The Battle Standard
by Jardyn39
Chapter 8 - Pocket Tigers
Harry frowned down into the bowl of lukewarm soup he was stirring. Dinner that evening at Grimmauld Place was a very subdued affair.
Hermione had been very upset at him for staying behind without telling them what he was going to do. Harry had apologised, saying truthfully that he had only finally made up his mind at the last moment.
Hermione now sat opposite him next to Ron who alone seemed to be enjoying the meal.
Harry kept going over his conversation with Miss Alice in his mind.
He was sure he had missed something she was telling him. Well, if not actually telling him, then expecting him to work out.
Finally he sighed deeply and dropped his spoon with a cluttering sound.
"I wish I knew what she is really up to," he said abruptly.
Hermione looked up and blinked, clearly having been deep in thought herself.
"She didn't ask me anything about my vision."
"What is there to ask?" said Ron, reaching for another bread roll.
"No," said Hermione. "She's usually inquisitive about everything. Maybe she didn't want to draw your attention to something."
Harry nodded.
"What if Miss Alice is using torture to interrogate her prisoners?"
"So what if they are?" said Ron. "I mean, look at what they've been doing to people."
"I'm sure their victims would agree, Ron," said Hermione quietly. "The problem is how can you be sure that the people tortured aren't actually innocent? People will confess to anything under torture."
Ron shrugged.
"Miss Alice must know that," said Harry. "I don't think she can be extracting confessions. Maybe she is trying to terrorise them or something?"
"To what end?" asked Hermione. "What would be the point?"
"I don't know," admitted Harry. "As I said, I think I missed something she was telling me. Maybe all this is yet another deceit?" he added, but not really believing it.
"Why not go and tell Kingsley?" suggested Ron. "The Aurors would take action if they were doing anything illegal."
"I'm not about to make the same mistake as I did with Ollivander," said Harry flatly. "I falsely accused him of being the Healer, remember?"
Harry didn't voice his other reason for not wanting to involve the Aurors. He knew it was perfectly true that they would intervene, but a small but persistent part of him wondered if torture might indeed be justifiable in certain instances.
They were quiet for a few minutes.
"Do you still want to find Torvais?" asked Hermione, breaking the silence.
"Yes. I was hoping we could do that tomorrow, actually."
"When are you planing on meeting Parkinson?"
"Tomorrow evening at eleven o'clock."
"I'll bet you anything she lays a trap for us," said Ron adamantly.
Harry smiled and said, "She won't have the location until one hour beforehand, so that would be difficult. Besides, I plan to be there early. If there is any sign of trouble, I can either relocate or cancel the meeting."
"We, Harry," Hermione said pointedly. "You are not going alone."
Harry nodded, knowing he would lose the argument in the end anyway.
*
The next morning Harry came down for breakfast having slept in until past nine o'clock. He knew he would be out until late that night so didn't worry about what time he rose.
The living room door was wide open and Harry could see an assortment of maps and books strewn all over the floor.
Hermione was sat with her back to him right in the middle, having apparently pushed the furniture to the edges of the room.
"Looks interesting," he observed, picking his way carefully over to her.
"Oh, morning, Harry," she said thickly, returning the tiny handkerchief she was using to her sleeve.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
"Fine. I think I may be coming down with a cold, though. I've been sniffling all morning."
"Can I get you anything?"
"No, thanks."
Harry smiled and nodded. He was about to lean down and kiss her cheek when she lunged for some notes she had by her side. Instead, he picked up the mug with the dregs of a lemon drink by her side and placed it on the table.
"I've been trying to shortlist the number of possible locations for Torvais."
"Any luck?"
"Well, unfortunately there isn't currently a village by that name in the country. I have drawn up a list of possible sites based upon different spellings and pronunciations, but to be honest I'm not too hopeful. You see, I suspect that it stopped being a Muggle habitation some time ago."
"Could Scenariste help if the place is now a hidden Wizarding village?" asked Harry, knowing the ghost librarian had access to a vast amount of information.
"I have asked him, but he insists he hasn't heard of it. I suspect the place is simply vacant and long forgotten."
"Is that possible? A Village that is completely deserted and left undiscovered for years?"
"I agree, it does seem unlikely."
"So, how are we going to find the place?"
"Well, you said that originally Torvais was a shipbuilder. I've looked that family name up and found that there was indeed a family of shipbuilders by that name up until around the time of Nelson."
"That's great, Hermione. Where did they live?"
"Um, that's a little tricky. You see, they moved from generation to generation following the different demands for their skills. I've got at least a dozen or so places, and vague ones at that."
"So, what are these maps for?"
"I was hoping we might eliminate some. You said it was hilly and there was a waterway, after all."
"I didn't see very much, though. Also, we climbed fairly high up but I didn't see the sea at all."
"What about the sea air? Could you smell anything?"
"I don't remember," Harry admitted.
"Actually Harry, the few sites I've confirmed did construct seafaring vessels, are not all near to the sea."
"Really?" he asked in surprise. Harry had expected all shipbuilders to be located right on the coastline.
"Yes. I imagine it was more important to be near to good timber supplies and ships were much smaller then. This was at least a century before the age of steam, after all."
They settled down and Harry spent an enjoyable, if rather businesslike, morning with Hermione pouring over the maps and gazetteers she had collected. By lunchtime, they had narrowed the list down to five good candidates.
"Harry, shouldn't you contact Professor McGonagall?" asked Hermione as they entered the kitchen.
"Um, why?"
"You need to make contact with Moody, don't you? Who else knows where he lives?"
"Actually, Ron got his address for me; from his Dad."
"Oh."
"Still, you may be right," he added quickly seeing the disappointment on Hermione's face. "He's pretty paranoid. It might be safer if someone he trusts tells him I'm coming."
Hermione smiled and nodded.
"I'll pop by to see her tomorrow," he promised.
"Harry, I think you should go this afternoon. I'm going up to Hogwarts myself in a few minutes. Don't worry," she assured him, "I'll be back in plenty of time for this evening."
"Um, okay," said Harry, hoping that Professor McGonagall would be too busy to give him any more homework.
*
Fortunately for Harry, Professor McGonagall was in the middle of sorting out a minor crisis when he arrived. He soon learned that Hagrid had brought along one of his prized Magical Creatures when he visited a Second Year who had missed a lesson due to a brief stay in the Hospital Wing.
The Second Year student, like Harry would have been, had greatly enjoyed seeing the playful Pocket Tigers. Unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey hadn't been so keen to see them in her Hospital Wing and had shooed Hagrid and his two tigers out at once.
It occurred to Harry that perhaps if Hagrid hadn't stopped to argue how tame they were, he might not have allowed the animals to escape his clutches.
There followed a morning of complete chaos as Hagrid and most of the staff attempted to control the beasts.
This wasn't a particularly easy task. The tigers were not only rather frightened of all the noise and activity going on around them, they also had one magical trait that made them almost impossible to catch: they could vanish at will and reappear again anywhere within a twelve foot radius.
Harry was directed to help corner the beasts at once but was thoroughly told off by Hagrid when he managed to stun one of the tigers. Professor McGonagall, though, was decidedly less bothered and directed Harry to stun the other one at once.
This proved unnecessary as the remaining tiger lost all interest in the chase and instead meekly approached Hagrid and its unconscious partner.
"Don' worry," Hagrid assured the beast. "She'll be fine. Let's get you both back to the forest, shall we?"
With enormous strength, he picked up the tiger and they all walked quietly out of the castle.
Harry grinned at Professor McGonagall as she sat down and wiped her brow with a small tartan cloth.
"So, Harry. I assume you didn't come up for some additional homework or to chase tigers around the school?"
Harry snorted and said, "Actually, I was hoping you'd do me a favour. I need to contact Alastor Moody."
"Indeed? Well, I should warn you that he's becoming even more eccentric with regards to his personal protection these days. I myself had some difficulty in persuading him it was I the last time I visited."
Harry smiled but resisted the temptation to pass comment.
"May I ask why you wish to see him?"
Harry's face dropped and he answered quietly, "I had another message from Professor Dumbledore. It was in his Standard Book of Spells and the message was charmed to wait until now."
"I see. Well, I'll try to get a message to him this afternoon. It may be safer if you wait until tomorrow, at least. You may find a little daylight will give you an edge when you have to dodge his hexes."
"Thanks, Professor. Tomorrow will be fine."
"Very well, Harry. I'll get a message to you later. You'll be glad to know that Augusta has settled in nicely."
"Good," said Harry after a moment's hesitation. He'd always thought of Mrs Longbottom as being the sort of person without a first name.
"I've rather enjoyed her company, as a matter of fact."
"Good. How's Neville holding up?"
"Well, he does seem rather torn. On the one hand he's clearly relieved that his Grandmother is safe. On the other, he is rather terrified he'll be seen in the company of a certain other Mrs Longbottom."
Harry burst out laughing.
"You heard?"
"How could I not?" Professor McGonagall replied with a warm smile. "By the way, Ginny's team will be playing this Saturday. You'd be most welcome to come and watch."
"Thank you, Professor. I'd really like that."
"Good."
*
Harry knocked on Ron's room at Grimmauld Place and waited for him to answer, but instead he heard footsteps come over to the door.
The door opened and Ron said, "Hi, Harry. I'm almost ready."
Ron left the door open and returned to his bed.
"No hurry."
"Hermione said it will probably be quite cold later tonight, so I was just deciding what jumpers to wear."
"Good idea. Listen, Ron. I need you to promise me something. We don't know what will happen tonight and to be honest, I'd prefer it if Hermione didn't come. She said she thought she was coming down with a cold or something earlier today but she almost bit my head off when I suggested she might not want to come with us."
"Let me guess," said Ron from inside one of Mrs Weasley's hand knitted jumpers. "You want me to stay with her and get her away the first sign of trouble. Right?"
"Exactly right, Ron."
"You know, she made me promise not to do that?"
"Well, in that case you'd better get her away before there is any sign of trouble."
Ron snorted and emerged out of the collar.
"You know? I think Hermione forgot that possibility. Do you really think there'll be trouble?"
"I'm sure of it, although we may not know until it's too late. Pansy won't be able to help herself. She knows there isn't time for her to set a trap for us, but that doesn't mean she can't cause trouble."
Ron nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I still can't get over how different she looked."
Harry nodded in agreement.
"I mean, she was kind of attractive. What with having lost so much weight around her face and the platinum blonde hair too."
"Yeah, well you'll be in trouble with another blonde if she hears you talking like that," Harry said with a smile.
"I'm only saying. I know underneath she's the same evil bitch who taunted me for six years."
Harry went back over to the door.
Before he left he said, "Don't forget. Hermione gets away before the trouble starts."
*
They Apparated to the meeting point just after nine o'clock that evening, well before the place of the meeting would reveal itself on the card Harry had given to Pansy.
They immediately checked the entire area thoroughly before settling into position behind a low wall. From there they had excellent views all around them.
They were in the middle of the countryside and it wasn't long before a tense quiet descended over the area. Quiet, that was, apart from Hermione's frequent sniffs.
Although she had begun brightly enough, by ten o'clock she was clearly struggling until she began coughing as well.
In the still of the night, even the slightest of noises seemed like it could carry for miles.
Harry left his position and went over to Hermione who immediately tried to both push him away and hold a large handkerchief to her face.
He wrapped both arms around her and whispered into her ear, "You need to go back, Hermione. Ron will take you."
Hermione relaxed into his arms, and he knew she was admitting defeat.
He leaned in and kissed her surprisingly warm cheek. He couldn't decide if he was very cold or Hermione had a temperature.
He looked up at Ron who nodded at once.
"Come on, Hermione. I think we'd better go to the Burrow. Mum will fix you up, just you see," he promised.
They Disapparated with a loud Crack!
*
Harry checked his watch again. It was now just after ten-thirty when he heard a dull pop!
He was sure that someone had Apparated in the near vicinity, but he couldn't be sure it was Pansy. He looked around, watching for any sign of movement.
After five full minutes, Pansy said, "Taking quite a risk, aren't you?"
Harry turned to see Pansy. There was a half-moon that night, and he could see her reasonably well. She appeared to be alone and was standing clutching herself.
"Can't we go somewhere warmer?" she suggested, a shiver in her voice.
Harry picked up a spare blanket that Hermione had brought and wrapped it around her.
He was surprised to discover she was wearing the same clothes as the last time he'd seen her.
Harry flicked his wand and a blast of hot air erupted from his wand to warm them both.
"Thanks."
"Why didn't you get help?"
"Who from?" she spat bitterly. "Everyone I know is a potential informant. My family would hand me over in a flash. Anything to get a small credit with the Dark Lord."
"I'm sorry. You are sure Voldemort will try to kill you?"
Pansy shuddered violently.
"Don't say the name," she growled angrily. "Of course he wants me dead. He can hardly afford to take the chance that I'm not co-operating with his enemies."
"Why not go to the Ministry then?"
Pansy gave a bark of a laugh.
"Do you seriously think that Miss Alice's recent purges have eliminated all the Dark Lord's loyal followers in place at the Ministry?"
"No," he replied honestly, reaching out and gently pulling one of her hands out. "You really should see a Healer with these wounds. How did you get them, by the way?"
"I'm fairly sure I broke something when I was hammering on the cell door," she replied, "but my fingers were broken deliberately as part of the interrogation."
"I was told you did all the damage yourself."
Pansy just shrugged.
"There is a Healer I think I can take you to. He has a family, so I need your assurance that you won't make trouble for him."
"I just want the pain to stop," she said, pulling her hand back. "Blindfold me. Anything."
"Pansy, I won't allow you to hurt him or his family," Harry said gently. "The only way I will allow him to treat you is if you allow me to temporarily blind you and make you deaf."
"You can't be serious. What if something happens? What if you decide to betray me?"
"You have my conditions. Of course, he may not agree to treat you anyway."
Pansy grimaced with pain before saying, "Okay! I agree."
"Alright. Now, I have some questions for you."
"Can't I be treated first?"
"If you are deaf you'll have trouble listening to my questions."
"Ask away, then, if you must."
"Where are Snape and Malfoy?" asked Harry at once, his voice dripping with pent up fury.
"I've no idea. No-one does and no-one is even wondering where they are. That means the Dark Lord probably sent them into hiding until he's ready to use them again."
"Okay, what about Ollivander?"
"Ollivander? Well, he's certainly made himself scarce. The Dark Lord has made no secret of the fact he'd like him dead, and soon."
"Why?"
"The rumour is that the Dark Lord suspects Ollivander to be a traitor."
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise and Pansy continued, "Well, if not actually a traitor then someone who is less than fully committed to the Dark Lord's cause. He's been waiting for him to show his true colours, only now he'd rather not wait. He won't come right out and condemn Ollivander without evidence, though."
"Why ever not?"
"Ollivander still has some has influence and the Dark Lord has always been careful not to provoke him into a direct confrontation. He did things in his youth that would make your scar fall off."
"Do you know where Ollivander could be?"
"About two months ago he was sighted in Devon. Nothing since then."
"Alright, thanks. If you are ready, I'll blind you before we travel."
"Just how is anyone supposed to get ready to be blinded?" she asked acerbically.
"Um, you have a point, there. I don't think I could be so trusting," he admitted.
"Just get on with it, Potter. How long does the effect last?"
"Until I lift the curse. Until then, you'll have no sight, smell, taste or hearing. You will still be able to feel a little, but you'll find yourself desensitised to hot and cold."
"What if something happens to you?"
"You'll be stuck like it. I doubt if even the best healers could rectify the curse. Anyway, as you said we should get on. If you want to continue, stick your fingers in your ears."
"What?"
"If you hear the curse it will be permanent, Pansy."
She looked at doubtfully for a long moment, clearly trying to decide if he was just messing with her. Then she held up both hands and Harry realised her fingers were probably too damaged to cover her ears with. Pansy, however, twisted her wrists and stuck a thumb in each ear.
Harry raised his wand and muttered, "Voluntas Caecus!"
Pansy's eyes went completely white in an instant. He gently reached up and took hold of her forearms.
She immediately clutched at him and refused to let go. Fortunately a side-effect of the curse meant she was desensitised to the pain of her hands.
"You'll be fine," he promised, although he knew she was now utterly deaf.
*
They Apparated into a generous external lobby provided for Wizard visitors. Harry extricated a hand from Pansy's desperate clutches and pulled the bell cord. He heard a bell ringing distantly at once. It had to be a wizard bell because it played a little tune as well.
The door opened and Harry said, "I'm sorry to disturb you Mrs Spunge. Is Healer Spunge in?"
"Come in," she said at once, reaching out so both she and Harry could guide Pansy over the stepped threshold. Inside, they soon found themselves in a private consulting room.
Mrs Spunge left and Harry could hear her call, "Barnaby, dear? You have a caller!"
Healer Spunge rushed down the stairs and dashed into his consulting room.
"Harry? Are you alright?"
"Yes, thanks. I brought her here because I was worried about the state of her hands. I tried to fix the worst of it, but as you can see her bones are still out of place."
"Indeed," agreed Spunge, gently taking one of Pansy's hands.
Pansy seemed to sense that someone new was present and she instinctively pulled herself towards Harry.
"She isn't normally blind, is she?"
"No. We used to go to school together, but she isn't exactly a friend. I made her agree to me temporarily blinding her before I brought her."
"What did you use?"
"A Voluntas Caecus curse, but I can reverse it."
"That's rather advanced, however I believe you should remove it now."
"That really isn't a good idea. If she recognised you again you'd be in trouble. Think of your family."
"She's that dangerous?"
"We should assume she could be. I don't trust her, and neither should you."
"Lift the curse, Harry."
Harry sighed and did as he was directed. Instantly, Pansy's eyes returned to normal and she scanned the room at once.
"How do you do? My name is Barnaby Spunge. I'm a Healer. I asked Harry to remove the curse because I need you to tell me when the pain has subsided."
Pansy nodded shakily. Harry could see tears forming in her eyes from the pain as feeling returned to her hands.
Fortunately, it didn't take long for Healer Spunge to heal Pansy's hands. In only a few minutes she was smiling widely and flexing her fingers.
"Is there any pain now?"
"No, thank you. I'm completely fine."
Spunge went over to a cabinet and took out a small bottle.
"You'll probably find you have a certain amount of stiffness in your fingers for a couple of days. This salve will help. Rub it in tonight before you retire and again tomorrow morning and evening. If you have any further pain, please come back and see me. Provided you come alone, I'll treat you."
"Don't worry," she assured him with a smile. "You did an incredibly brave thing in telling me your name, especially considering my reputation and the company I've been keeping. I promise that the Dark Lord will not learn anything from me."
It occurred to Harry that this was perhaps the first time he'd every heard Pansy say anything so sincerely.
"I'm afraid I don't have any gold with me," she continued, "but I will pay you when I am able."
"That isn't necessary," he replied with a smile.
Mrs Spunge appeared with a bundle of clothes. She had obviously seen the state Pansy was in.
"Here are some fresh clothes. They are old and worn but clean. We have a downstairs bathroom where you can wash before you leave and I've left a small food parcel for you to take with you. We'll lock you in and the house wards will allow you to Disapparate out when you are ready."
"Thank you," said Pansy, sounding like they were two words she wasn't used to using.
"We can organise somewhere for you to stay if you need it?"
"No, I'd rather find my own hiding place," said Pansy not unkindly.
Mrs Spunge showed Pansy to the bathroom and then bid them goodnight.
"Thank you for this," Harry said to Spunge.
"No problem," he replied with a smile. "We decided after you left before that we would help in any way we can. Could I ask you to lock up before you go?"
"Of course," said Harry as they shook hands.
Spunge bid Pansy goodnight as he passed the open bathroom door and went upstairs to join his wife. Harry could hear a child's sleepy voice complaining about something before the door closed and he realised that the house must be divided so that their private living accommodation was upstairs and the surgery downstairs.
Harry looked into the generous bathroom. There was a large enamelled bath on a pedestal in the middle of the room, a separate shower and twin wash hand basins. The floor, walls and ceiling were all finished in large brilliant white ceramic tiles that appeared to produce their own light. To his right was a stack of large white towels that almost reached up to the ceiling.
The only colour in the room was provided by several rows of brightly coloured bottles of bath oils and soaps in assorted sizes and carefully lined up on white tile shelves around the room.
Pansy was standing and leaning against the nearest basin, staring into the large wall mirror. She looked even thinner than Harry had thought before.
"Pansy," warned Harry gently, "these are good people."
"I know," she replied quietly, unbuttoning the collars of her filthy once-white silk blouse and turning the taps off. "You don't need to threaten me about that. You may not trust me, but I know what you would do to me if anything were to happen to them."
Harry frowned slightly. In truth, he didn't even know himself what he would do. He had hoped to ensure the safety of Spunge and his family by keeping them anonymous.
"Oh, look at the state of me," said Pansy absently, bringing him out of his reverie. "I should have a bath instead."
"Why don't you?"
Pansy turned to face him and it was a moment before he realised he was staring at her. Worse, she had removed her blouse.
Harry looked down and blushed deeply.
"I should be going," he said looking up to see a mischievous smile playing across Pansy's face.
She walked slowly over to him.
"I don't think I've ever seen so scared," she admitted.
"Well, I think that was all part of the process. They wanted to keep you disorientated."
"No, I didn't mean when I was in the cell block. I meant while I was blind."
"Oh. I'm sorry, it just seemed for the best. You were never in any danger."
She smiled and said gently, "I know," as she leaned in toward him. Pansy made no attempt to stretch up to him, but instead she placed her hand on his chest and stroked upwards.
Harry found himself riveted to the spot. He knew he should step back and extricate himself from the position he was in.
Part of him told him that Pansy was vulnerable. Of course she would seek comfort from him. He'd rescued her and helped her again this evening. Besides, he reasoned, he had done nothing wrong or improper.
Another part of him was telling him that Pansy never did anything that wasn't calculated to bring her some advantage. She was just trying to seduce him. It was Hermione who excited him by teasingly running her fingers down his back, just like Pansy was doing now.
Before Harry's internal torment could conclude itself, however, Pansy pushed him away.
"I think you should go now," she said abruptly.
The moment she said this, he realised that despite what his mind told was the sensible thing, right at that very moment he didn't really want to go anywhere.
"Um, right," said Harry, finally managing to move back towards the door. He didn't remember coming that far into the room.
"Don't forget to lock the door after you," she reminded him, turning the bath taps on full.
Harry chided himself as he took a last look at Pansy before he closed and magically locked the bathroom door. She was perched precariously on the bath pedestal and leaning over the deep bath, presumably to insert the plug.
He checked the entrance door was secure and then Apparated out of the house. The Spunge house was actually only a half-hour walk from Grimmauld Place and Harry decided he preferred to get some air before returning.
Although he had hoped to clear his head, for much of the first few minutes the view he had of Pansy leaning into the bath occupied most of his thoughts.
It wasn't only her face and hair that had changed, he reminded himself; and it was more than just weight loss. Pansy carried herself far differently than he remembered. She seemed to have a poise and grace now that he'd never noticed before.
Harry entered the square outside Grimmauld Place from the opposite site to Number Twelve. He hesitated a moment and then looked around to make sure no-one was watching. He then Apparated into the private garden shared all the surrounding houses. Normally the gates would be open, but they were generally chained shut at night.
He sat down on a bench seat and tried to collect his thoughts, facing where his knew the house was but could not see yet.
There was a crack and Kreacher said, "Has Master forgotten his way home?"
Harry snorted and looked down to see the house elf sat next to him on the bench.
"No," replied Harry with a smile. "Mind you, I'm not sure I haven't forgotten something. Did Ron and Hermione get back okay?"
"No. The Weasley said they were staying at the Burrow tonight."
"Oh, right. Yes, I remember now. We might as well go in then."
"Was Master staying out here to avoid them?" asked Kreacher shrewdly.
"Maybe," Harry admitted, standing up.