Muggle Summer
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
Chapter 47: Muggle v. Malfoy
Friday , July 6, 5:45am
87 Shaftesbury Avenue
Soho, London
It was with great reluctance that Lucius Malfoy rose from bed and prepared for the day. He bathed, shaved, then dressed in his finest robes (still confident that his glamour charm would hide his attire under the image of a muggle business suit). The Malfoy Patriarch then emptied his emergency cache of money into an ever-expandable bag (that had been left in his safe for just that purpose) and tied it to his belt.
Lucius called for a house-elf to fill the dining room table with a rich assortment of breakfast foods. As he sat there, eating what he hoped was not a last meal, he considered his muggle transportation options for the trip to Salisbury. It would have been so much easier (and quicker) to apparate, but after the disaster at the Ministry, he could no longer trust that the records of his magical transit would be ignored or lost before acted upon.
The thought of that debacle and its aftermath gave Lucius one more opportunity to curse Mulciber's parents for foregoing the contraceptive charm on the night that the idiot Death Eater was conceived. Couldn't have thought to suggest that the Dark Lord order a few of their spies to maintain cover, just in case his plan to take over the Ministry failed, could he? Mulciber, the smart guy from Ravenclaw, with his brilliant scheme that would have vaulted him to the front of the Inner Circle's pecking order had it succeeded. Of course, the Slytherins he was trying to climb over on the way up the corporate ladder would have been cunning enough to plan for a worst case. Unfortunately, though, those same Slytherins were too busy angling amongst themselves for post-victory power…because there was no reason why their undercover operatives shouldn't have been able to hand them the keys to the Ministry of Magic.
But now they were all gone…Edgecombe at Floo, Richards and his crew at MSO, Reg in the Minister's office….all of them. For more than two years Death Eaters had apparated, floo'ed and hurled Unforgivables with the confidence that (so long as they weren't too blatant) their undercover colleagues would watch their backs and cover their tracks at the Ministry. But now, the Dark Lord and those who had escaped the battle had to assume that almost every swish of their wands could be detected and tracked down by those who wished them harm.
This was the reason why Voldemort had ordered his minions to go to ground, and to avoid the use of magic at all costs (at least until they could determine just how vulnerable they really were). This was also the reason why so many survivors of the battle were still injured and in pain; as the "no-magic" order included healing spells, magical potions were the only safe recourse. This had made Snape even more pompous and insufferable, and forced the Death Eaters to forage for potion supplies and gather the funds to pay for them.
And sent Malfoy down the path that had led to where he was presently.
Lucius longed for the good old days (i.e. six weeks previous), when healing spells would have been hidden by the unplottable location of their hide-out. But the goblins had (amazingly) decided to cooperate with the Ministry of Magic and their "seized assets" orders. Reasoning that the Ministry couldn't seize Death Eater assets that they couldn't find, Gringott's had gone to great lengths (and great expense) to collapse the wards that made any piece of real estate owned by a sanctioned land owner unplottable. Fortunately, the crash of these wards was a spectacularly loud event, and Voldemort and his followers had been given enough warning time to leave their suddenly plottable location before the MLE came snooping about.
Efforts to find a suitable hideaway owned by an unsanctioned and unmarked pure-blood sympathizer had been unsuccessful; Malfoy was certain that at least one such place existed, but suspected that knowledge of just who owned that place and where it was located was a secret guarded by a Fidelius charm. As a result, they had been forced to scatter about the countryside, and to stay in locations where their use of magic could be tracked.
About the only silver lining to the sharp downgrade in living conditions was that Voldemort also had to abide by the "no-magic" rule (as best as his own temper would allow). There had only been an occasional lapse into application of the Cruciatus, and each time this happened they'd been forced to quickly move their base of operations to less pleasant locations. Given the conditions of the basement Voldemort now inhabited, Malfoy doubted that he'd be cursed again for his failure, or summoned to that cursing by the Dark Mark's burn….not that there weren't mundane ways for Voldemort to show his displeasure (particularly with MacNair and his axe still around).
Feeling the heft of the money bag tied to his belt, Malfoy decided that he could afford to hire a taxi for the two-hour trip to his Master's lair. He rose from the table, used the loo and combed his hair one last time before taking the lift down to the lobby. He brushed by the house-elf concierge and his wishes that Lucius "have a nice day," and strode out onto the street with a swaggering demeanor that was bolstered (at least for the moment) by the cash that he now carried.
The sidewalk and street were relatively deserted, but not oddly so given the hour and location. He took note of his surroundings only long enough to determine that there wasn't a taxi cab within hailing distance, then turned towards Piccadilly Circus, where he no doubt would have better success. As luck would have it (or so he thought), a car for hire turned onto the street and made it's way towards him not fifteen seconds into his brisk walk. When he hailed it down, the elderly male driver rolled down his window, tipped his hat, and asked,
"Where to, Guv'nor?"
"Salisbury."
"Salisbury as in Salisbury Avenue, Guv'nor?"
"No, you fool…Salisbury as in Wiltshire."
"Oh, well, where do you want to go in Salisbury?"
"I'll have more than enough time to tell you along the way."
"Fair enough, Guv'nor…you do know it will be a steep fare…sure you wouldn't rather I take you to Waterloo Station?"
"Yes, I am aware of the cost, and no, I'd rather enjoy my own company, thank you."
The driver paused as "he" made use of her peripheral vision. She then smiled, and said, "Well if it's solitude you want, Guv'nor, we can help."
Malfoy had just enough time to wonder about the driver's choice of pronouns before he was struck in the back by two darts attached to fifteen feet of wire. A split second later, 50,000 volts of electrical energy traveled down that wire and overwhelmed Malfoy's central nervous system. Dazed, confused, and stripped of all neuro-muscular control, Lucius dropped to the pavement in a heap.
Secret Agent Wally shouted the all-clear once his TASER gun had fully discharged. By that point, Ron and Harry had already leapt from their hiding places and made their way to the taxi. The two teen-aged wizards quickly opened the car's rear door and stuffed the still-trembling body into the back seat. They then climbed inside and sat on top of Malfoy's body as a still-disguised Tonks slid over to the passenger seat. Wally jumped behind the wheel and sped away, leaving Hermione and her parents behind to explain away the questions of potential eyewitnesses. Fortunately, their governmental ID's were enough to avoid the need for memory charms.
As soon as Wally turned the corner, Tonks reached into the glovebox and handed Harry a syringe full of muggle sedative (which stopped Lucius's squirming just as well as any magical stunner). She then crouched down in her seat and covered herself with Harry's invisibility cloak. Five minutes later, Wally pulled the taxi into the delivery bay of an unused warehouse.
Once the garage doors closed, Harry and Ron quickly dragged their prisoner's body out of the taxi and into the back of a waiting lorry. They stripped Malfoy's body bare, bound him in muggle handcuffs and ankle chains and had Tonks cover his body with the invisibility cloak. Ron then stuffed the clothes, the money bag, and Malfoy's wand into Harry's expandable rucksack and badge-jumped to Windsor Castle. Meanwhile, Wally and Steve had used their Art Club badges to trade places (Steve had remained at the Palace with the Queen), and Tonks changed her physical appearance from an elderly taxi driver to a gangly teenaged boy. Steve and Tonks then jumped into the lorry's cab, and drove back out onto the street as Harry held the bay doors open. Harry then closed the garage doors, drew his wand, and shrank the taxicab down to the size of a child's toy.
Other than the badge-jumps, it was the first bit of detectible magic that they had used all morning.
Harry pocketed the car and, after double-checking the area, used Sir Evan's anchor point to join Ron within the Round Tower. Thirty minutes later, Steve and Tonks arrived at Windsor Castle in the lorry, carrying with them the first prisoner to be held in the Castle for more than three hundred years.
+++
Thirty minutes later, Emily Granger was washing up after her all-night vigil when she heard her husband enter their ground-floor apartment.
"Honey," Roger called out, "do you know where my surgery kit is?"
"Erm, it's in one of those boxes we've got stored in the tent, dear, why?"
A minute later Roger entered the bathroom holding his kit in one hand and a large pair of dental pliers in the other. "Thanks dear…the kids need some help with the prisoner."
"Really?" his wife asked. "What kind of help?"
"They just found another portkey."
"But I thought the plan was for them to do the strip search in town?" Emily asked.
"They did," Roger replied. "But then they decided to get out their magical dowsing rods to do a body cavity search."
Emily squirmed at the thought. "And they needed to use those rods instead of their wands?"
Roger snorted. "Yeah, Harry said he draws the line at sticking his wand up troll nostrils."
Emily squirmed some more and asked, "So they found something that requires dental tools to extract?"
"Erm, well, actually yes," Roger replied.
"So how would an evil wizard keep a portkey stuck up his...?"
"Relax, Emily…wrong body cavity."
"What?"
"Hermione says Mr. Evil Wizard had one of his molars charmed as a voice-activated portkey."
"Oh, well, then…I guess your kit would come in handy." Emily then glanced into her husband's bag and noticed something missing. "Not planning on using Novocain, Dear?"
Roger gave Emily a hard look. "This Malfoy is good friends with the wizard that tried to cut Hermione down in the Department of Mysteries."
Mrs. Granger nodded. "I didn't think so."
+++
11:30am
Somewhere Hidden in Wiltshire
Voldemort knew better than to ignore the latest message from Gringott's. Not willing to risk another semi-public dressing down, he ordered his followers (save for Nagini) to leave him alone in his ersatz basement-level chamber.
This new message was wrapped in a manner more boring, but less bloody, than the last. Within the cardboard box was a small red gemstone. Having seen these types of missives before, Voldemort placed the stone down on top of a low table and touched the top facet with his wand tip. A translucent purplish beam of light sprung from the crystal and resolved into a pensieve-like monochromatic image of a dozen goblins, facing him from behind a wide table.
"Hear now, Voldemort, nee Riddle, the recorded words and the ruling of the Grand Goblin Council!" cried out the image sitting at the table's center.
Voldemort scowled at the cheek of these goblins to order him around. Unfortunately, having recently lost three-fourths of his wizard minions to death, injury or capture, scowling was about all that he could do to them.
"You and yours have ignored our previous warning, and dared destruction of the veil of secrecy that protects the magical world," said the goblin. "Your minion Lucius Malfoy attempted another robbery of a muggle bank, this time through use of an Imperious Curse."
"Bugger!" Voldemort muttered to himself, "That insolent idiot!"
"We await word on the extent of damage before passing final judgment," the goblin continued. "In the interim, we require Lucius Malfoy's head on a stake, to be placed in front of Gringott's Diagon Ally branch as warning to those whose actions risk ruin for our world. Do this before the sun rises on the morrow, or your warning will be made much worse."
The image sputtered out, leaving the Dark Lord alone with his thoughts.
"Rookwood!" he shouted.
The sound of clumping footsteps traveled through the basement as the former Unspeakable climbed down the stairs to attend his Master.
"Yes, My Lord."
"I have need to summon Malfoy."
"Yes, My Lord, you wish me to bring the car around, then?"
Voldemort scowled at the inconvenience.
"Yes, Rookwood."
+++
The area around the village of Avebury had one of the highest ambient magical energy levels within all of Britain. The stone circle, of course, had something to do with this; back in its heyday the ancient megalith was almost as effective as a wizard's wand when it came to focus. Avebury's megalith was neither as large nor as powerful as Stonehenge, of course, but it also wasn't as popular with tourists (both muggle and magical). This made it an ideal location (particularly when the weather was dark and stormy) for the discrete wizard who wished their spell use to be lost in the background.
Augustus Rookwood had been an Auror before being recruited by the Department of Mysteries, and had been trained to drive muggle automobiles. As one of the few Death Eaters with this skill (and the only one within Voldemort's Inner Circle) he had been pressed into service as the Dark Lord's personal driver once apparition became traceable. It was therefore his job to ferry his Master from their current hide-out to Avebury. It would have been a better job if he'd been able to find a magically-resistant car with more headroom, but such was his current lot in life.
The Death Eater parallel-parked his Cooper Mini after a twenty-minute drive, and then scouted the area on foot whilst wearing a "notice-me-not" charmed cloak. Not finding any security threats, he returned to the car and gave his similarly-dressed Master the all-clear. After Voldemort climbed out of the passenger seat of the automobile the two wizards walked thorough the driving rain into the center of the circle, where Rookwood bared his left arm for the Dark Lord's use. As Voldemort dug the tip of his wand into the Dark Mark, he cast the summoning spell that focused on a single Death Eater, rather a blanket summons that called all who were marked.
Rookwood could tell by the scowl in his Master's voice that Lucius Malfoy wasn't going to be making a social call.
+++
1:00pm
Round Tower, Windsor Castle
Malfoy's Dark Mark had been burning for more than hour by the time the sedative that Harry had injected wore off. It was by no means a nice way to regain consciousness.
Metal manacles stopped Lucius's attempt to grab his Mark with his right hand, and leg irons kept him from running to find relief. He cried out from the pain that came from both arm and mouth, only to find his cries muffled by bloody cotton gauzing. After another painful cry (this time it was more a cry of alarm), Lucius used his tongue to confirm that his mouth was short a few molars; a quick failed apparition attempt then confirmed his fears that his escape routes were rather limited.
Malfoy collapsed back down to the ground, and fought through the painful throbbing in his arm and lower jaw to assess his surroundings. He was dressed in muggle clothing and held in a windowless stone-walled cell. His muggle arm and leg manacles were chained to the wall, and a tunic-clad house-elf was carefully watching him with arms crossed over his chest.
"Dobby!" Malfoy mumbled through the gauzing. "Get me out of here."
"Bad Wizard forgets he gave Dobby clothes. Dobby is Free Elf, now," the house-elf replied. Dobby then popped out of the cell, leaving Lucius to consider just how much more pain he could take from his Dark Mark.
A minute later Malfoy heard the jingling of keys, and the door to his cell opened. Harry Potter then confirmed Malfoy's worst fears by entering the cell with a wand in his hand and evil smile on his face.
"Good afternoon, Lucius, did you have a nice little kip?"
Malfoy's cursing was muffled by the cotton.
"Oh, sorry," said Harry, "Let's see if the bleeding has stopped." He aimed his wand at Malfoy's mouth and banished the bloodied gauze. "It that better?"
Lucius decided on the silent treatment, so that he could focus all of what energy he had on pain management.
Harry snorted, then asked. "Say, is there a reason why your Dark Mark is all splotchy and purplish?"
Malfoy said nothing in response, other than "I want to see my solicitor."
"Oh really?" Harry asked. "Do you have a muggle solicitor?"
"Why would I need one of those?" Malfoy spat out.
"Because you were captured by muggles, using muggle means," replied Harry. "And despite the fact that you're being watched over by a house-elf and prevented by wards from apparating away, you are being detained at the muggle Queen's Pleasure."
Malfoy's attempt at witty repartee was hampered by the need to spit out the mouthful of blood that had gathered.
"Oh, sorry about the dentistry," Harry replied. "Wouldn't do any good for you to use that portkey, would it?"
"That would depend on your perspective, Potter."
Harry smiled and gave Malfoy a polite round of applause. "Oh, well done, Lucius, that was almost as snarky as Snape."
Malfoy instinctively knew it would be pointless to try and take a swing at Harry, but made the attempt anyway. He quickly wished that he hadn't moved his left arm.
Harry's smile grew even more evil as he noticed Malfoy's pain. "Quite a predicament you appear to be in, Lucius…your Master wants you to visit him, doesn't he?"
"Of course, you insolent brat," Malfoy spat back.
"How much longer before the burning drives you mad?"
Malfoy stayed silent.
"Oh come, now, Lucius…I might be able to help if you were a little more candid."
Malfoy glared at Harry. "You'll get nothing from me, and the Mark will kill me before I talk."
Harry chuckled. "Oh, that's nothing we didn't already know. Based on what Dobby has told us, we're quite certain that you are resistant to Veritaserum, and that we couldn't trust a word that you said." He then cocked his head and asked, "But are you that willing to die for your Master?"
"Doesn't look like you are going to give a choice," Malfoy shot back.
"Ah, but there's where you are wrong," Harry replied. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a long strip of fabric, and, after a Petrificus Totalus spell ensured Malfoy's cooperation, wrapped the fabric around his upper left arm. A second reach into Harry's rucksack produced a foot-long piece of wooden dowel, the end of which Harry tied into the knot of fabric.
"I know you don't think too much of muggles," Harry said during this process, "but I think you would be amazed at just how smart they are. For instance, did you know that muggles have discovered a way to remove a Death Eater's dark mark?"
Harry stepped back once he finished wrapping what was now a loose tourniquet and admired his handiwork. He then cancelled the petrification spell, and reached into his rucksack for a hacksaw.
Malfoy drew in his breath at the sight.
"It'rather brutal, I'll admit," said Harry, "but if the choice is death or the sound of one hand clapping…."
"What!" Malfoy shouted. "You're really going to cut my arm off?"
"Oh, no, no, no, Lucius," Harry replied (his smile never having left his face). "You should remember that you are in muggle custody….muggles don't do that sort of thing to their prisoners…it would be cruel and unusual punishment."
As a fresh wave of pain shot up from his Dark Mark, Malfoy spat out, "Then what are you going to do with that saw?"
Harry smiled. "Why, give it to you, of course."
He made good on his word and levitated the hacksaw into Malfoy's grip.
Harry then noted, "Just because I can't lop off your arm to save your life doesn't mean that you can't help yourself."
As he used his wand to magically lengthen the chain that held Malfoy's right arm, Harry said, "So what do you think, Malfoy, do you have what it takes? Do you have the same kind of courage that a muggle would display in your situation?"
"That's ridiculous," Malfoy stammered. "No muggle would be strong enough to cut off his own arm."
"Ah, but there's where you are wrong," Harry replied with a smile. "A couple of years ago over in the States, a muggle hiker out on his own in the wilderness got his arm trapped between some rock. Waited days for help, but nobody came. So rather than die of dehydration, the muggle cut off his own arm."
"Preposterous."
"No, it's the truth," Harry replied. "Of course, all he had was a pocket knife for the job…that hacksaw should cut through bone way faster."
Malfoy looked down at his throbbing Dark Mark, and then over at the saw held in his right hand.
Harry interrupted his decision-making process. "But maybe you need a role-model closer to home?" he asked.
When he caught Malfoy's eye again, Harry simply said, "Pettigrew."
Lucius's eyes went wide at the thought. He asked, "Not planning on giving me any pain potion?"
Harry shook his head and clucked. "Sorry, Lucius, but you might have heard…there's a run on healing potions these days."
He then made his way to the door. Just before leaving, he turned and said slyly, "Besides, Lucius…Wormtail didn't need any pain potion when he cut off his hand in order to summon his Master. Do you really need any to avoid your Master's summons?"
The jail door slammed shut, leaving Malfoy alone with his choices.
Outside, Harry let out a deep sigh and cast a reinforcing Silencio on the cell door and walls. He said a silent prayer that Hermione wasn't there to hear his little speech, afraid that she might think he was turning too Slytherin.
Sir Evan came up to the door and asked, "So how long do you think he'll last?"
"I don't know," Harry replied. "Depends on how much pain he's learned to tolerate under his Master's care."
When Harry shuttered at more thought of what he'd just done, a small set of arms appeared and wrapped themselves around his leg. "No worries, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby. "You are a great wizard. Bad Master doesn't deserve your help keeping him alive."
"Yes, I know, Dobby, but thanks," Harry replied. He then paused, and asked, "Dobby, thank you so much for coming to help me today."
"Dobby is honored to help the great Harry Potter, sir" the house-elf replied.
Harry smiled and asked, "Dobby, my friend, would you be willing to help me with another task?"
Dobby's eye's went wide. "The great wizard Harry Potter calls Dobby, friend?"
"Oh, of course, Dobby…because you are."
Dobby's eyes watered and he burst out into tears as he once again hugged Harry's leg. "Dobby would do anything for his great friend Harry Potter, sir."
Harry smiled as he crouched down to Dobby's eye-level. "Dobby, there's a couple of very good reasons why we need your former master alive, and that means that somebody has to watch over him to make sure he doesn't bleed to death. I don't think that I'm strong enough to watch him cut off his own arm…would you be willing?"
While Dobby's command of the Queen's English was limited, his sense of poetic justice was anything but… as a Malfoy house-elf, Dobby had lost count of the number of times he had been forced to physically punish himself. The house-elf gave Harry a face-splitting smile and nodded his head vigorously. "Dobby would like to help."
Harry smiled and patted Dobby's arm. "I thought you might be willing." He then reached into his rucksack and produced a pair of omnioculars.
"And while you're there, would you also be willing to record the event?" Harry asked as he handed the glasses to the house-elf. "We should make sure that Malfoy's master knows just how truly loyal he is."
Dobby smiled, nodded his head, and then popped away to his vigil.
+++
1:30pm
10 Downing Street, London
Having spent his lunch hour practicing the use of quill and ink, the Prime Minister was able to manufacture a splotch-free signature upon the official letter that Hermione had prepared. As she dusted the page and rolled up it up for a wax seal, he asked, "Are we prepared for the consequences should the Ministry not act upon this notification?"
Hermione nodded. "I believe so, sir. The goblins are confident that any intervening international body would be better than what's there now, and we do have the support of quite a few junior staff at the Ministry."
"Are we prepared, then, if the Ministry does act in self-preservation?"
Hermione smiled. "As I noted in my briefing document, Harry and I believe there to be significant gains for the muggle world in either event."
It was the Prime Minister's turn to smile. "Well let's send this off straight away, then."
Hermione nodded, wrote an address on the outside of the message, then turned her attention to the newest full-time resident at 10 Downing Street.
"Beckham, we've got some work for you."
A large male Great Horned Owl swooped down from his perch in the corner of the Prime Minister's office and silently landed on his desk. Hermione showed the Prime Minister how to attach his message to the owl's outstretched leg, then opened the window.
"We're not expecting an immediate response, Beckham," Hermione said, "so you can fly back straight away from your delivery."
The owl bobbed its head up and down, and then gracefully flew out the window.
+++
3:30pm
The Round Tower
Windsor Castle
Harry was up in his Round Tower quarters reading an advanced charms textbook when Dobby suddenly appeared with a pop.
"Come quick, Mr. Harry Potter, sir. The Bad Master is all bloody and has fainted dead away."
Harry quickly called for Roger Granger's help. Harry ran down the stairs as Roger ran up, and they met in the middle in front of Malfoy's cell. They entered a blood-splattered cell and found Lucius's severed arm on the floor, while blood spurted through an opened artery where that arm used to be attached.
"Bloody fool didn't tighten the tourniquet!" Roger yelled, as he ran to tighten the knot with the wooden rod. Harry, thinking that he may have forgotten to show Malfoy how the muggle first aid device worked, used a freezing spell on the stump to staunch the flow of blood. He then took in the Death Eater's deathly pail complexion, and asked Dobby to retrieve some blood replenishing potions. The house-elf immediately popped away to an adjacent cell, which had been converted into a magical dispensary of sorts. He returned with three bottles of potion, which Harry quickly forced down the Death Eater's throat.
Not sure whether he had reacted correctly, or in enough time, Harry badge-called for Tonk's help. The young Auror jumped to Harry's location, and after a quick assessment cast a spell that fully cauterized Malfoy's wound.
After ensuring that their prisoner would survive, Tonks asked Harry what had happened. He quickly recapped his conversation with Lucius, then reached down to the floor and retrieved the omnioculars from where Dobby had dropped them.
"Bloody harsh," Tonks said, after she reviewed the recorded images. "He was using the saw to try and cut through his manacles, and didn't switch over until the Dark Mark was all bloody and oozing…want to look?"
Harry and Roger both politely declined. Harry did, however, suggest the name of someone who might be interested in the images, and asked if Tonks would deliver a recording of the image. The metamorph smiled as she used her wand to get an image dump.
"Harry, I can't decide whether this is the greatest prank you've ever pulled, or your most Slytherin stunt."
Harry gave her his best "sweet and innocent" look. "What?" he asked. "Don't you think that the public has a right to know?"
Tonks shook her head. "Don't ever let me get on your bad side, Harry," she said. She then used a quick party-line badge-call to find an Art Clubber not currently located within an anti-apparition zone. The best she could find was the back of the Weasley Twins's joke shop. She jumped, then slipped out the back door just far enough to apparate away to her final destination.
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