don't blame you. I've wanted him dead for some time now myself. Harry, are you going to sulk behind there all night?"
Harry stood and stepped out from behind the laboratory bench.
Voldemort turned and picked up one of the many books from the trolley, apparently totally unconcerned for his own safety. He opened it and leafed through the pages with a look of disdain.
"The Healer was supposed to be working on something for me," said Voldemort lightly. "He kept promising, but it became apparent some time ago that he was really working on his own pointless researches."
He threw the book down onto the floor.
"Nothing but a waste of men and resources. Ah, well. Never mind."
He turned back just as Harry spied where Ignatius' wand had fallen.
"Very well, Muggle. If you have anything further to say to the boy, say it now. I know how close you have become to him. Your death is bound to upset him."
Harry dived for the wand and then pushed his way in front of Bateman.
Voldemort's lipless smile widened as Harry raised the wand; Harry's face was the very picture of utter determination to protect his friend with his life, if he needed to.
"Dumbledore would be so proud, Harry," he said with mock kindness. "Of course," he added with a sneer, "even he might have balked at the sheer scale of your misplaced loyalty."
Harry heard the scalpel clatter to the floor behind him. He had fully expected it to come flying over his shoulder at Voldemort.
Harry turned to look at Bateman.
Bateman leaned back against the bench, suddenly unable to look Harry in the eye.
"What is he talking about?" demanded Harry as Voldemort chuckled.
"Oh, come on, Harry," said Voldemort encouragingly. "Our good Sergeant was so far above suspicion and as he had become your particular friend, it just had to be him. The key moment was when I learned he was to undergo a memory modification. I simply had him captured and reprogrammed him, thus turning a loyal, brave and utterly trustworthy man to my will."
"I don't believe you," said Harry shakily.
"No, I know you don't, Harry. That's what made the whole impossible scheme so worthwhile. I'll allow your little Auror playmates tell you the number of our gains thanks to the golden information provided by the good Sergeant here.
"It was a risk allowing him to retain some free will, I admit, but that autonomy made the whole thing work. Regrettably, that also meant leaving in place his desire for revenge against our Healer there, amongst other things."
"That's why he kept attacking me?" said Harry barely audibly.
"Indeed! His sub-conscious programming told him to hurt you. Of course, he had no idea what he was doing."
Harry shook his head and turned to Bateman.
"What information did you have about the Ministry operations anyway?"
"You're forgetting how resourceful your Muggle friends can be, Harry. They have been monitoring far more than anyone realises, excepting myself of course. Lord Voldemort has never underestimated his enemy's strengths."
"Tell me it isn't true," demanded Harry. "Tell me!" he added angrily as Voldemort burst into laughter, unable to contain his delight at Harry's fury.
Bateman looked up at last and said, "It's true," but he wasn't looking at Harry when he said this.
Harry watched as a smile grew slowly across Bateman's face.
"There's no point in hiding anything now. I'll be dead in a moment, so I might as well tell all. I imagine you'll have to wait for a wider audience, Harry."
"Quite so," agreed Voldemort behind Harry's back.
Bateman paused, as if savouring the moment.
"It all began," he said slowly and deliberately, "when Miss Alice had this insane idea."
"What?" said Harry and Voldemort at the same time.
Bateman's smile widened into a grin and he turned to Harry.
"We knew there was a leak and that there was a very short list of suspects. There were actually only two names on her list, and one of them was mine. Miss Alice knew that since I might be a traitor anyway, we might as well go the whole hog and really make me into one. The other name belonged to poor Harriet, although we were sure she was only being used for confirmation of intelligence accuracy.
"Anyway, once the memory modifications were completed, I operated as a spy for Voldemort. My every movement was monitored and everything I saw was fabricated or censored. Most of the victims that followed had their deaths faked by the task force under the nose of the Ministry, although I'm ashamed to say that more than a couple were killed despite our best efforts.
"My usefulness to his Lordship all but came to an end when I was transferred again and I lost sight of the really sensitive intelligence reports about the Ministry of Magic operations. That was when I broke rank and went in search of Miss Alice.
"It took some time before it was safe to restore my true memories. There were some complications there that we hadn't anticipated, which meant my behaviour became a little erratic at times. Of course, I had no idea what was going on at the time. It didn't really help that Miss Alice's memory was also modified to make her forget her own plan.
"You know, the extraordinary thing was that in order to maintain the illusion, genuine near misses were planned. People actually volunteered to play potential victim just to maintain the deception. More than a few of those brave people died.
"You see, Miss Alice used the information provided by Scenariste and worked out how the Death Eaters selected their next victims. We've had full unrestricted access to the Archive since the raid, so we've been monitoring almost all of the Ministry transactions, including the confidential memos sent between Ministry people loyal to Voldemort.
"You know how much Miss Alice loves cracking codes. Well, our Muggle Task Forces have an army of Miss Alices and banks of computers to decode even the most complex encryptions used. Actually, from what I'm given to understand, even a child could have cracked the best of their codes. Pitiful, really.
"Such was the extent of their knowledge that Miss Alice was able to work out statistically which Death Eaters would be sent to carry out the killings.
"Oh, and yes," he added turning back to Voldemort, "our Muggle Operations Managers have been directing the Aurors for months now in accordance with Miss Alice's protocols, even though they didn't know it. Once we got them away from Ministry control and your influence, it was easy! Your own people have known for ages that they have been losing more and more control of their Ministry powers and were just too afraid to tell you the bad news."
Harry turned from Bateman's smiling defiant face to Voldemort's simmering anger.
"Shame, really. First of all you go and get shot and then you get tricked by us simple Muggles. Where'd it all go wrong, eh?
"Didn't you even suspect why your Death Eater squads had suddenly changed from being barely competent to highly efficient operators? You'll never know just how many of your groups we have infiltrated and have working for us now, will you?"
"You lie!" yelled Voldemort furiously.
"Do I? Why not read my mind?"
"Lord Voldemort always knows!"
Bateman laughed contemptuously and said, "Yeah, right! Like you know where our back-up group is right now? Didn't you wonder where they'd got to?"
"What do you mean, Muggle?"
"Tonight. They would be long overdue if they were coming here with the few of us."
"Where are they then?"
"Let's just say they should be long gone by now, hopefully having caught and cooked a certain fat pet snake!"
"Nagini!"
"Who else?! We're just here as a diversion to the main event this evening. I only brought Harry with me to keep him out of trouble. Okay, so we were wrong in thinking the Healer would call you personally for help, but you were kind enough to come anyway.
"If you hurry, you might still save her from the cooking pot! It'll be the big red one over the fire with a chained down lid. We had it specially made! It even has a message from us Muggles engraved on the side."
Bateman raised his hand in a final obscene defiant gesture.
Voldemort was incandescent with rage. He raised his wand but Harry was quicker for once. His Rodium Hex wasn't as powerful as it would have been using his own wand, but it certainly gave Voldemort a scare. He staggered back and dived into the fireplace again to escape.
"Quick," shouted Bateman, pulling a pouch from a pocket. "We have to throw this powder into the flames. It will stop him returning this way. It's some kind of permanent Floo connection."
Harry grabbed the leather pouch and emptied the contents over the great fire. The flames died at once leaving cold ash in the grating.
He turned back to face Bateman but didn't lower his wand.
"Harry, you need to get out of here now," Bateman barked. "Kill me if you want, but he'll soon be back another way when he finds out I lied about that damn snake of his!"
"What? Where are the others then?"
"Waiting above us, hopefully. Come on, Harry, how on earth would I know where his pet is?"
Harry shook his head and lowered his wand.
*
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. They were in another passageway that led from the circular room. They had hoped it would be a better way out.
"Harry," growled Bateman. "Come on. We need to get out of here."
"Bear, when did your memories return?" he asked seriously.
Bateman smiled and said, "If you can manage to listen and walk, I'll tell you. Otherwise you'll have to wait until we are above ground."
He walked on and Harry groaned and then hurried to catch his friend up.
"Well?"
"You know I woke up in St Mungos?"
"Yes. Madam Pomfrey transferred you from Hogwarts once you were out of danger. I was a bit annoyed with her because it would have been much easier getting Mary in to visit you at Hogwarts."
"Yeah, well Mary was alone at my bedside when I first came round. She quizzed me and realised that your hex, or whatever, had done more than just nearly kill me. It actually wiped away all my memory modifications."
"So, when did her memories return?"
"They haven't, but she worked out what her plan would have been if she had access to memory modifications. She tested me to see if she had actually put such a plan into operation."
"She's even cleverer than I thought," observed Harry.
Then he stopped again and exclaimed, "Hang on!"
"What now?"
"You attacked me! Twice!"
"Yes, I had to keep the act up, didn't I? In fact, Mary wanted me to-"
Bateman froze in mid sentence and Harry looked around in alarm, expecting some foe to jump out at them.
Bateman swore loudly.
"Bear?"
He swore again, and again.
"Er, is anything wrong?"
"I forgot! Of all things, I just had to forget that!"
"What is it?"
Bateman seemed to calm a little and looked at Harry.
"Promise you won't tell Mary? Well, not unless she asks? It's a bit embarrassing, really. I've been teasing her quite a bit about it, and if she found out she'd never let up on me."
"Er, sure. What's wrong?"
"Well, to tell the truth, ninety-nine percent of the plan was all her idea. More, actually, except for one thing. There was this one really clever thing that I thought up all by myself. Worked like a charm, too."
"And?"
"And I managed to forget to boast about it to Voldemort!"
Harry laughed.
"Well, I half hope you've missed your chance."
"Not likely! If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to track down that red-eyed snake and make him listen, just before I rip him in two!"
Harry smiled listening to Bateman's fervent determination, but privately hoping his friend never encountered Voldemort face to face again.
"So, are you going to tell me what this brilliant idea was?" Harry asked as they entered another large room.
Bateman didn't answer.
Harry turned to look at what Bateman was looking at. He then froze in stunned horror. Each of the many beds was covered with a blood stained sheet, each appearing to conceal an unmoving body.
They walked on in silence between the rows and rows of beds, Harry thinking how death had been far too easy a punishment for the Healer.
*
Hermione had maintained her tenacious grip on Harry for over an hour and showed no sign of letting go anytime soon. Harry had suggested they should sneak off when it became clear to him that she wasn't really up for the impromptu celebration Ron had insisted on to mark their safe return.
Abandoned on the floor beside them was the latest edition of the Evening Prophet, detailing the dozens of arrests made of Ministry officials. Kingsley and his Aurors had been very busy that night, after all.
"So, was John lying when he said about infiltrating the Death Eaters?" she said out of the blue.
Harry started, having been content to sit quietly comforting her.
"Er, I don't really know. He wouldn't say when I asked him about that. I assumed he was lying because why else would he tell Voldemort?"
"He actually challenged him to perform Legilimency on him?"
"Yes."
"Maybe they have worked out a way to keep secrets from Voldemort then. Even the mere possibility must be unnerving for him. I bet he's interrogating every one of his people at this very moment!"
Harry smiled and nodded. His scar had been hurting for hours, giving him immense satisfaction.
"I wish I'd seen the look on Kingsley's face when he found out. He thought we were all playing along to his tune."
"He should have known Miss Alice was far too clever for that. She used him mercilessly."
"I wonder who did the other memory modifications? And who gave them that powder that blocked the Floo connection?"
"No idea. I suppose John and Mary will have to go into hiding now," said Hermione. "Voldemort will want revenge."
"I suspect they are planning to raise their profile, actually."
"Oh, dear. Not another plan?"
Harry chuckled.
"Well, you've got to give them credit. Dozens of witches and wizards that Voldemort thought were dead are actively working in secret against them."
"So that's why so many children went missing at the same time."
"Yes, and not even the Ministry knows where they are hiding," Harry added with satisfaction.
"Somehow, I suspect that Professor McGonagall's letters inviting them to attend Hogwarts will still reach them, though."
They were quiet a long moment.
"I think she's finally persuaded him to give up actually going out on those ridiculous raids," said Hermione.
"Yes, Bear mentioned that this evening. He wasn't entirely convinced he was doing the right thing."
"Even though he hurt himself tripping up just because there wasn't any light?"
"Er," said Harry, realising that Hermione didn't know about the fall they had both nearly suffered.
"If you were both doing something stupidly dangerous when he got hurt, I'd rather not know."
Harry kissed her forehead.
"Okay," he said gently.
"Do they know what the Healer was working on for Voldemort?"
"No, but I'm glad you didn't see what the Healer was actually doing."
Harry tensed as a feeling of nausea came over him as he remembered what they had found on their way out. Thankfully, Hermione sensed she needed to steer the conversation away from that.
"So now that you know Ollivander wasn't the Healer, do you know why he was associating with Voldemort?"
"I've no idea," said Harry, after a moment. "But if I get the chance, I'll try to get him to come over to our side again. Ron's duelling has become very advanced under his tuition. I'm going to ask him to honour his agreement with Dumbledore, only with my co-operation, this time. Actually, it might be prudent to find out exactly what that agreement was, first."
Hermione released him and pushed herself up.
"You are going to make things up with Ron, aren't you?" she said seriously.
"He'll be fine, Hermione. I just chose the wrong moment to tell him, that's all."
"You did," she agreed. "I'm glad you realise that, Harry."
"Mind you, looking back, I'm not sure when would have been the right time."
"Er, so why did you decide to do it this evening?"
"Well, I mostly wanted to distract him from seeing Ginny sneak off upstairs with our new Head Boy."
Hermione snorted and said, "He has a name, you know! And when did it become a custom to bow to the Head Boy every time he speaks or comes into the room? Honestly, you and Ron could have given him a break. I wouldn't be surprised if he handed in his badge tomorrow after all your antics."
"Well, we had to make up for lost time," admitted Harry, chuckling. "The other reason was that Luna was there. I wanted her to know too."
"That was nice. I'll let you go down now, if you want?"
"Well unless you are hoping for a last dance with Kreacher, I'm afraid the party may be over by now."
"Shame. Still, at least they'll know where to find us for the next party we have here."
"Not unless I tell them about the Fidelius Charm secret, they won't," said Harry trying not to smile.
"You just said you told them!"
"No, Hermione. You just assumed I told them about that," he said with a grin and pulling her up from the couch and towards the bed.
"Well? What did you tell them, then?"
"Mm?" he asked innocently, leaning in and kissing her neck.
"What did you tell them, and what made Ron go off in a huff?"
"Ron didn't go off in a huff. He just didn't want to hear about your more intimate habits right then."
Hermione spluttered; half with embarrassed indignation and half with laughter.
"Liar!" she said, laughing and pushing him down onto the bed. "I don't have any habits, intimate or otherwise!"
"Really? What about the way you-?"
She silenced him with a kiss.
"And not to mention," he continued doggedly, now shaking with laughter as she wrestled him.
"Where's my wand? I need to perform a silencing charm!"
"Hey, that's what Luna suggested!" Harry managed to say before the pillow hit him.
END
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AN: Well, that's it! Thanks for reading. Once again I've enjoyed reading and responding to your kind reviews.
Sorry for the long wait getting started. I can't promise the wait for the next one will improve, though.
I can't leave Ollivander's unusual behaviour unexplained, so there will be a fourth (and probably final - did I say that before?) part to this series. I've made a good start, but I will need to put this aside shortly due to work commitments.
I'm also determined to finally complete a new short story set post-Hogwarts beginning with Harry and Draco as prisoner and gaoler. Actually, it would probably come a little easier if I came down off the fence and decided which one was the prisoner! Anyway, Ron is definitely the hero this time.
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Update June 2006: This story is now continued in "The Battle Standard." There is a summary here or you can jump straight to the first Chapter, "The Lord Protector", here.