Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, and so not mine.
Spoilers: Books 1-4
Pairing (if any): Not in this chapter
Author's Notes: ----
Summary: This is basically a story chapter. Things happen, story stuff, the story progresses. I needed to put this one in so the next chapter will be able to follow on, hopefully picking up a bit of H/Hr interaction for all you shippy ship shippers.
Foe
Harry managed to get onto the train just as the doors closed behind him.
"Phew!" he sighed. "Made it."
Noticing that there was no chance in heck that he'd be able to get a seat on the busy underground at 5pm, Harry settled for standing against the metal pole in the centre aisle. A heavily pregnant woman was sat on his left and a young man listening to a personal stereo was sat to the right. Neither made a move to smile or acknowledge his presence even though he was staring right at them.
"Londoners," Harry muttered under breath barely escaping his lips. He was still panting from the run…the run from Kings Cross station to the London underground, using the Ministry of Magic's brand spanking new scheme of 'flitting'. 'Flitting' was like running only you were faster than a muggle could spot. Really handy, wizards and witches everywhere were using the new form of travel. Overseas travel wasn't advised though.
Smiling absently to himself as he remembered a song he'd heard on the Wizarding Wireless that morning, he closed his eyes and leant his head against the metal pole. Relaxation came in short bursts for Harry Potter. He had been under a gigantic pile of paperwork at the office. Considering he had left the Phoenix Squad, the Ministry had given him a quaint office job to tide him over while the final papers could be sorted. His hand and brain ached from thinking and writing much too quickly for his usual steady mind.
Without warning, the train lurched forward, knocking Harry's head into the metal pole. The lights were shut out and all Harry could hear was the screaming and shouting of many people as he rubbed the sore spot on his head. There would definitely be a bruise there tomorrow.
Using the pole, Harry got to his unsteady feet and tried his best to see into the thick blackness. The only lights were very tiny flickering lamps from inside the tunnel. With a few more short bursts of movement, the train came to complete halt, sending everybody forward and knocking Harry into the metal pole once again.
Feeling more than slightly dizzy from the knocks to his head, Harry stood up and tried to no avail to see. He thought about using his wand but around so many people, it'd be a risk. He thought of apparating out like he'd heard some other wizards do moments ago, but he couldn't leave all these people.
He edged forward bit by bit until he came to the control box at the front of the dark train. He pushed it open and heard it clang against the metal chairs.
"Hello?" he asked into the darkness.
There was no one in the control box. How could there be no one in the control box? Someone had to have been driving the train. Unless they'd fled the train to fetch help or to get to higher ground to use their radios to contact help for the train.
He believed that until he heard the unmistakable sounds of deathly screaming from the train's carriages.
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"Come out, come out wherever you are," a thick, slimy voice drawled out from the carriages. "Here Blacky, Blacky!"
The voice, the sounds…they were all linked. Some alarm belles started to ring inside Harry's head before he realised his predicament.
"Lucius," Harry stated, walking into the carriage filled with terrified passengers.
Sure enough, standing in the centre of the carriage with a circle of space around him, stood Lucius Malfoy, walking cane and all. His hair was still slick and straight but was now white, strikingly white. His face looked no more aged than Harry did, but his aura was fragmented. His thick winter cloak clung to his body like a leech, sucking the very soul from his body. Black, it seemed, was Lucius' favourite colour.
"Ah!" Lucius smirked. "My favourite playmate has arrived at last!"
Harry leaned nervously against the metal bar. He'd been trained for something like this, his emotions were kept in check, and they had to be. If you react with an emotional decision, it could cost you your life. It hadn't failed him yet; he'd always relied on logic to see him through to the final curtain call.
"What brings you to this neck of the woods, Goldilocks?" Harry said smoothly.
Lucius smirked and added a small, courteous laugh. "He has developed a sense of humour, I see. Such a shame,
the world's most professional Auror reduced to a witless monkey at the first sign of Lucius Malfoy."
Harry stepped a few steps forward. "When did they let you out, Malfoy?"
"I believe it was the day Miss Granger was having a beverage with the young Weasley," the blonde man said. His face twisted into disgust as he remembered whom Draco had chosen for a life partner.
"Hermione?" Harry said aloud, the thought of her mulling over in his head. "What do you know about her?"
Lucius laughed and shook his finger at Harry's rash behaviour. "Temper, temper, Mr…Black is it? Clever, I would have chosen something a little more discreet. I guess we all can't be marvelled for their strategic genius can we? We're not all Hermione Granger."
This time, Harry's temper got the better of him and he reached for his wand. Before he could pull it out of the holster, Lucius had shouted "Expelliarmus!" and disarmed Harry's attempt at retrieving his weapon.
Lucius pointed his wand at Harry but made no move to come closer. Instead, he shook head disapprovingly.
"I'll share something with you, Mr Black," Lucius said, sitting down next to a cowering woman. "Something I have been mulling over in Azkaban all these years.
"Muggles are weak a feeble creatures themselves. Their tools, trains, cars, guns, telephones…they all protect
and connect each other to the world around themselves. But…"
Lucius twirled his wand around his hand before looking back up at Harry.
"But without these possessions, these defences…they have nothing. Without technology, the Muggles are at the bottom of the food chain. And yet, we, the Wizarding population are made to hide ourselves from these lower beings, these Muggles, because we are different. We can protect ourselves without the need for guns or an armoured tank. We have the knowledge; we have the History…
"We have the power."
Harry cocked an eyebrow. "And in the end, it's a power game?"
Lucius gave a curt nod before grasping his wand at the handle. "That it is, Mr Black. It is a game based on and competing for power. Those who have it will live. Those who don't will die."
"And you really think it's that simple?" Harry tried to go for his wand again but was stopped.
"The Ministry will be coming after you any second, I'm surprised they're not here now. You'll go back
to Azkaban for this."
"Do not threaten me, boy," Lucius growled, raising his wand and standing. "You do not have the power to threaten me."
Something fell at the back of the carriage, making the noise of a gunshot. This momentarily startled Lucius, as he turned to find the source of the noise. Harry used this time to pick up his wand. Now they were even, now the match was on.
"Who has the power here, Malfoy?" Harry asked, trying to think desperately of a good stunning curse.
Lucius smirked, "Why, me of course."
It took barely a second for Lucius to extend his wand at one of the male passengers. With a blood-curdling scream, the man twisted into deformity and had most assuredly died in the process.
"You see," Lucius stated. "If we didn't have the power, we'd be nothing more than Muggles
ourselves. Let's use the power we have to the full potential. What do you say Mr Black?"
Harry looked at the crumpled corpse lying in the growing pool of blood at his feet. The man's face was nearly unrecognisable but blood was still seeping through fresh wounds somewhere. Harry quickly shook himself out of nausea; he'd seen a lot in his time as an Auror. This was no different. He couldn't let this feel any different.
"What do you intend to do?" Harry asked, trying to blink back the sick feeling that was developing in the pit of his stomach.
"Show the world what Voldemort can do without trying!" Lucius shouted.
Just as he screamed, the carriage lit up with blinding green light. The glass in the windows shattered and screams could still be heard over the shattering and screeches. Harry tried to move but was held stationary, by what he didn't know but he couldn't move. He just couldn't move. His arm was locked by his side, his wand still clenched firmly in his grasp but his body was ridged and out of his control.
Suddenly, the control box door flew open with a gust of powerful wind. Harry felt something hit him squarely in the chest and he was flung backwards, out of the control box door and onto the metal rail tracks. His glasses shattered somewhere behind him when they'd fallen off and his back was murdering him slowly. He writhed on the floor trying to get some control back into his aching body. When he finally could sit up, the carriage was still surrounded by a green light, much brighter from outside than in.
Harry grabbed his wand and tried to re enter the carriage only to be flung back again onto the tracks, hitting his elbow on the joint, shattering the bone. He cringed in pain and it his lip, so hard that he thought he might've touched his own teeth. He could feel the stinging of his lip and taste the blood as it flowed into his mouth.
With a loud crack, the carriage exploded, sending pieces of metal flying everywhere. Harry quickly conjured a shield to protect himself from the flying debris and was successful. The debris bounced off his shield as he lay there, breathing in, trying to get some feeling back into his body and brain. What had happened here? Why was Voldemort attacking now and with Lucius Malfoy? How did he get released?
Once the scattering debris had settled, Harry clawed his way up through the mountains of metal and slumped down against the brick wall. Muggles had died here tonight, Muggles that he hadn't been able to protect. How could he explain that?
He tried to perform a healing spell on his elbow but it was ineffective. He could barely lift his wand nevertheless bend his arm. He couldn't cast with his left hand so his only option was to try and signal for help, or at least get out of the tunnel.
Staggering to his feet, he moved down the tunnel towards the nearest platform.
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Hermione hadn't been up for more than ten minutes before she had a cup of coffee in front of her and the morning newspaper. Ginny was standing beside her; a tea towel slung over her shoulder and the widest grin on her face that Hermione had ever seen. She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee before leaning back in her kitchen table seat and looking at her friend.
"This is about the Leaky Cauldron isn't it?" she asked.
Ginny nodded, still with the grin on her face. "I've already made it clear how sorry I am that I totally
and completely forgot about our weekly meeting this week. But…"
The red head whipped around the kitchen until she found the plate she was looking for and proudly placed it in front of Hermione. "I made breakfast!"
Hermione really felt too stunned to respond. There were eggs, bacon, sausages, waffles, French toast, normal toast, fried tomatoes, plum tomatoes, mushrooms, potato cakes and pancakes. Considering Ginny didn't even know how to work the toaster, making breakfast was like climbing Ben Nevis with paper shoes.
"I can't believe you did all this," Hermione stated, digging into the best breakfast she'd ever
had. "But really Gin…you didn't have to do all this just to say sorry."
Ginny shrugged as she sat down to her own breakfast. "Maybe, maybe not, but I enjoyed doing it. I got a few
handy hints from Draco and mum. Maybe I'm not as bad a cook as I thought I was."
"Your mum was up at this time in a morning?" Hermione asked raising an unbelieving eyebrow. Now that she had no more little ones to look after in the mornings, to feed and the like…Molly hardly ever got up before ten and it was half past eight.
Ginny nodded. "Draco too. He felt kinda bad about the whole Leaky Cauldron thing. He said that he felt like an accessory to the crime I committed."
"Well, all is forgiven and forgotten," Hermione replied, finishing off her bacon on a piece of tomato soaked bread. "Where is Draco anyway?"
"He got a call really early this morning," Ginny replied with a sip of her morning coffee. "Something
about the Ministry and something and someone…can't exactly remember. He did say something to me…but you know me and
three in the morning. I was straight out when he left."
Hermione sighed and drank some more coffee, glad to have something in her bloodstream that would turn her into a super energiser bunny the moment she stepped out of the door. "I should be going in a minute. Ugh, I wanted to catch the news this morning. I'll just have to catch tonight's evening report."
As the girls cleared away their breakfast dishes, the morning's Daily Prophet lay forgotten on the kitchen table.
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Draco Malfoy paced through the office with a worried and fearful look set on his brow. He'd been awake since three that morning and hadn't had a decent cup of coffee in nearly four hours. He felt jittery. He felt ill and he felt like lunging for the Minister's throat when he was to walk through the door.
According to the owl Draco had got that morning, Harry had been found in BrookHolme beaten and injured trying to get hold of an owl to send. It had been Remus who'd found him when Harry had turned up on his doorstep in the early hours. Thankfully, the Ministry had been alerted straight away to the incident on the train but they were still at council about what 'really happened down there.' So far as Draco could tell, it didn't look like Harry was going to get a good deal out of this, no matter how many powerful contacts he had shoved under his belt.
With Draco being Harry's friend and lawyer when he needed him, he'd rushed down as soon as he'd got the message. If indeed it was an attack from Voldemort as Harry had said, something wasn't going to be right along the way. The Ministry had decided that the Voldemort threat was still very alive but the threat of him attacking Muggles or bystanders was minimal. This would not only prove them wrong, but also prove that they didn't know what they were doing.
Draco had been asked to stand outside the room while Harry was interviewed. Must to his reluctance, Draco had finally accepted but only if he could stand behind the blackened glass so he could still see Harry and his movements. The Ministry Police accepted and took Harry in for the interview.
"And that's all that happened," Harry finished, holding the mug of hot chocolate in his hands, something which had always calmed him down since his Hogwarts days.
The Interrogator looked disbelievingly at Harry through his half-moon spectacles. The half-moon spectacles reminded Harry of Professor Dumbledore, although the man behind them was not as nice and kind. He wore a nametag that said 'Dr Griffith' on with a moving picture of himself.
Dr Griffith wrote something down on the parchment notepad he was carrying and put it down on the desk that separated Harry and himself. "That's all you could conclude from the attack? That it was some act of terrorism from You-Know-Who."
Harry sighed. "It wasn't 'some act of terrorism'. He was trying to tell us that his power's growing."
"Who told you this?" Dr Griffith asked, raising an unbelieving eyebrow.
"Lucius Malfoy," Harry said.
Behind the blacked out glass, Draco gasped. How could his father have been out of Azkaban? It wasn't possible, it couldn't be possible. He belonged in there, he should have died for what he did but…he was out?
Dr Griffith smirked and brought out a small notepad from his jacket pocket. "You mean Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater and Prisoner in Azkaban Fortress?"
"He's not much of a prisoner if he's out and roaming around," Harry replied setting the mug down on the table.
"And he's not roaming around if he's in Azkaban," Dr Griffith smirked. "He never left
Azkaban, Mr Black. Guards have been surrounding his cell for the past three years, there has been no chance of escape
or even any contact with the outside world."
Harry rested his head on his hands. "Voldemort doesn't need telegrams or owl post, Dr Griffith. He can speak into your mind."
There was a knock on the door and to Harry's joy it was Sirius calling a break. Harry and Sirius walked down to the council room and sat down to talk things through when Draco burst through the door, holding a clipboard and several sheets of paper with it.
"We have no case," Draco said, throwing the clipboard down onto the table and pacing about the room, hands on hips. "We have no case."
"What do you mean 'we have no case'?" Sirius asked, standing up and taking the clipboard, reading through the papers attached.
"I mean," Draco said again. "We have no case. He's just thrown that at us."
He pointed to the clipboard, which Sirius read aloud.
"Due to the time and placement of the attack, and only having one witness, we are unable to provide specific evidence to pinpoint the attack as a terrorist action. We are therefore, taking up the claim that Harry James Black is the perpetrator in this case, having caused the death of twenty-six Muggles and four Wizards. In a test conducted by the Enchantment and Magic Administration board, Harry James Black cast the last spell initiated in subway tunnel section 4. The spell cast was from his designated wand and is an unknown spell. Nevertheless, this is the spell believed to have caused the devastation found in the subway tunnel. All acts of this nature are to have a sentence imposed on, possibly including Azkaban Fortress. Further details to follow."
Sirius shook his head in disbelief as he slammed the clipboard down onto the wooden desk. "This is ludicrous! It's…it's outrageous! How can they think that you'd do something like this?"
"He's not Harry Potter remember!" Draco said sitting down next to Harry. "Harry Potter never existed.
"Maybe," Sirius replied. "But Fudge knows. Why doesn't he step in about this?"
Harry shook his head. "Fudge sees what's in front of his eyes. He sees a chance to get a terrorist from
Voldemort, he'll seize the moment. It'll put his votes back up anyway."
"Well I'm not voting for him," Sirius pouted, sitting down on the desk like a small child.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Did you ever?"
"That is not the point," Sirius snapped.
Harry laughed but sobered up when he remembered the case. "So, what're we going to do?"
Draco sighed and puffed out his chest. "There's nothing we can do. We say it wasn't you, they throw that back at us." He pointed to the clipboard. "We say it was a natural disaster. They prove you hand a wand in your hand at the time."
"So we have to prove that Lucius was there?" Sirius asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "We find Lucius…"
"We get the proof," Draco finished. "Veritaserum should work on my father, all we have to do is
provide the person."
"And it's safe to assume that Lucius Malfoy had left a trail of breadcrumbs from the underground," Harry remarked sarcastically. "Honestly guys, we're not going to find him. In a world this big, he could be anywhere. We haven't the faintest idea where to look for him or if he'll strike again for that matter."
"Then the first plan of action is to find out if Lucius Malfoy is still in Azkaban Fortress," Draco replied. "And if it's the real Lucius Malfoy. Remember the old 'swap-and-change' with Barty Crouch Jr? Father dearest has a lot of allies that could have him out by now."
Sirius looked at Harry for a second with a thoughtful look then turned to Draco. "Is there anything we could do to buy some time?"
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