Muggle Summer, Wizard's Fall
Author's Note: So it's back to this story, then. I'm holding the muse hostage, and forcing her to help me finish off this story. This 12,000 word update is slow-moving, but if you remember there was a bit of excitement in the previous chapter.
And if you don't remember? Well, one of the things that I did during the hiatus is reread the story three times. Did a bit of a rewrite along the way. Reorganized, combined, edited…lost 30,000 words in the process. I've published the rewrite using Google docs, and if anyone wants to take a look, here's a Muggle Summer Portal link. Along with the rewrite is a new org chart that shows how the Ministry of Magic was reorganized after Ascot and the Ministry Intern Program.
Those readers not familiar with the real life Scottish Parliament complex might want to look at on-line pictures of the structure before reading the first section of this chapter.
A gentle reminder about the pushed-up timeline…this story takes place in the summer of 2006, after Harry's Sixth Year. So the references to Basra and the Iraq War are at least internally consistent with the timeline.
Thanks to clell, FenrisWolf, grenouille, for their beta work on this chapter.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.
Warning: There is brief mention of off-camera rape/sexual assault in this chapter.
Chapter 63: The Home Guard, Holland, and Hogsmeade
Wednesday, July 11, 3:00pm
Palace at Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh, Scotland
That Rongo the Maori Sorcerer wasn't much of atalker didn't mean that Harry Potter suffered for lack of conversation asthe twomonitored the aftermath of the Garden Party assault from the Palace rooftop.
Hermione had returned to London to brief the Prime Minister, and was using her Art Club badge to ask for updates as she presented a hastily assembled brief. Wally used Harry's MI-5 ¾ issued earpiece to ask for advice as he led the Muggle incident commanders who were minding the Ministry Obliviators and sanitizing the field of battle. Chatter over the handset of anEMP-hardened walkie-talkie that hung around Harry's neck tracked the Army's evacuation of the Queen to Balmoral Castle via helicopter gunship. And the mobile phone with "push-to-talk" capabilities that was clipped to Harry's sporran was constantly going off, as the TPOMS squadron and thosewho were repairing the Parliament building phoned in.
Rongo found the cross talk across different platforms amusing, and took pity on the Queen's Wizard by pointing towards whichever device was screaming for Harry's attention at any point in time.
Chirp-chirp
"Harry?"
The distracted wizard followed Rongo's finger pointing, and pulled his mobile from his belt.
"Potter here...go ahead Fred."
"We think that we're done repairing the party-mint building, but...can you get the fog lifted so that we can check our work?"
Harry turned towards Rongo, and got a head nod confirmation that he had heard the request.
"Copy that…should have what you need in a few seconds."
As Rongo communed with the clouds and arranged for the fog to lift, Harry looked across the street to where Rookwood's Reductos had done damage. The revealed structure appeared to be whole, but did not look quite right. All of the odd angles and "organic" asymmetrical elements of the complex that had been compared to "a scattered heap of leaves and twigs" were gone, and replaced by rectilinear lines and boxy shapes.
Harry swore under his breath. Or at least he thought it was under his breath, until Hermione frantically asked over thethe open line on his Art Club badge, "What's wrong, Harry?"
"They've fixed the Parliament building a little too well, I'm afraid."
"What do you mean?"
"Hold on, Hermione...Fred?"
"Yeah, Lord G?"
"What in Merlin's name are you doing over there...it doesn't at all look like it's supposed to."
"It isn't?"
"No, it isn't...weren't you using Reparos?"
"Erm...yeah, we were, but we thought they weren't working right, because there were all of these curves, and odd angles andoose ends."
"Fred?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"There were supposed to be curves, odd-looking angles and pieces hanging out in strange places."
"Really?"
Harry sighed, and called Wally with a request to have somebody who knew how the Parliament building was supposed to look like sent across the street. He thenturned towards Rongo, only to find that he was already bringing the clouds back down.
"Thanks," said Harry. At the sight of the Maori's head shaking, he added, "Yeah, I thought it looked better after Fred's improvements as well."
"Lord G?"
"Go ahead, Wally."
"The Japanese Wizard that's been fixing up the trees has something he wants you to look at."
"Roger that, Wally," he replied, as he reached for his rucksack. "Alert air control that I'm going to fly down."
"Going to ride side-saddle on your broom?"
Harry snorted as he looked down at his bright red kilt. There was ample opportunity to tease Wally, but it wasn't the right place or time.
"Just do it, Wally."
The Queen's Wizard ignored the witty retort as he pulled a full-sized broomstick from his never-full rucksack, shouldered the pack, and swung a leg over the broom handle.
It was a more of a controlled fall than flight as Harry swooped down to the Emperor's Wizard's position in front of the man-eating tree. As he jumped to the ground, he asked, "What's up, Sensei?"
Matsuhisa chuckled at the younger wizard's salutation and pointed towards a wand that lay at the base of the tree.
"I was repairing the arrow damage when I spotted that."
Harry nodded.
"Wonder if it was dropped by our tree climber?"
"Would you like to find out?"
"Erm, sure…do you have a way to determine spell usage from a wand?"
"No," the Shinto priest replied, "But I can ask the tree to spit out its food."
Harry looking up at the tree's limbs and decided, "Let's make sure that the ground is cleared of evidence first."
A sweep of the area revealed nothing of interest, other then a Muggle candy bar wrapper that, according to Matsuhisa, displayed a weak magical aura. Thinking that rather odd, Harry -called Tonks, who had been sorting through the personal effects of the dead and captured Death Eaters at Edinburgh Castle. She badge-jumped to Harry's location and confirmed that the attackers also had charmed candy wrappers in the pockets of their robes. Afraid that it might be a touch-activated portkey to the bottom of the sea; Tonks levitated the wrapper into an Auror-issue evidence bag.
"Are you ready for the…how do you say that which a cow chews on?" asked the Japanese wizard.
Harry snorted as he and Tonks took more than a few steps away from the tree trunk.
"Cud," he then replied.
Not wishing to be in the splatter range himself, the Emperor's Wizard moved to the back side of the tree to avoid the mass of pulpy flesh and shattered bone that fell to the ground.
"Thanks," said Harry, as he tried not to flinch at the smell. He picked up a stick and started to poke at the body, before realizing where that stick likely came from. Harry paused, and nodding up towards the tree asked, "Would it be upset that I'm using this branch?"
The Japanese wizard smiled thinly and shook his head. "It is polite of you to ask, but the spirit within the tree has no sense of ownership or connection to its severed parts."
"Good," replied Harry, as he poked into the collapsed chest and fished out a pair of omnioculars.
"Looks like the protective charms on the object worked a little too well for this bloke," Tonks noted. She then used Scourgify on the omnioculars before lifting them up to her eyes.
"Are they still operable?"
"I think so," Tonks replied, after twisting the various knobs and levers. She then added, "It would have been nice if they'd been….yes!"
Tonks passed the viewing device over to Harry and said, "There's recorded playback…shows what the DEs were looking at before they attacked."
The Queen's Wizard immediately put the viewing device from his eyes.
"Palace in the background…Parade Grounds in between…."
Harry lowered the omnioculars and looked to the East.
"From one of those houses beyond the grounds, I'd wager," he announced. The charmed field glasses were then raised once more, and Harry fiddled with the adjustments until the omnioculars offered a magnified field of view.
"Damn," he muttered. "Some of those houses have swing sets in their rear gardens."
The Queen's Wizard threw the omniocular's carrying strap over his head and yelled "Up!" at his broomstick. One leg was over the handle before Tonks had the chance to grab his arm.
"Where do you think you're going, Harry?"
"Need to find out which house, Tonks…Death Eaters and children's toys aren't a good combination."
"But it could be a trap!"
"You think that they'd use a nearby location for a safe house to escape to?"
"Erm…."
"That's what I thought."
"But…it could be a booby-trap. Don't go half-cocked on your own…you've got people."
"And they're all busy…well, most of them are."
Tonks rolled her eyes and hiked her Potter plaid skirt up to her thighs.
"Scoot up, then, and at least pull-up short so that I can check for trip-wire wards," she demanded, as she jumped onto the broom behind Harry.
Expecting the need to also placate the Emperor's Wizard, Harry turned…and spied a snow monkey standing where Matsuhisa had been.
Too anxious not to take the transformation and the monkey's jump onto his shoulder in stride, Harry shook his head and warned Wally that he was making another flight. He then told both Tonks and the monkey to hold on tight as he sped across the Parade Grounds.
With the wind rushing past his ears, the Queen's Wizard didn't hear Wally's frantic calls out to the Muggle defensive units not to fire as he buzzed by their heads.
oo00OO00oo
3:30pm, Amsterdam Central Station, Amsterdam, Netherlands
Percy Weasley's treatment in the hands of Dutch immigration officials had less to do with where he was from than how he arrived…wearing only in Y-fronts.
More than a few foreign wizards had heard wild stories about beautiful Dutch Muggle women with loose morals, and traveled to the Netherlands in search of a good time. Having arrived at the portkey terminal dressed only in his shorts, Percy just seemed more eager than most.
Much of the Dutch magical community didn't care for the stereotypical stories…it led to Dutch witches being harassed almost as much as their Muggle counterparts, and created all sorts of breach of secrecy issues within Amsterdam's Red Light District. But there were many within the country who profited from this type of "vacation travel," so the Dutch Ministry of Magic had long ago come upon a practical compromise. Sex-starved foreign wizards were allowed into the country, but only if they paid a dear price.
There were port arrival tariffs, visa processing fees, costly medical examinations, mandatory tuition payments for a "Muggle sex world orientation" class, required currency exchanges as horrific exchange rates…the list went on and on. Sex-junket wizards had to wear a magical tracking bracelet, so that they would be linked to any attempts to magically coerce Muggle women, or to memory charm prostitutes into thinking that they'd already been paid. And most dear, from a financial standpoint, was a 5,000 galleon "departure deposit," refunded only if a wizard left the country within the visa-permitted time window and through a sanctioned immigration station.
The Special Assistant to the Minister's Diplomatic Passport only helped so far…he would have been able to avoid almost all of this hassle, but only if he had voluntarily answered questions about his reasons for travel whilst under Veritaserum. That wasn't an option for him, so three hours and several thousands of galleons later, Percy was escorted out into the Muggle part of Amsterdam's Central Station, dressed in an ill-fitting (and terribly overpriced) tracksuit and trainers.
Percy headed straight towards the head of a rank of cars for hire, handed a written street address to the driver, and climbed into the rear bench. The focus he gave towards the Muggle buskers and bicyclists that he spied out the side window was lost when the red-haired wizard realized that the car was heading towards the Red Light District, despite his written requests. He complained loudly, only to be told that the street address that he'd given was in the very heart of the Gedoogzone. That shut Percy up, enough that he didn't bother to argue when the driver demanded twice what was recorded on the fare box.
The small row house looked like most of the others on that street…except, of course, for those buildings that had large street-level windows framed with red neon, and scantily-dressed women trying to entice customers from the other side. A man on a mission, the Special Assistant to the Minister resolutely ignored the ample display of Muggle flesh and focused instead on the small sign that was placed in the house's window:
Vanderwood and Son, Charms Masters
Fine Hiders of Infidelity Since 1325
Wondering what exactly the sign meant, but taking note of the name and words "Charms Masters," Percy knocked on the door, and was quickly shown into the study of the a white-bearded wizard who looked almost as old as Dumbledore.
The Dutchman quickly sized up Percy and asked, "Muggle vows or magical?"
"What?"
"Was your marriage ceremony Muggle or magical, son?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Percy huffed. "I am not married."
"Then why in Merlin's name are you trying to keep your whoring secret?"
"Who said that I…there must be some misunderstanding, sir, I am Percy Weasley, Senior Assistant to the British Minister of Magic. I am here on official business…and certainly not here to do any sort of whoring."
"What business is that, then?"
"The Ministry has need of someone who can cast the Fidelius Charm."
"So it's the Minister of Magic who has been cheating on his wife, then?"
"No, no, no…the Ministry has need, not the Minister."
"Well, why didn't you say that, then?"
"I thought that I just did."
The old wizard rolled his eyes.
"Not that it matters," said Percy, "but why did you begin this conversation by asking how I might have been married?"
"Because there's a price difference, my boy."
"How is that?"
The wizard snorted. "Do you know anything about how the Fidelius Charm works?"
"Of course I do," Percy snapped back. "It keeps something secret within the body of a Secret Keeper."
"So you can cast it, then?"
"If I could, then I wouldn't have needed to travel this far, would I have?"
"So why can't you, boy?"
"Because….well, it doesn't matter, really."
"Don't they have Charms Masters in Britain? Flitwick is still alive and kicking, isn't he?"
"Erm, yes…the Ministry needs to keep its need to protect a secret…well, secret."
"Right, well…let me give you a free tutorial, then," huffed the wizard. "The main reason why any old 'Joe the Wizard' can't cast the Fidelius is that it requires a tremendous amount of effort and intent to pulled the secret away from the rest of the world, and to bury it within a single person. The more people that know what's to be kept secret, and the more magic there is that would resist it, the harder it gets."
"So…if I wanted to keep secret the fact that I've cheated on my wife, it'd be more difficult to do so if there were magical marriage vows getting in the way? Or cost more if I told my friends first?"
The wizard let out a deep sigh. "Finally, I thought I'd have to write off all of Britain as hopeless idiots."
"Here, now," huffed Percy. "There are many, many brilliant people working at the British Ministry of Magic."
"I see, so you're not representative, then?"
"Erm, right."
"Thought not," the wizard said with a smile. He took a moment to write something down on a slip of paper and handed it to Percy.
"I'm too old and set in my ways to travel with you for this job. Go to this address and ask for Peter, my son"
"Your son?" Percy asked dubiously. "Your son can help us with a complex Fidelius?"
"Ask for a demonstration, if you don't believe me," snapped the old man. "Have him protect the secret that you're in control of your own bowel movements, and see what happens."
"Erm…right…your word is good enough for me."
"Good day then, sir."
The old charms master shook his head in disgust as the British wizard left the room, and pulled out his mobile phone to inform his son that he was expecting a 30% referral fee for the easy mark that he'd sent the boy's way.
oo00OO00oo
4:00pm, Scottish Parliament Grounds, Edinburgh, Scotland
As the Headmistress of Hogwarts didn't have an Art Club badge, or MI-5 ¾ -issued comm. gear, or a mobile phone, it took a few minutes for the Queen's Wizard to find her within the cloud-encased Parliament grounds.
It was the distinct sound of her voice dressing down a former student that guided Harry to her position.
"I will not have my reasons for being here questioned, Mr. Conners,"
"But Ma'am, it does seem strange for you to have been invited to a Muggle party…"
"No stranger than me finding you in a broom closet with Dicky Knowles in your Seventh Year," countered Minerva. "But maybe my comparison is off…perhaps we should ask a few of your colleagues for their opinions…or perhaps your wife?"
"Now that's just uncalled for…"
"Then let's ask Mr. Potter," Minerva said with a smile, as the Queen's Wizard appeared from the mist.
"Ask me what, Headmistress?"
The Ministry official who had been standing almost toe-to-toe with McGonagall turned away, and shook his head.
"Nothing that matters," he muttered. "Professor McGonagall and I were…"
"You mean Headmistress McGonagall?" asked Harry sharply.
"Erm, yes…Headmistress and I were just discussing the deployment of my witches and wizards," the man quickly replied. He then added, "So you're the Queen's Wizard, and in charge of this mess?"
"That's right," Harry replied. "And speaking of mess, I've got something for you."
"You telling us what to do? Oh, that's rich…"
"Maybe he should ask Dickie, then?" McGonagall said sweetly.
A pained look came over the Obliviator's face. He sighed, and then asked, "What is it, boy?"
"The correct address is Sir," Minerva stated. "Unless Mr. Potter would prefer the use of one of his other titles?"
Harry snorted, but didn't take the bait.
"Here's the situation," he stated. "We found the Muggle house that the Death Eaters used as a staging area for this attack."
The Ministry official's eyes lit up. "Right, tell us where and we'll be off."
"Hold on," Harry replied. "They didn't use any spells that we can tell, and the Muggles were kept in the basement nearly the whole time."
"They're still alive?" asked Minerva.
Harry nodded his head slowly, with a hard steely gaze that left no doubt about his anger. "They left the family in real rough shape, but yeah…they're all alive. Three toddlers and a mum and dad."
"We'll still need to interview them," the Obliviator stated.
Harry nodded. "Just as a heads up, the husband and wife thought that it was the terrorists that did the Ten O'clock Attacks that were holding them hostage."
"Well it was, wasn't it?"
"No, I mean yes…well…they believe that it was the pretend Muggle terrorists that were used as a cover story," Harry replied.
"And they didn't see any magic being done by the alleged Death Eaters?"
Harry shook his head. "Not that they recognized as such."
The Obliviator sighed. "So why are you gracing us with this information?"
"Because they were able to give good physical descriptions of the Death Eaters that were holding them," Harry replied. "Unless you wanted to return to the Ministry without anything to say about who was involved and how many?"
After chewing on his lip for a few moments, the Ministry official looked in the rough direction of the fog-hidden Palace.
"And you're certain that there's nothing for us to do across the street?"
Harry nodded. "Just some broken dishware and tattered tents left over from when the guests all ran away."
"And none of these alleged Death Eaters that tried to crash this party were killed or captured?"
With a shrug of his shoulders, Harry asked, "Were you working the other night after the Ten O'clock Attacks?"
"Of course I was, didn't sleep for two days."
"And did the Muggles kill or capture any of those attackers?"
"Not that we could determine."
"And do you really think it's possible for Muggles to fight against wizards?" Harry asked sharply. "I mean, c'mon…I'm only a Hogwarts student who got lucky because our wards held."
"And what about those wards?" the official asked.
"Ask Percy Weasley," Harry shot back. "He experienced them first-hand down in London."
The Obliviator crew chief arched an eyebrow. He didn't care much for working under Dolores Umbridge, but Percy Weasley would have been even worse. Nodding to himself, he asked, "But what about these repairs?"
"I think they've got them done right this time," Harry replied. "Tell you what…I'll have someone bring you and your crew around to the Muggle house, and you can check on things here when you get back."
Deciding that it might just be the best way out of a bad situation, the crew chief accepted Harry's offer, and was led away to gather his witches and wizards for the short trip down Royal Park Terrace.
"So, Harry…you actually trust them alone with that Muggle family?" asked McGonagall.
The Queen's Wizard held up his hand, and waited until the Ministry official was out of earshot before responding.
"Of course not…Sensei and Tonks are there to make sure the Ministry folks don't overdo it."
"And why aren't you still there?"
"Because if I stayed there any longer I'd have lost my control and gone medieval on our prisoner's arses," Harry said softly.
"That bad, then?"
Harry nodded. "The bastards made the little kids watch."
"Oh, I see…perhaps, you'll tell me where the prisoners are so that I can express my displeasure in medieval ways?"
Harry shook his head in disgust. "We need to keep the moral high ground, as much as I'd like to retaliate…and I need to ask you to take a walk with me."
"Why is that?"
"I've got to brief the Scottish First Minister," replied Harry, "and since the two of you got along so famously the other night…"
Minerva snorted, "You'll need to provide a little more incentive than that…perhaps if I get the real story along the way?"
That snark managed to brighten Harry's foul mood a bit, and he held his arm out for the Headmistress.
"But everything that I said was true," he hissed in mock protest.
"But that doesn't mean that you said everything, does it?"
"And what makes you think that I was less than forthcoming?" Harry asked with a slight grin.
"Years of experience?"
"Yes, well…you do have me there."
oo00OO00oo
4:30pm, Amsterdam, Netherlands
Percy Weasley's new destination was one of the many "Coffee Shops" in Amsterdam that was known far more for its hash-laced brownies than its hot drinks. Not knowing this fact, it took almost no time at all for Wetherbey's fears and concerns to fade into a cloudy haze, once the younger Vanderwood insisted on sharing a few "snacks" as they discussed the Ministry's needs. It only took slightly more time for Percy to be enticed up the stairs to a private room by the dread locked young Charms Master and his blond girlfriend. The British wizard was deftly stripped down naked, relieved of his money belt, and subjected to a rather thorough Legimens scan that sliced through impaired mental defenses like a knife through butter.
Armed with the knowledge of exactly what Percy wanted, and how much he'd be able to pay for it, the young Charms Master and his girl did a quick cost-benefit analysis. They decided that a quick trip to Britain with Percy would be worth far more than what he had on his person, so they planted a fake memory of a very good time into Percy's brain, returned his belt and clothing, got him to sign a lopsided magically-binding contract, and dragged him down the stairs.
Within minutes, Percy and his new best friend Peter were in a taxi heading towards a ferry terminal on the Dutch coastline.
oo00OO00oo
Palace at Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh, Scotland
Harry filled in the missing detains about the Muggle family that lived on Royal Park Terrace as he led the Headmistress across the street and back onto the Garden Party grounds.
The involuntary hosts for Rodolphus Lestrange's crew had been traumatized and abused over nearly thirty hours of captivity. The victims really had initially thought that they had been held hostage by Muggle terrorists…until Harry flew to their rescue upon a broomstick. Having the Emperor's Wizard reveal his animagus form by morphing back into his human form had also been a shock for the Muggles. But these magical revelations had worked to their advantage, as they supported Tonks' reliability when she asked the mother and father whether they wanted to have their family Obliviated. The parents had declined, asking only that their children be made to forget the entire experience.
Harry then went on to say that the husband and wife were able to identify some of their assailants from pictures of the dead or captured Death Eaters, and that they picked out Rodolphus Lestrange and Augustus Rookwood from a book of Death Eater photographs.
As the Queen's Wizard told this story, a series of motor coaches drove up and parked along the south edge of the Palace grounds.
"What are they here for?" asked the Headmistress.
"To carry our guests away while the Ministry folks are down the street," Harry replied. Leading the Headmistress into the Queen's Tent, he then grabbed a rug and dropped it down onto the lip of the goblin-excavated tunnel.
"And what is that?" Minerva asked.
"The fastest way down to the First Minister," Harry replied. "Ladies first?"
McGonagall snorted, but had come to trust Harry enough to sit down onto the rug. Harry, in turn, didn't trust McGonagall to sneak an up-kilt peek, so he made sure to mind the hem as he squatted down and sent her down into the bomb shelter.
There was a buzz in the basement as Harry rode down the tube on his own carpet. The Garden Party guests who had spent more than ninety minutes below ground were queuing up to climb a stairwell that led up to the main level of the Palace.
"How long will it take to get them all to the coaches?" Harry asked the MI-5 ¾ agent who had been guarding the base of the slide.
"If they stay cool about it, no more than ten minutes," replied the secret agent.
"And have they been cool about being down here?"
"Cool as cucumbers," the man said with a smile. "The First Minister was surprisingly brilliant…helped organize everyone into small groups, and then enlisted the pop stars and gentry from the Queen's Tent to help hand out bottled water and biscuits."
"Did he really?" asked Harry. Looking around the magically-expanded area, he asked, "So where is he now?"
"Other room," the guard replied, pointing towards a guarded doorway on an adjacent wall. "Your clan folk had been in there with the Royal Family, and he wanted to have a word with them."
"Thanks," replied Harry. He then led McGonagall over to the secured area, and walked inside after flashing his MI 5 ¾ identification. Fifteen witches and wizards dressed in Potter plaid were there, mixed in with a dozen c-mugs and MI-5 ¾ agents. The witches and wizards looked almost as pleased to see the Headmistress as the First Minister was to see Harry.
"Well hello, there, Major Potter," the First Minister said brightly. "We've some food left over, if you like?"
Harry shook his head. "Wish that there were time…you requested a briefing, sir?"
The First Minister nodded, and gestured towards one corner of the room.
"So things are safe enough topside to evacuate, Major?" he asked, once they were apart from the others.
Harry nodded. "The Parliament building has been repaired, and the obliviators have been taken down the street and out of range of view," he said softly.
"Obliviators?"
"The witches and wizards whose job it is to erase the memories of any Muggles that saw magic being used. We needed to keep you all down here until they were out of the way."
The Scot snorted. "So they're gone for good?"
"Wish so, but probably not," Harry replied. "Once the evac is finished we'll bring them back for a sanitized look-see."
"What of the Queen?"
Harry looked at his watch and replied, "Should be landing at Balmoral in a few minutes."
"And the latest casualty count?"
The Queen's Wizard frowned a bit as he drew a piece of paper from a coat pocket.
"Five civilians dead, twenty-seven injured. Amongst the security forces…the Yard have three dead, including a K-9 unit, and four injured. The three BA troopers stationed across from the front gate are missing and presumed dead…the Army also lost a two-man sniper team when a portion of the Parliament Building's rooftop collapsed underneath their feet."
"What about the Royal Archers?"
Harry looked up from his notes and nodded slightly. "Good news on that front, at least. Turns out that our magical burn salve works on Muggles…one of the medics told me that four of the injured wouldn't have survived without it. So they all came through, with only eight still injured enough after the salve to send to hospital."
The Muggle nodded gravely. "That is good news…so what of the terrorists?"
Harry frowned. "Ten dead, three captured. At least three more got away."
"And have the prisoners been interrogated?"
Harry shook his head. "We've kept them stunned and unconscious up at Edinburgh Castle. Once we rid ourselves of the Ministry of Magic we'll bring them back down here for questioning."
"Why here?"
"Because the Queen isn't here, and we've got wards in place that will keep the prisoners from magically escaping."
"And have you identified their dead?"
Harry nodded. "All were marked Death Eaters…from first looks all low-level troops. One of the attack leaders was in the first wave, but managed to pop away before he splashed into the pond. Don't know about the other"
"So their leaders were the first to retreat?" asked the Scottish leader. "Rather cowardly."
With a shrug of his shoulders, Harry replied. "Might have only postponed the inevitable… Voldemort will probably decide that this was a failed attack."
"Why wouldn't he? Surely you wouldn't consider this attack to have been successful?"
Harry stared at the Muggle, trying hard not to wear his incredulity on his sleeve. "I failed to protect the Queen's guests, despite our plans and preparations."
The First Minister scowled. "Well, don't let the Queen hear you say that…we both thought just the opposite. You were put in an impossible situation. Eight thousand people cramped together in a public setting, for a well-publicized event? We should have known better…and how many more would have died had your plans not been in place? Had there not been those slides, or your wards, or your people?" He pointed towards the door and added, "Those people out there…the people in here, for that matter…we all owe our lives to you and your people."
"Yes, sir."
"So what's Whitehall's response to all this?"
"A work in progress, sir," Harry replied. "Hermione's having a devil of a time keeping COBRA from passing out pitch forks and going on witch hunts."
"Taking an offensive approach is wrong?" the First Minister asked.
"Not so long as we're certain of our targets," Harry replied, with a glance across the room. "There are thousands of witches and wizards in Britain that have nothing to do with these attacks, or with the stupid policies of the Ministry." He then gestured towards the others in the room wearing Potter plaid and added, "This lot is a prime example. Without their help during the evacuation, things would have been far rougher."
The Scottish leader snorted. "I'll give you that," he replied. "They were helpful down here as well, and Her Royal Majesty was quick to make me aware of these same points before she left."
"Good," replied Harry.
"So what is the appropriate response to all this, then?"
"We've established a…well, call it either a full blockade, or a quarantine. All transfer points between the Muggle and magical worlds are locked down. No witches or wizards in or out."
"Based on what I've learned the past few days, that won't keep their movements in check, though."
"That's right, but it's better than nothing," Harry admitted.
"So why did you bring your Headmistress along?" asked the First Minister.
"To brief the Magicals the same that I've been briefing you," Harry replied. "And with Gilmerton Close shut down, she's their ticket back into the wizarding world."
"And we'll let them go because we trust them?"
"Of course we trust them," Harry replied sharply. "Well, at least I do, and they are wearing my tartan, right?"
The First Minister snorted. "Pity that we're letting them go, then. They could be a big help to our side of this mess."
Harry bit his lower lip, emulating Hermione's favorite way to think.
"Couldn't force them to help," he finally said. "But that doesn't mean that they wouldn't volunteer."
Raising an eyebrow, the First Minister asked, "How so?"
"Well," replied Harry, "we've already got sympathizers working on our side. There's people inside the Ministry keeping us in the know…and then there's the volunteers that are still up on the coastline doing Dementor patrols."
"Not to mention your TPOMS squadron," the First Minister added. "So…fancy mustering this lot into the Paras?"
Harry turned back towards the small crowd of witches and wizards that were presently huddled around the Headmistress. Half of them were parents of his classmates, like the Abbotts and Patils. None of them looked like Regimental material.
As a new box took shape on Harry's mental org chart, he shook his head and said, "Don't think that active military would be best, but…perhaps some sort of volunteer reserve that could be called on to help as needed?"
The First Minister's eyes lit up. "Like the Home Guard?"
"The Home Who?"
"The Home Guard, during the Second World War," the First Minister explained. "A kind of civilian defense corps."
"That might work," agreed Harry. "They'd need a leader, though…I've got enough on my plate already."
"Looks like they've already got one," commented the Scottish politician, as he nodded towards the Headmistress. "Of course, she'd need to coordinate with someone high on our side of the fence."
Harry smiled, "Volunteering for the job, sir?"
The Muggle politician snorted, then looked back towards McGonagall.
"Well it's not like London has asked for my help otherwise, is it?" he asked. "Co-leaders of the 'Scottish Home Guard'…nice ring to it, don't you think? Now, how we would get hold of Minerva or my troops if they disappear into your world, that's a question…they know how to work mobiles?"
Harry snorted, and wondered whether the First Minister's possessive pronouns and the use of the Headmistress's first name were good or bad things.
"Some of them likely do," he replied. "Whether they'd work in high-magic areas is the question…not too many cell towers around Hogwarts."
"Maybe your Headmistress would have an idea, then?"
Harry smiled. "Might want to get her on-board with the idea of co-leadership first, Sir"
"Well, then, time to make my recruiting pitch, then, isn't it?" the First Minister replied. "Can you stay long enough to help me with questions?"
Harry nodded, and decided that he might have to radically revise his opinion on the First Minister…and maybe even his general opinion on politicians.
5:30pm, En Route to Balmoral Castle, Scotland
The voice of the latest (and least wanted) member of Harry Potter's entourage broke a few brief seconds of radio silence.
"Major Potter, Sir?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"We're five minutes from landing…if you care to look out the cabin window, I can start identifying units for you."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Harry replied with a sigh.
They'd been in transit from Edinburgh for a little over thirty minutes time. The Ministry of Magic's Obliviators had finally left Holyrood Park, the Garden Party guests had been evacuated, the ICW delegation flown back to London, and the Parliament building restored to its former "glory." Harry had orders to join the Queen at Balmoral Castle (not that he wouldn't have followed her without the orders), and had planned on simply badge-jumping using Steve as an anchor. But as TPOMS was also deploying there, it was suggested that he ride with his squadron, so that he might get an aerial view of the Estate and its defenses.
Unfortunately, from Harry's perspective, a tour guide came along for the ride. The pimply-faced junior officer from the Royal Scottish Regimental HQ had been "loaned" to TPOMS, as a liaison between Harry's group and the regular Muggle army. This eager beaver had been briefed in on the contingency planning for a possible Royal evacuation, and was determined to show the extent of that knowledge from takeoff to final approach.
The similarity between this Muggle soldier and the older brother of two in his squadron wasn't lost upon Harry. Nor to Fred, who had coughed out the name "Percy" into their shared comm. system more than once.
"The bulk of the Army's deployment involves the 51st Highland Brigade, with elements of the Black Watch thrown into the mix" the aide stated as they began their descent.
"Black Watch?"
"The Royal Highland Regiment," chimed in New Six, from across the cabin. "Top shelf active regiment, with troops drawn mostly from Scotland. They've been in Iraq for a few years now, but they rotate units in and out to keep them fresh…must have pulled the poor bastards who were home on hols."
Harry nodded. "So this Highland Brigade?"
"Territorial Army," said Stout, joining the conversation. "They're reserves and part-timers for the most part. Not nearly as well-armed or well-trained."
"Sir, the 51st does have civil defense within its ORBAT, and has trained for just this sort of thing," the junior officer stated.
"What's an ORBAT?"
"Erm, Order of Battle, Sir?"
"The ORBAT identifies the brigade's standing missions," added New Six.
"Oh, thanks," Harry replied. He then looked down as they passed over some of the higher peaks of the southern Cairngorms. "So what are those domes and dishes down on those hilltops?"
"That's 2nd Signal Brigade, Sir," replied the aide. "They're tasked with providing emergency and disaster recovery communications across the country."
"Also looks like they're sharing space with field radar units," added Stout.
"So we'll have to ask for permission to fly up here as well?" asked Harry.
"Yes, sir," the aide replied, as he looked curiously around the cabin. He'd never seen such a strange squadron…half-officers, half-enlisted, half young, half older, more than a few women. And they were led by a boy younger than he was…a boy with the rank of Major that was asking the most basic of questions about the armed forces. Had it not been for the pips on Harry's uniform and the respect shown by the older enlisted men under his command, the junior officer would have pegged Harry to be more likely a Firstie at Sandhurst.
"Sir?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"If I might ask, exactly what kind of airborne unit is this?"
Harry turned away from the cabin window and shared a smile with his squadron. He then gave the junior officer a stern-looking gaze and asked, "Lieutenant, do these patches on our sleeves mean anything to you?"
"Yes, Sir," the Muggle soldier replied. "You're with the First Paras, Sir."
"That's right, Lieutenant…the Parachute Regiment. So how do you think we go airborne…flying on broomsticks?"
"Erm, no Sir…sorry Sir."
"Any other questions, then?"
"Erm, no sir," the young Muggle replied sullenly. But then he quickly regained his composure, and picked up his running commentary on the Castle's perimeter defenses.
oo00OO00oo
A badge-call from Steve once they had landed at Balmoral informed Harry that he was to attend to the Queen. He would have badge-jumped, were it not for the fact that Lieutenant Longbottom's presence was also required. Instead, he decided to get some use out of the Percy-wannabe and ordered the aide to help the rest of his squadron find a mess tent. The junior officer resisted Harry's dismissal until New Six and Stout stepped up and stared down the lieutenant with suggestions that the boy follow their commanding officer's orders.
A Household Staff member that Harry knew from Buckingham Palace as "Brent" was waiting at the Castle's front. The elderly groomsman raised half an eyebrow at the slightly disheveled mishmash of tartan and combat fatigues worn by the two young men, but held his tongue…he knew what had happened in Edinburgh, and had become accustomed to the terribly informal relationship between the Queen and her Wizard.
The Castle's rooms and hallways were bustling with a thick mixture of military and civilians that the three needed to make their way through en route to what the groomsman called "The Bunker."
When asked about their destination, the servant explained that Balmoral had been earmarked in the 1960s as a royal refuge in the event of a nuclear war. A Cold War-era evacuation plan had been dusted off and enacted that brought most of the Queen's extended family to the Estate. He noted further that there was a select group of Muggle Civil Servants and Members of Parliament who had been flown up from London, and that the Household staff were having fits trying to find suitable accommodations for them all…despite the fact that there were sixty-seven rooms in the Castle and more than 100 outbuildings on the Estate.
Harry's thoughts about why Civil Servants and MPs had been brought to Balmoral were put on temporary hold when the elevator that took them several levels below ground opened its doors, and a blur of tartan shot through to envelop him in a bone-crushing hug.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed as she buried her face into the nook of his shoulder.
"Erm…hey, Hermione, hey Susan," Harry replied with surprise, noting out of the corner of his eye that Neville had been similarly attacked by Potter-Plaid and pigtails.
"What are you doing up here?" Harry asked, once he lifted Hermione off the ground and carried her out of the elevator cab.
"Do I need a reason to be by your side, Major Potter?"
"Of course not…it's just…you and the P.M…."
"Plans were enacted that sent some of the other COBRA members off to secured remote locations," Hermione replied, squeezing his arm. "The Foreign Minister is traveling up as part of that plan, and we'll teleconference after dinner."
"So you've been posted to Balmoral instead of Number10?"
"No, I'll just have a longer commute," she said with a smile. "Do you mind?"
"What? I'd be daft if I did," Harry said with a firm squeeze around Hermione's waist.
The sound of Harry's Muggle escort clearing his throat brought his mind back to business.
"Lord Gryffindor, if you would be so kind, then?" the groomsman asked, gesturing down the hallway with his arm.
"Erm, right…thought we'd been through this, Brent…I'm Harry, right?"
Hermione smiled and pinched Harry's arm.
"Given the occasion, Milord, the title fits."
"What occasion is that, then?"
A sparkle came to Hermione's eye as she recalled how Harry had teased her during their first Royal audience. She gave him a sly smile and said, "You'll see."
oo00OO00oo
Thirty minutes later Harry Potter left his audience with the Queen with a set of keys in his sporran and a shocked expression on his face.
"I can't believe she just did that," he muttered, as he rode the elevator back to ground level with Hermione and Neville.
Hermione snorted. "Well, you have to admit…it does solve the TPOMS lodging situation rather nicely."
"So she could have just offered to let us sleep there for the night," Harry countered. "Didn't have to give me the bloody building…or the 10,000 acres of land that goes with it!"
"Thought that this was just an exchange for the Gryffindor lands that were turned into Windsor Park and Castle?" asked Neville.
"But I didn't ask for it…didn't need it…"
"But that didn't keep you from telling thr Queen 'Yes, Ma'am, thank you, Ma'am', right?" asked Neville.
"Yeah, but…10,000 acres? I don't even know how big that is!"
"About fifteen square miles," Hermione replied, quickly doing the math.
"It's big, but not obscenely big," Neville offered. "Our family lands cover 6,400 acres, for comparison."
"And Longbottom Manor is huge!" Harry explained. "And why did she decide to give this to me now?"
"Have you already forgotten how the Queen answered that question, Harry?" Hermione asked with a smile.
Harry shook his head as the elevator doors opened to the Castle's main floor.
"Yeah, yeah…'You'll see,' she said…made me think that she was channeling you, Hermione." Harry muttered. "So how long before I see, then?"
Hermione smiled as she took hold of Harry's hand, led him outside, and pointed to two waiting Land Rover Rapid Deployment Vehicles.
"You'll see just as soon as you gather your squadron, Major Potter."
"Right, then," Harry said firmly. "You're in on this surprise as well?"
"You'll see."
The TPOMS commander sighed, allowing Hermione to have her bit of fun. Neville was dispatched to go find the others while Sir Harry and Dame Hermione walked hand-in-hand towards the Landys.
"So who else is along for the ride?" Harry asked.
The answer came when Hermione led Harry around the back of one of the Land Rovers and gestured towards a pair of Potter-Plaid wearing snoggers who were doing a bit of opportunistic groping.
"Oh, hi there, Harry," called out Luna, as she nonchalantly pulled her hand out from underneath Ron's kilt. "Thanks for the 'his and her' skirts!"
"Erm…sure," Harry stammered. "Checking for ants in Ron's pants?"
As the youngest male Weasley blushed from embarrassment, Luna shook her head and shrugged.
"Oh, Ronnie isn't wearing any pants right now, but you can't be too sure, can you?"
"Erm, hello, there Harry," Ron said, pulling his own hands free for a slipshod salute.
Harry snorted. "I'd say 'at ease' but that would be rather redundant, wouldn't it?"
Ron replied with an even deeper blush, allowing Harry to add, "So when did you two arrive?"
"When Hermione did," stated Luna. "Five o'clock is quitting time in the mail room, and she gave me the nicest hug when we side-along apparated."
"Did she, now?" Harry asked with a smile and a glance towards his girlfriend.
"Just close enough to get our…cough…fellow MI-5 agent…cough…here," Hermione muttered. "Of course, if her boyfriend knew how to apparate, he could've done it himself."
"Oh, that wouldn't have been any fun…Ronnie and I have plenty of other chances to hug," Luna said brightly. "You, and I on the other hand…."
"Yes, well we're all square now, aren't we?" Hermione said quickly. "And you might want to get some last hugs in now, because boys and girls will have separate dorms tonight."
"Oh, poo!"
"Oh, poo is right," added Harry.
Hermione gave Harry a sidelong glance, smiled, and whistled a bit of "Love Shack." It was horribly off-tune, but he still got the idea.
"So Luna, are you going to be staying with us, then?" he asked.
Luna nodded and shrugged her shoulders. "Somebody needs to ride on Ronnie's broomstick, right?"
"Better her than me," Hermione muttered under her breath.
Ron tried to change the subject, asking, "So where is this forward position that we've been assigned to?"
"Ask her," Harry replied, with a nod towards Hermione.
She gave the two-word response of the day.
"You'll see."
The arrival of TPOMS squadron and the pesky Muggle junior officer kept Ron from pressing the issue.
"Which Landy will you be using, Major Potter?" asked the attaché.
"Hadn't decided…why?"
"Because I'll need to ride by your side, of course," the Muggle said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, that won't be necessary…Lieutenant," chimed in Hermione. "I'll be by the Major's side."
The junior officer gave Hermione's civilian dress a once-over. The woven pattern of the long skirt she was wearing matched that of the non-military issue kilt that Harry still wore, but there were no other signs of rank.
"I am Lieutenant Bravard, Ma'am, the Major's new attaché. You are…."
"Somebody with a security clearance much higher than yours, Lieutenant," Hermione said with an arched eyebrow and a flash of her laminated MI-5 credentials. "And somebody who is traveling with Major Potter and his troops to an area that you most certainly haven't been cleared to visit."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, Lieutenant, I'm afraid that it is," said Harry with a smile. "Now why don't you run along and make yourself useful someplace else? I'll come looking for you if I need your assistance."
"But, sir?"
"Dismissed, Lieutenant!"
"Yes, Sir," the young man said with no small amount of dejection.
Once the Muggle soldier was out of earshot, Harry said, "Thanks for the excuse, Hermione…that boy was starting to get on my nerves."
"Boy, Harry?" Hermione quipped. "He's at least a few years older than we are."
"Doesn't feel like it right now," Harry said with a sigh.
"Sounds like the ants are getting to Harry, Hermione," opined Luna. "Do you want to check, or should I?"
Hermione smiled. "Oh, I'll take care of that later, thanks."
"Promise?" asked Harry with a smirk.
Hermione waggled her eyebrows, and took a step closer to Harry so that she could grab hold of the pleated front of his kilt.
"Unless you'd rather have that inspection now?"
Wolf-whistles and catcalls from the members of TPOMS squadron kept Harry from fully considering his options, so he gently pushed Hermione's hand away from his kilt hem and gruffly ordered his troops into the back of the vehicles.
It wasn't until Hermione and he climbed into the front cab of the lead Landy that he whispered an answer into her ear.
"Later would be brilliant, thanks."
oo00OO00oo
There were a number of checkpoints between the Castle grounds and the highway that connected Balmoral with Aberdeen, and once they turned onto the two-lane road Harry noticed only military traffic.
"Blocked off civilian access, then?" he asked
Their driver nodded. "Probably only for a few more hours, Major…until all of the troops are where they should be."
"And where is it that we should be, Hermione?" Harry asked.
"You'll see," she replied with a grin.
A mile away from the Castle's access road, the Land Rovers turned north along a secondary unpaved path that climbed up out of the wooded valley of the River Dee and into heath-covered moorlands. They crossed armed checkpoints at the start of this rough road, and came upon another checkpoint at a crosspath four miles farther along.
That this latest roadblock was in a barren area of moorlands caught Harry's eye, but not as much as what was guarding it…two dozen members of the Black Watch, dressed in desert-pattern camouflage and armed to the teeth with automatic weapons, two machine gun emplacements, armored vehicles, and a tank.
"Good afternoon, Major," said the soldier that popped his head into the Land Rover's cab.
Harry was in too pissy a mood not to respond to the sarcasm in the man's voice, so he took note of the man's rank and said, "It is a good afternoon, isn't it Sergeant?"
The soldier snorted, which made Hermione turn a little cross. After demonstrating her reason for being with a flash of her MI-5 badge, she asked, "Do you have a problem, soldier?"
"No, Ma'am," he replied. "It's a lovely day to be sitting here out in the open, waiting to be attacked by witches on broomsticks. Makes perfect sense that I'm here, instead of home with my girl after eight months in Basra."
Harry shook his head. "You've been told, then?"
"Yes, Major. We're to defend the Queen against you lot."
"You lot?"
"Well, sir, not you personally…you're supposed to be one of the good wizards, right?"
"That's right, Sergeant," Harry snapped. "I'm the Queen's Wizard, Major Harry Potter…do you have a problem with that?"
"Erm, no Sir…sorry Sir," the soldier said with his eyes cast down. "Just seems rather ridiculous."
"Ridiculous, you say?" roared a voice from behind the Landy.
Harry popped his head out of the opened window and spotted New Six and the other "real army" members of his squadron bearing down.
"You miserable piece of excrement," shouted New Six. "Did you even ask the Major for permission to speak freely?"
The sergeant and the other members Black Watch squadron took note of the demeanor of the men from Sport and Social, and made to back up their man. Deciding it was time to live up to his command rank, Harry stepped out of the Landy and ordered New Six and the others to stand down.
"I think that the Sergeant and his men need a little bit of reassurance that there's a real reason why they are here to guard against witches and wizards," he announced.
"Good idea, Major," New Six said with an evil grin. "Turn him into a newt…that'll get his attention."
The soldiers on both sides of this mini-confrontation laughed, with only the TPOMS members knowing that Harry could actually fulfill that request.
"Hermione…don't suppose we have wards established here?"
"No…can only put the ward line so far out."
Harry nodded. "Too bad, that makes it out of bounds for me to turn the Sergeant here into a flobberworm. So how far to my new Lodge?"
Closing one eye in a squint to aid her estimate, Hermione replied, "About four miles to the west."
"And does the view change between here and there?"
"Not really, why?"
"Because brooms won't trip the Ministry's sensors, and these men need to get an idea of what they might be up against."
"Oh, Harry, you aren't thinking…."
"So what else is new?" he replied with a grin. "Captain Weasley?"
"Yes, Sir!" Ron shouted.
"Break out the brooms."
"Yes, Sir!"
The members of the Black Watch Squadron who had been ordered to defend the crossroad filled the valley with laughter at Harry's orders.
Three minutes later, some of these same men were filling their pants as a full squadron of airborne assault broomsticks buzzed two feet over their heads at one-hundred and ten miles per hour.
"Ahh…that felt good!" announced "Seeker" as they left the checkpoint behind and headed up the valley in a stacked V-formation.
"Harry…slow down! And the secrecy statutes…" whined Hermione.
"Won't mean a thing if a group of Death Eaters pops in front of those boys, will it?" Harry retorted.
"Seeker?" asked a voice coming through their charmed headgear.
"Go ahead, Lee…erm, I mean 'Rasta'."
"So we're heading to a position that is forward of those blokes?"
"Looks like it, Rasta."
"In the direction towards where that tank's gun was pointed?" added Stout.
"Got a problem with that?" asked Harry.
"No sir, just wondering."
"No worries, Sergeant Stout," chimed in Hermione. "We'll be free to use our wands up there for defense."
"And where exactly is there, Chequers?" asked Harry.
The question had been posed enough times in front of the troops for them to all respond in unison on Hermione's behalf.
"You'll see!"
oo00OO00oo
The Queen's Wizard didn't think there was much at all to see as they followed a one-lane cart path up the valley. Nothing rose above the level of the heath, other than the stone walls of two abandoned buildings passed along the way. Harry was beginning to question the Queen's generosity, but kept those thoughts to himself so long as he had a live mike within his flight helmet.
They followed the valley until it came to a point and started back down on the far side of a large hill to their left. Hermione pointed towards a small monument of rocks and told him to land, explaining that the squadron needed to be keyed into the wards that began at that point.
"What wards are you talking about, Hermione?" Harry asked, as he followed her instructions.
"Those that protect Glengairn Lodge, Harry."
"And where is that, then?"
Hermione pointed up to the top of hill on the north slope of the valley, where a lonely looking stone building stood sentinel.
"That's Glengairn Lodge?" he asked.
Hermione nodded just before she hopped off the broom and removed her helmet.
Harry took a good, full-circle glance at their bleak-looking location. There was a fine view of Ben Avon and its sister peaks to the west, but not much else. He removed his helmet, so that he could ask in confidence, "That's it, then?"
His girlfriend chuckled. "Oh ye of little faith…don't you know by now that looks can be deceiving? Come here, you."
The Queen's Wizards followed orders, and allowed Hermione to wave her wand over his head a few times.
"Take a few steps up the hill, and see if your opinion still holds."
Harry did so, and witnessed a dramatic change in landscape as he passed through the slight shimmer of a ward line. Halfway up the hill, the heath gave way to lush green lawn, and a manicured landscape of flowering bushes and shrubs. The forlorn-looking stone structure had morphed into an impressive ivy-walled estate house.
"Whoa…what's that?"
"Well it could be home, if you want," Hermione replied brightly. "But for now, we can just call it Glengairn."
Harry thought that "Glengairn" had a nice ring to it, but that "home" sounded even better, especially when Hermione said it. He began to stride up the hill, only to have her stop him.
"Hold on, Harry…let me get the others through," she asked. "I want to see the look on your face when we get up there."
"Why?" he asked. "Can't imagine that the view could be any better than this one."
"You'll see," Hermione said with a wink.
Harry anxiously waited for Hermione to complete her spell work.
"So you built this illusion into the wards?" he asked.
"No, that's beyond me, I'm afraid," Hermione admitted. "It's a hyped-up notice-me-not charm built into a perimeter ward. The goblins think it's been here for hundreds of years…all I can do is control who is affected by it."
"How did you manage that?"
"With the land-owner's permission," she replied.
"But I thought that I own all this, now?"
"Not until the papers that you signed are filed," Hermione noted. "And you certainly didn't own these lands two weeks ago."
"So you had the Queen's help?"
"Well, she was the land owner."
"And you kept this a secret from me?"
Hermione chuckled, and nodded. "It was supposed to be a birthday present, but given present circumstances it couldn't wait."
"Wow," said Harry, amazed at what his Queen and Consort had accomplished.
"Save the wows until we get to the top," Hermione instructed.
"Yes, dear," he replied with a grin.
Once everyone was inside the ward line Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and took the lead up the hill. They stopped twice along the way, just so that Harry could smell the flowering bushes and touch the green grass to reassure himself that it was all real.
"So where is the front door?" he asked, taking a new look at the building.
"Around the other side," Hermione replied. "View is better facing north."
"How could it be any better?" Harry asked.
Hermione decided not to give her stock reply, as they had reached the building and were following a flag stone path around to the other side. Instead, she waited until she could sweep her arms out towards the valley below and simply say, "That's how."
"Holy shi…"
"Language, Harry!"
"And you didn't swear the first time you were here?"
"Not as far as you know."
"Sweet Merlin on a Manticore!" shouted Ron, who had been close behind Harry and Hermione.
"There, see Harry? And it was Ron, too…if he didn't see the need to curse then surely you shouldn't."
Ron was too shocked to notice the insult. Neither were the other magical members of the squadron once they shared the vantage point.
Luna didn't seem too concerned, though. Neither did the Muggles.
"So this is our forward position?" asked New Six.
"Yes."
"And there's something down there we'd need to defend against?"
Harry snorted.
"Pull your wizard glasses out and take another look."
All of the Muggle squadron members took the hint and put digital binoculars up to their eyes.
"Whoa…what the hell is that swimming in that lake?" asked Coley.
"Why that's Lenny, of course," said Luna.
"That thing has a name?"
"Doesn't every Giant Squid?"
"So let me guess," said New Six. "You all recognize that hamlet below us?"
"Yes," Harry replied with a wavering voice. "It's called Hogsmeade."
10:00pm, Harwich Port, Essex
Peter Vanderwood paid no mind to Percy's dry heaves over the port rail of the Hook to Harwich ferry…his focus was already divided between the approaching coastline and the bottom of his beer bottle.
"Damn," he scowled, "I wonder if there's still time for a final round."
"Aren't we there, yet?" Percy asked weakly.
"Your country, mate…you tell me," the Dutch wizard muttered. "Stay here," he ordered, as he headed back below decks.
"Not going anywhere," Percy replied, as he hung for dear life to the railing.
The North Sea hadn't been all that rough during the six hour transit, but the Minister of Knowns had gotten the munchies and stuffed himself full of Muggle fast food right before they had boarded the ship. The greasy cheeseburgers and chips didn't last long in his stomach once the anchor was raised and the first pint of duty-free beer went down. He'd been puking at regular intervals ever since.
There was a dark green bottle in each of the Dutch wizard's hands when he returned a few minutes later.
"Hey, I thought to get you a beer before I closed out your tab," Peter announced.
"No thanks," Percy whispered.
"Right then…I'll have to drink twice as fast."
"When are we getting off this cursed muggle ship?" whined Percy.
"Once we pass inside the frontier wards, or I finish my drinks…whichever comes first."
"But the wards…I'm a high-ranking Ministry official.. Won't be a problem if you're with me."
The Dutch wizard looked at the green-gilled English wizard and laughed.
"So you say…forgive me if I don't think you look much like a high-ranking Ministry official right now."
"But I am!"
"So go then…I'm not keeping you."
"Have to take you along."
"No way in hell that I'm letting you side-along apparate me onto shore," the young wizard scoffed. "Although once we're there…don't suppose you know of any floo connections in Harwich?"
Percy frowned. "Don't know anything about Harwich…we floo to specific places, not Muggle cities."
"How stupid is that?" asked Peter. "Never mind, I already know the answer." He thought for a moment, then said, "Taxi into London shouldn't cost more than a couple hundred quid…I've got enough, and you probably have just enough galleons to pay me back."
"Taxi?" asked Percy.
"A Muggle car for hire, you idiot," the Dutchman replied.
"I know what a taxi is," Percy complained. "Just want this trip to be over."
Peter Vanderwood ignored Percy's whining as he took a long final draw from the second beer bottle He then carelessly tossed the empty bottle overboard and wiped his mouth on his jacket sleeve. Looking out towards the fast approaching shoreline, he said, "Have to be within three miles now, let's see…we'll apparate inside that Muggle fort on that point of land, okay?"
Percy groaned.
"What a helpless bugger," Peter muttered. Grabbing hold of his two bags stuffed with duty-free whiskey, he asked, "Think you can manage to switch your grip from that handrail to my waist?"
Percy nodded and lurched towards the Dutchman's side.
"Oi, keep your face pointing away from me," Peter yelled. "Don't want you spilling your guts on the single malt."
When Percy complied with this request, the Dutch wizard rechecked that they wouldn't be spotted by the other passengers, then apparated out into the night.
10:30pm, Balmoral Castle,. Scotland
The Queen's Wizard had returned to Balmoral Castle, and was in SO14's control room with Steve when his Art Club badge began to vibrate. Not wishing to disturb those monitoring the different video displays (or to openly advertise the capabilities of his Order's emblem), Harry stepped into an adjacent loo.
"Go ahead, Hermione," he said, once he activated his badge.
"Are you ready for bed yet?"
Harry looked at his watch.
"Yeah, I guess so…not that much going on right now."
"Good," Hermione replied. "Are you someplace…private right now?"
"Yeah, actually, I am…why?"
"Because I'm already under the covers, I don't fancy you using me as an anchor point with your boots still on, and I want to see you dressed in my housewarming present."
"Oh," Harry replied, with some confusion. "So you're at Glengairn?"
"That'd be a bit crowded, with your squadron quartered there, wouldn't it?"
"The Love Shack, then?"
"Harry…I'm under the covers."
"Yeah, but where…Balmoral? London? Windsor?"
"Does it really matter more than the fact that there's barely anything between me and those covers right now?"
Harry snorted. "Well, when you put it that way…"
"That's right, so pull out that present and get cracking."
"Right…hold on."
Pulling his ever-present rucksack off of his shoulder, Harry opened the flap and pulled out a small package that Hermione had given him as a "housewarming present" that afternoon. It had been something that she hadn't wanted him to open in front of the squadron.
When he unwrapped the small box he saw why.
"So what do you think, Harry?"
Harry frowned as he pushed past folded tissue paper and pulled out a small triangle of tartan fabric fixed with a few pieces of string.
"Hold on, I'll tell you once I've cancelled the shrinking charm."
Hermione giggled over the Art Club badge.
"Harry, they haven't been shrunk."
"Really? Erm, what are they then?"
"Harry, you can't tell me that you haven't seen a thong before."
"A thong? For me?"
"Why not?" Hermione asked. "You seem to like them well enough when I'm wearing them."
"Yes, but…"
"Are you telling me that you aren't going to make me happy and wear my gift?"
"Erm, no…of course not…wouldn't you rather me arrive under the covers starkers, though?"
"And what if there's an emergency and we have to badge-jump to the Queen's defense?" Hermione asked. "You wouldn't want to duel naked, would you?"
"Erm maybe…but not in front of the Queen, and only if you were my naked opponent and we were shooting chocolate sauce at each other."
"Hmmm….hold that thought for another night, mister, and get dressed."
Harry shook his head in disbelief, and then cast a worried glance at the door that led back into the control room.
"Are you doing this just to get my mind off things?"
"No, I'm doing it to get your mind onto me."
"And the pillow talk is part of the deal?"
"Is that a complaint? Because if it is, I hear that some of the other agents are sleeping out in Balmoral's mews tonight."
"Erm, yes dear…I mean, no dear…I mean….hold-on," Harry said with no small amount of exasperation.
The Queen's Wizard quickly stripped down. Or at least tried to…he was still getting used to fastening and unfastening his kilt pins and straps.
Once he was down to only his dragonhide wrist holster and wand, he grabbed hold of the skimpy shorts and managed to slip them on after a few tries getting his legs into the correct gaps.
"Hermione, this looks silly," Harry whined, checking out his look in the mirror.
"Guess they look too silly for me to wear, then?"
"Of course not…you've got a cute bum."
"And you don't?"
"Hermione…."
"Harry, are you a Gryffindor, or not?"
Harry snorted, grabbed his rucksack in his other hand, and jumped…into something that looked quite like a Gryffindor dormitory. Only it wasn't.
"Harry?"
The Queen's Wizard flinched at the sound of a feminine voice that wasn't Hermione's.
"Parvati?" He asked, as he quickly covered his barely-covered bits with his rucksack and spun around.
He had it half right…both Parvati and her twin sister were sitting on a four-poster bed with drawn curtains, wearing skimpy little night gowns with a tartan pattern that matched his thong.
"Harry, what are you doing here?" Padma exclaimed. "What are you doing here dressed like that?"
"Not that we mind, mind you," Parvati said with a grin. "Hermione never told us how cute your bum was."
Motion in the corner of Harry's eye caught his attention before he could explain. Susan Bones's head poked out from the curtains of a different bed and she sleepily asked, "What's going…Harry?"
"Hold on a second," Harry asked, as he nudged Hermione's "ray" on his Art Club badge.
"Harry?" came a voice over the badge. "Where are you?"
"That's what I'd like to know," he replied. "And while you're telling me where I am, maybe you can talk loud enough to explain to Susan, Parvati and Padma why I am here?"
"Susan…Parvati?….oh, bugger!"
A moment later, Harry heard the silence-charmed curtains pull back from the bed behind him.
Two moments later, he found himself being dragged arse over teakettle backwards.
"Hermione?" Harry asked, as his limbs got tangled up with his girlfriend's.
"Hang on," his new bedmate asked. She then leaned over Harry's body, giving him a close-up view of the matching thong that she was wearing, and poked her own head out of the curtains.
"Sorry, girls, he was supposed to pop up under the covers, not outside of the curtains."
"Oh we don't mind too much, do we girls?" Parvati asked brightly. "You can make it up to us by telling us all of the juicy details in the morning."
"Okay…no," Hermione replied.
"So is he spending the night, then?" Padma asked with a sly smile.
"Would you mind if he did?"
"I wouldn't, but Hannah might be surprised when she goes off-duty in the morning."
"Unless she is supposed to be part of the juicy details?"
"Of course she isn't," Hermione huffed. "Good night, ladies."
"Good night, Harry!" Parvati shouted across the room, earning her a chorus of giggles.
Hermione swore under her breath, and pulled her head back inside the curtains. Her boyfriend was sitting on top of the covers with a bemused expression on his face.
"Oh, Merlin, Harry, I'm so sorry…this was supposed to be a way to get your mind off things and I've…"
"Succeeded beyond your wildest dreams?"
Hermione let out a deep breath. "I'm never going to hear the end of this one, am I?"
"Probably not," Harry replied with a smile, as he unfolded his legs and stretched out on the bed. Shifting uncomfortably, he then reached back and adjusted the string that made up the back of his shorts. He patted the pillow next to him and asked, "So where did you bring me, anyway?"
"Still in Balmoral," Hermione said softly, as she took the hint and stretched out next to Harry. "In the tower…they converted the top part into a room for the witches-in-waiting to use."
"Thought that it looked familiar…this is where I first met the Prince. Thought we were going to use the Love Shack that we set up outside of Glengairn, though?"
"Yes, well…I decided to let Ron and Luna use it for the night."
"Ron and Luna?" asked Harry. "What in Merlin's name for?"
"So that Ron can do something other than get jealous of you and so that Luna can do Ron."
"Oh," Harry replied. "That actually makes sense, I guess…so why here, then?"
"Well, Hannah has the night shift by the Queen's chambers, so she offered me the use of her bed, and I thought since you've never been able to see the witch's dormitory at Hogwarts, that…"
"You thought that you'd sneak your boyfriend into your pretend dorm room for a romp?" Harry asked with a grin.
"Well, maybe not a romp so much as…a cuddle?"
Harry nodded.
"Scoot up then, and let's get under the covers."
Hermione smiled, and quickly complied, turning her back on Harry so that she could fall back into a tight spoon. Once she reached for Harry's hand and pulled it down to cover her midriff, they lay quiet for a few moments.
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Hannah does know not to pile into bed in the morning, right?"
"Hmmm….would you be upset if I asked her to join us?"
"Is this some sort of boyfriend test, Hermione?"
"Maybe," she said with a smiling tone of voice.
There was a second lull in the conversation.
"Harry?"
Her boyfriend's response came in the form of deep, regular breathing.
Hermione sighed, and wiggled even closer to Harry.
"If only it had been a fiancé test," she whispered. "You would have passed; you know…not that I could ever say that out loud, for fear of being hypocritical about not jumping off of deep ends."
Hermione never saw the smile that formed on Harry's lips in response.