A/N. Warning - really gory execution scene.
Chapter 43 - The Execution of the Blood Rat
Just outside of London at an abandoned meat processing factory, Dennis Creevey was swearing to himself as he waited in the cold for her, wondering what it was that she wanted. He was pissed at being her errand boy and was sick and tired of being at her beck and call. At least Lestrange paid more. The danger he put himself through everyday was really not worth it and he had enough.
He had met the witch almost two years ago at a research conference in Toronto. He was struggling with his career, making illegal permanent love potions for a living and was looking for employment. The witch was head of the magical research division at a Detroit Hospital and was looking for assistants. One of the screening questions was to write an essay about a children's book called the Story of the Magic Pill. His knowledge of it was from the bedtime story his Mum read to him and his brother Colin up until she died just before he turned six. He must have aced it for he got an immediate appointment for an interview.
Creevey did not enjoy working for her but he had to. She was family; he saw evidence of his ancestry, that his mother was in fact a Squib and not a Muggle as everyone believed she was and he could not turn away. It was his destiny, he was told, to be one of those who would help bring this change in the world to fruition. He was needed to protect Sophie Bruin's legacy, to break down social barriers and inequalities that Squibs and Muggles were subjected to, by helping in the search for and to guard the Bruin cursed who would make the potion the way it was meant to be made.
Fine, that was how it was sold to him but he never did buy into the nonsense. Magic was supposed to make life easier, and at that time, there was nothing in his life that was. Desperate, he was in it for the money, although there was no point for everyone else to know that. And when he was asked to work for Granger to keep an eye on her, he thought nothing of it, especially not after those he was taking orders from started taking orders from Lestrange.
As he thought, it was hogwash. He didn't really care if the purple potion was produced the way it was being produced now. The more chaos it created, the more opportunities to make money. What did he care? It was not his war and he didn't need the potion. The Squibs and the magical beings could figure it out. And the extra dough poisoning Granger to keep Lestrange happy was the least he could do for her allowing him to stay alive. He was a half blood, tolerated by Lestrange because Granger was foolish enough to trust an old schoolmate. What was he supposed to do? Say 'no' to the Death Eater?
He liked Granger. She was decent but, unfortunately, cursed. It had been years since the Hogwarts Sorting Hat thought him courageous enough to make him a Gryffindor but dying for someone else was never his idea of bravery. And to be honest with himself, he was not the same person in Hogwarts. Life in the real world had made him, well, a heartless bastard.
The witch was late as she always was, always expecting people to wait for her. He despised her arrogance.
A series of pops suddenly broke through the chilly air and before he could draw his wand out to protect himself, he was bound and gagged by at least four hooded figures. Panic took over. He struggled with all his might, kicking and screaming for naught, as he was carried off into a large room deep into the empty building.
His captors remained cold and expressed no emotion, none of them even peered through their hoods to give him the opportunity to identify them and beg for his life. The sign on the door caught his eye as they entered.
REFUSE and SCRAPS
He began to sweat fear as he saw the huge rust covered Muggle contraption before him. They set him down on an icy, rectangular tiled table right in front of it; one of them directed a very bright yellow light at him as another manually pressed a button. Loud whirring echoed and bounced around the hollow concrete walls as the machine roared to life and the wide mouthed funnel up on its pinnacle vibrated wildly, as if begging to be fed.
"Please..."
Creevey pleaded over the noise, deciding to concentrate his energies to reason with his foes rather than fight in futility. One of them summoned a rat scampering in the shadows and dropped it into the funnel. Its short-lived squeal was replaced by a brief grinding sound and seconds later, a reddish thick liquid trickled from the connecting trough into a collection drum. Merlin!
"Please…don't kill me…I'll do anything…anything that you want…" he quivered as his mind faltered.
"It's too late to beg for your life," a man answered. His voice was familiar. Quincy, her right hand man. "You should have thought about that before you betrayed your own flesh and blood."
"Quincy, no! You don't understand…"
"You were supposed to protect her."
"I did…I was…"
"Loyalty above all else."
He noticed the Bruin insignia on the sleeve of his robe, the badger with a ferocious and wicked expression.
"Lestrange was going to kill me!"
"You should have let her. She would have been kinder."
With those words, Quincy nodded to an extraordinarily large man, the half giant Hughes, who lumbered over to where he was. Creevey tried to fight back once more but it was useless.
"Let me see. Where should we start?"
Quincy pointed his wand and Creevey's pants became undone, his underwear vanished into thin air. He was trembling from within, incredulous at what was happening and in disbelief at what was about to happen to him.
He mocked what he saw, "Jeez, Creevey. Looking at this I almost feel sorry for you. I even wonder if it's worthy enough to be the place the start."
"Symbolic, if you ask me," one of Quincy's henchmen answered, "Considering how dickless he's acted all this time."
It was decided. Over the next five minutes, he screamed in agony as his captors slowly tore him up into little bits and pieces starting with his least vital appendage, one of them stemming the bleeding, keeping him alive and conscious as long as they could. And after each harvest, they made him watch parts of him go into the funnel in a solid state and come out the other way liquid.
Dennis Creevey was too defeated and too weak to cry out as the Bruins, left with nothing else to rip off, tossed his dismembered head and trunk into the grinding machine.
XXXXXXXXXX
The amount of security, conjured and otherwise, present at the Toronto Ministry of Magic on Queen Street that Thursday morning was astounding. There was a lot of cursing going around as unplanned trips and high level meetings that involved the Supreme Mugwump in combination with any Minister for Magic always brought about an inordinate amount of stress to those responsible for their protection. Thankfully, they were rare and far between.
The gathering was in the unfixed, constantly changing, currently sixth floor conference room of the Ministry. It was exactly eleven a.m. when Ecruminus Brown appeared in one of the seats marked with the names of the invitees to the Potter meeting, the room set to receive only those who were called. The attendees all appeared simultaneously, transported magically by the pull of the enchanted room from wherever in the world they were.
Being the Squib leader for quite a number of years, Ecruminus had met each of the individuals in the room at one point in his life, but never in such an intense atmosphere. Harry Potter and his friend, Hermione Granger, had just been taken into Ministry custody. The Toronto contingent moved immediately after Granger produced the less than half filled phial that he currently had in his hand. Their London counterparts were upset and barbs were being exchanged all over the place. He found the scene disturbing and the squabbling did not auger well for what he had hoped they would accomplish.
"They should be let go!" the visiting Auror Shacklebolt insisted.
"They committed crimes against our Ministry!" replied his Toronto counterpart, Muller, "They cannot go unpunished!"
"They are not the enemy! He acted appropriately based on past experience and she was merely helping a friend!"
"They are loose cannons! Why are you protecting them?! Are they your spies?!"
"Get a grip! There are spies in your Ministry but it's not them. And considering what happened last year, he should not have trusted you with the fact that he found the phial!"
Minister Scrimgeour interrupted, "Kingsley, that's enough!"
"Are you suggesting I'm incompetent?!"
Minister Truelove tried to rein in her Auror, too, "Jack, I do not think Mr. Shacklebolt meant that…"
"You said it; I didn't. You had your chance with Floyd last year and you bungled it. This would be over had you done a better job!"
Wands were drawn and he was about to dive under the table had he not seen the Supreme Mugwump summon their weapons to avert the duel.
"This is why I never had a desire to have children," the grey bearded man commented calmly. "I am hopeful the Ministries can settle the matter of who will get punished, who punishes, and what is reasonable, in a more civil manner. I do suggest that we move on with the more important matter at hand."
Sensing all attention coming to him, he gingerly put the phial at the centre of the table and watched it with the rest. He could not believe he would live to see the day to actually see Grandma Sophie's potion. It did give him a sense of pride that not only was it created by a Squib, it was by his grandmother. That quickly mellowed, put in perspective about what it took to create it.
"The Squib Holy Grail," the Canadian Head of the Department of Mysteries, Gillian Bellow, said under her breath with eager anticipation, "I can't wait to do tests."
"We will do it together, of course," her English counterpart, Unspeakable Hush interjected.
"I hate to point this out but neither of you should. In fact, nobody should," Healer Lana Hama, the Headmistress of the Global Registry of Potionmakers, spoke.
Minister Truelove stressed, "Healer Granger's testimony of what is in it is not enough."
Minister Scrimgeour countered, "I assure you that Healer Granger is highly competent and the reason why she is on our Department of Mysteries retainer. If she says that's what's in the potion, that's what's in the potion."
"She could be the best at what she does but she is not infallible," Minister Truelove replied, "We need at least one confirmatory test and it would be easier if you help us force her to share with us how she did it."
"I'm telling you, none of us should. It is a confirmed Class F potion by a member of the Potionmaker Registry. Section 55 of the International Declaration Against the Experimentation of Magic Enabling Potions, Artifacts and Devices clearly states that any such potion does not require validation, is to be considered as Class F and should be destroyed within a reasonable amount of time," Healer Hama further explained.
"Is that true?" the Canadian Minister turned to her Unspeakable.
"I'm afraid so."
Unspeakable Hush added, "But it was a rule created many years ago and the spirit of the law has always been to protect all of us. In my opinion, safety concerns support us going ahead and finding out more about this potion. This is already on the streets as we speak. We have to be prepared."
"Section 55 is quite clear. The spirit of the law was to prevent someone like us taking it upon ourselves to interpret it any other way," the Potion Headmistress countered.
"Healer Hama is right," the Supreme Mugwump said, "Saying that, the International Confederation of Wizards created the law based on theory and principle. The dire circumstances of the purple potion's existence and impending global distribution may now supersede what was an ideal. Is the health danger posed by an unknown, unproven potion more important than the threat of finding out more about it and its magic enabling properties? Hah! Interesting! I will call for an immediate review and anticipate a lively discussion. It is a worthwhile exercise for us to rethink conflicting priorities."
The Supreme Mugwump seemed too enthused for his comfort.
Minister Scrimgeour said, "I am most interested about what more it can do, to prepare our men who will face those who use it."
It was his turn.
"I oppose any human testing until the potion passes lower level safety tests. I will not agree to Squibs being guinea pigs until then."
"But that could take weeks!"
"Months even! Depending on when we will be allowed to experiment on it!"
The Unspeakables said one after the other in frustration. Should he say that was the point?
"That may be a priority to you but we should not forget the more pressing matter that requires urgent attention, preventing further distribution of the potion. I know it will be difficult but I look to the MLE and the Auror Offices to do everything in their power to neutralize this Squib Floyd."
"I agree, Ecruminus," Healer Hama concurred. "We will have a bigger problem in our hands once use becomes widespread that this hits the press. What about the Bruins?"
Shacklebolt answered, "We all know they will deny their involvement. There is no point to beat a bush that's been beaten before."
Muller replied, "True. At the moment, we are working towards the same goal but if they get in the way, we will make arrests."
Bellow asked, "Should we alert the magical being leaders?"
"I think we should," Minister Truelove opined, "It is important for them to know that they can trust us, that we are against such a potion, that we would like to work with them to keep it off the streets."
"Their current leader doesn't and will never trust witches and wizards. Such news will only incite him and his people into a state of unrest, unnecessary at this point when nothing is certain yet," that was Minister Scrimgeour, "We all know he is looking for reasons to declare war."
All eyes were turned to the Supreme Mugwump who said to them, "We'll wait, for now. I know what you mean, Rufus. I dread the chaos that will ensue if my magical being counterparts learn of this. At this point we may still be able to stop it on our own."
Ecruminus agreed. Such pandemonium would be needless but he could not help but think how magical beings were once again being excluded. Wizards and witches always arrogantly assumed they had all the correct answers.
The Mugwump continued, "Nonetheless, I trust apprehending the Squib and those he is in cahoots with will be the MLE's priority. I'm not one to overstep my role but perhaps, instead of arresting Mr. Potter and Healer Granger, asking for their assistance on the matter would be the wiser road to take."
Ecruminus was so ecstatic about the outcomes of the meeting he had to remind himself not to smile. He could not have wished for anything more.
Little did he know that there was another Bruin in the room who was thinking the very same thing.
XXXXXXXXXX
Hermione paced impatiently within the confines of an interrogation room. She was alone, left there to await further questioning after both she and Harry were taken away from the meeting. They expected that to happen, and she thought she was quite prepared for it. But all the waiting and uncertainty was getting on her nerves.
Did they believe them? What were they planning to do? Were they under arrest?
Harry had come up with alibis for them, simple enough that they were believable. His excuse was based on a mesh of their combined thoughts about the events of that morning; that the attempt to steal the phial from them at the diner reminded him of the cover-up of last year (his), that he called the meeting to make sure all those who needed to know knew that the potion existed (hers), hoping that would lessen the chances of there being another one (his), and that the most rational decision would be made about it (hers).
On the other hand, the defense he came up for her was a blatant lie; she supposedly did it as a favour for an old friend she just happened to be visiting, not knowing where the potion came from or that it was proof on some active case. That could not have been farther from the truth; it was her who 'persuaded' Harry to tamper with the evidence. This was her fault and if there was anyone who should be punished it would be her. She had no problem telling the truth about that and it was unthinkable for her to fib to get Harry in more trouble than he already was.
She argued with him as he insisted. In the end, Harry appealed to her common sense. Unless they lied they would go to prison, her especially considering the phial could be traced back to her, and even she agreed this was not the time to be incarcerated. Being the trusting, oblivious, gullible friend to an Auror who had good intentions seemed to be the best story they could come up with on such a short notice.
It floored her when Harry said that based on serial numbers, the unbreakable phials were part of the lot she ordered a few days ago. She couldn't believe it but she couldn't think of a reason why someone would want to frame her for it. It being some mistake also rang false as it would be too much of a coincidence. She tried calling Dennis but couldn't get a hold of him. She was going to ask if there was something unusual about the order, some mix up, and maybe to check if the ones they still had in the lab were indeed the Romanian unbreakable ones that they were supposed to get. Andy agreed to keep it off the record while they checked into that.
If the phials were being ordered through St. Mungo's and it very likely was, then the potion was being produced in London and pieces were falling into place. She had cried the moment she saw evidence of centaur and goblin tissue in the specimen they had. Even Harry thought the very same thing at the lab though neither of them could mention the names of the centaur and goblin they had on their minds. It wasn't until Kingsley spoke of the strange murder of Firenze and the disappearance of Ragnok at the meeting that it became real.
More and more she was beginning to feel uneasy about all the odd connections that the case seemed to have with her. It was as if she was destined to be in Toronto at that particular moment, that even if the Order had not asked her to persuade Harry to come back, she would have still been involved in this. Her problem was she never really believed in this kind of a preset course that others referred to as destiny.
A pang of guilt washed over her again as she thought about what she got Harry into. She was anxious about it. What if his 'good intention' was not reason enough for the Canadian Ministry to look the other way? What if all that she feared he would get as punishment would come true?
As Hermione seriously considered retracting her previous statement, the door suddenly swung open, startling her. A parade of individuals walked in. Aside from Harry, Kingsley and Harry's Toronto boss, Jack Muller, she did not recognize the two others with them. They looked like Aurors.
Hermione looked at Harry's expression, sensing he had just been in a heated argument and was not happy about something. It was difficult to read anything more into his expression. She glanced briefly over to Kingsley who gave her an imperceptible nod of reassurance. She was in the clear, but what about Harry?
"Am I under arrest?" she asked Muller.
Muller spoke in a firm tone, "No, you're not. In as much as I know you and Mr. Potter here are lying about the extent of your involvement in the matter, I have no proof."
"Are you under arrest?" she asked Harry.
He didn't answer and she could tell he was still simmering beneath the calm front he was putting up.
"No, but he will be subject to a disciplinary hearing at a later time," Muller replied for him, "Healer Granger, we have a proposal we would like you to consider."
Harry shook his head slightly, telling her that she should say 'no'. She turned to Muller.
"A proposal?"
"We understand that Floyd tried to abduct you earlier today. You probably are already aware that the last time you were in Toronto, he and his brother wanted something from you, which we think they never got."
"I'm listening."
"We need to bring Floyd down and we think he will come after you again. We need your help to draw him out into the open."
Hermione could feel all eyes on her, more Harry's than anyone else's. She now understood why he shook his head.
"And what would I have to do?"
"We would like you to stay in Toronto until the end of the Research Conference, attend some talks and perhaps give the one you were invited by the organizers to give. Also, you would have to allow us to intrude upon your privacy and provide you with protection."
Muller stopped talking. She did not even have to think. Her answer was well formed the moment she realized what they were asking her to do and why. Capturing Floyd was key to getting to the potion supplier, to end this before it got out of hand.
Just to cover her bases, she asked Kingsley, "What do you think?"
Kingsley replied, "We need Floyd to get to everyone else. It's dangerous, but it's our only lead right now. You know what can happen if we don't stop Floyd."
With Kingsley thinking the same thing she was, she was more comfortable making the decision.
"What about me? Aren't you going to ask me what I think?"
Harry was definitely irked that she didn't. She didn't have to.
"I already know what you think."
"But I guess what I think doesn't count," Harry countered pointedly.
Actually, it did, but it wasn't the time or place to admit to something personal like that. He already knew what her answer was, too, and she wished he would not fight it. When she didn't say anything, he carried on.
"They're using you just like they did last year. You're going to be bait!"
Floyd was already after her; what difference did it make? It was an opportunity and even if she was bait, at least now, she was an informed one. He must have read her mind.
"Yes, Floyd needs you for something. But you should get protection and lie low, not dangle yourself in public and dare him to make a move," Harry continued, "You've heard what he can do. None of us in this room can guarantee your safety and the next time he comes after you, we might not be as lucky."
And did he really think she would decline because of that?
"I'll do it…" she said to Muller, ignoring Harry's ongoing frustration, "…but only if you grant me two things."
"Just two?" Muller replied, raising his eyebrows.
"I want full access to case files on anything concerning and related to Tom Floyd," she said and explained to wipe the 'why' expression on Muller's face, "I might find something in it that will tell me what he wants from me and that might give you an idea of what he's up to."
That was mostly the truth although she had a more private motive. She also wanted to know the official version of the events of last year. It was going to be difficult, but it was time to face the facts. She imagined she and Harry would have a more in-depth discussion about the past soon and she preferred to have more objective information when they did.
"Fair enough. That should not be a problem," Muller answered, "And the other?"
She thought it was worth a shot.
"Drop all the charges against Harry; I want your Ministry's word that there will be no disciplinary hearing and none of it goes on his record."
Hermione tried not to meet Harry's intense gaze but failed. She did not want to see him look at her like that. She was going to risk her life anyway so she might as well get as much from it as she could. What was the big deal about her trying to do something nice for him?
XXXXXXXXXX
It was already dark out when the Potion Master arrived in Toronto. After dropping off his suitcase at a Downtown hotel, he quickly Disapparated to a home in Willowdale where he met up with Quincy, Hughes and the witch who was their Bruin leader.
"Is it done?" he asked.
"The rat has been, um…liquidated."
"Good. And the unexpected problem?"
"Contained. We've asked family in Romania to make sure the phials don't lead to her."
"Good."
"How did the meeting go?"
"Just as we planned. Section 55 has been repealed by the International Confederation of Wizards, Healer Granger is set to attend the conference and Tilden Toots has confirmed for Day 1."
"Excellent."
"Bellatrix has yet to be informed."
"I will let her know. Now, if only we can keep Floyd from messing this all up."
"Someone mentioned my name?" an icy tone came within one of the rooms and Floyd appeared at the doorway, mocking him as he had in the past. "I thought that voice sounded familiar. Hail, the Potion Master!"
The Potion Master matched his frosty reception. He disliked Floyd but the Squib was a necessary evil if he wanted to succeed.
"Tom," he greeted the man on crutches, "I heard you injured yourself for nothing."
"I was doing fine until that bitch Marsh ran me over. I thought we could benefit from having Granger at our disposal sooner, you know, soften her up a bit."
Floyd tried to justify the misdeed that was not part of their plan. This deviation was troublesome.
"And I needed the practice," Floyd added.
"I can't argue with that. You could have Disapparated before the car crashed into you if you were more skilled."
Or less stupid.
"I could have if you made a better potion."
"Your little stunt just tripled security around her."
"Once I get my legs back, that won't matter. I'll be able to take on a roomful of Aurors, Potter included."
This gung-ho attitude was an undesirable potion side effect.
"How many times do I have to tell you? You are not invincible."
Floyd merely smiled, "Not yet."
"Enough, you two!"
The witch intervened, reminding them both to put their differences aside and work together. They would, for now, but he would have to keep a closer eye on Floyd. Floyd was a git to begin with but he wondered if the potion was bringing that out even more. He would have to keep him on a tighter leash without him knowing it.
The Potion Master had to admit that Floyd's prowess at harnessing the magical skills afforded by the Bruin potion was astounding considering that he developed it over a short period of time. He would have to decide soon how much longer he would allow his distant cousin to live.