Chapter Three
The following takes place between 4:00am and 5:00am on the day of the Wizengamot Ministerial election.
Special Liaison Office, MI5 Headquarters, 4:01am
Draco Malfoy thumbed through the sheaf of parchment pages in his hand. Each one bore a moving picture and a raft of information, detailing everything from age to place of birth to known associates. There was also a large stamp reading Classified Document along the top of each one. These files were the restricted records of all the inmates ever held at the Azkaban wizard prison, as well as anyone ever put on trial for a crime that would land them there. Also included were the files of any wizard under surveillance by the Aurors or their associated agencies.
Malfoy studied each picture carefully, comparing it with the image from the Muggle camera on his desk. It was certainly more difficult to make a positive identification; had the picture been moving it would have been possible to get the subject of it to turn and show his face. As it was, this limited picture would have to do. So Malfoy continued to look at one file after the next, convinced that he would eventually find a match.
But it was slow work. There were literally hundreds of files to look through even after Malfoy had thinned down the list by eliminating subjects who would be out of the age range of the man he was looking for. He knew that even this wasn't a foolproof plan; Polyjuice Potion could be made easily by a better-than-average Hogwarts second year and make its drinker look different to avoid detection. As it was, though, Malfoy had little choice but to pursue this course.
A large pile of discarded files had accumulated on the desk by the time Malfoy found what he was looking for. He checked and re-checked the still Muggle picture with the moving maniac before him. The picture was a few years old and the suspect's hair had been shorter then, but there was no doubt.
"His name is Alexis Algeron. He spent just under six months in wizard prison for a series of violent robberies and assaults. He was also connected with an organised crime syndicate as a debt collector and general thug. The syndicate always managed to cover their tracks, though, so no formal charges were ever made against them or their members."
Director Barnes looked at the two images in front of him, amused as he always was by the magically moving picture.
"And this is the man responsible for killing the wizard up in Barnet?"
"It's possible, though it's more likely that he was just making sure he was dead."
"How so?" asked Barnes.
"There is one curse - a spell - which causes death," said Malfoy. "It's effect is instant and certain. But it is also against our laws and special tracking devices detect if it is used. The people responsible for the murder must have used other, less complete methods. Whoever ordered his death probably wanted confirmation that it had been done."
"To make a clean job of it," said Barnes, nodding. "Is there anything else?"
"The syndicate I mentioned did have one unique quality," said Malfoy. "It was linked to several similar groups operating in your world. They used Fences to share services and resources. The wizards provided protection for the Muggles."
"And this Algeron character was one of these Fences?"
"It was one of his alleged jobs but nothing was ever proven," said Malfoy.
"If he was linked to a crime gang maybe he came under our notice," said Barnes. "Have this image run through our system, cross-check it with people on our watch list. Maybe we'll get lucky. It's hard to imagine our kind and your kind working together."
Malfoy stared at the Director, his eyebrows raised.
"You know what I meant. Have Scott set you up a workstation and see if you can find a match."
"I'm not sure Agent Scott trusts me," said Malfoy.
"Do you trust him?" asked Barnes.
"No," said Malfoy, curtly. "And if he starts asking difficult questions my patience will run out quickly."
"Scott will come to me and I'll deal with him," said Barnes. "Just find out what you can about Algeron. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make."
"Who are you ringing at this hour?"
Barnes gave a sigh. "The Prime Minister."
* * *
4:09am, Zante
Harry was sat up in bed, attention taut. He had heard a noise downstairs, though he didn't know why he was so bothered by it; after all, the security measures on the villa made it a near-impenetrable fortress to Muggle and Wizard alike. Despite this he couldn't shake a feeling of uneasiness as he rose from bed for the second time this night and made his way from the bedroom.
He stopped just outside Lily's room and peered inside. He saw his daughter sleeping soundly in the bed nearest the window, her bad dreams seemingly driven away for the night. He looked at Celesca's bed but she was nowhere to be seen. The bedclothes were disturbed and empty and Harry felt a cold shiver tingle across his skin. He knew that both she and James had returned some time ago and to find her bed empty added to his unaccountable feeling of dread. Senses on alert and wand at the ready, Harry continued down the stairs. He stopped outside the door to the living area, through which the sounds of movement were unmistakable. Slowly, Harry took a steadying breath and opened the door.
He needn't have worried. There, on the floor before him, the source of the noise revealed itself. It was merely James and Celesca sitting either side of a game of Wizard Battleships with bowls of various sweets dotted around beside them. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, pocketed his wand before either of the kids noticed it was out, then crossed the room to join them.
"Alright, Dad?" asked James without looking up. "Fancy joining us for a midnight feast - well, of sorts."
"I thought you'd be in bed by now," said Harry, flopping down into an armchair nearby.
"Oh, you know, we're young, full of energy," said James. "You must remember what that was like, it the dim and distant past."
"I may be old but you're still young enough for me to give you a smack on your behind for your cheek," said Harry. "But I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of Celesca. Though by the looks of this game she doesn't need my help."
Harry was right. The board didn't lie; Celesca had destroyed nearly all of James's ships - they were on fire and sinking fast - while her own ships were undamaged, sailing gaily around with some of the little crewmen nonchalantly fishing over the sides. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that all was not as it seemed; he could see Celesca boring her eyes into James and she was sat on one of her hands, as though she were hiding something in it. Harry had a thought.
"You must be quite the master Battleships player, Miss Shaw," said Harry. "You couldn't cheat to win as convincingly as you are."
Celesca looked up and flashed her most would-be-innocent expression at Harry.
"I'm playing fair, Mr Potter," she said. "I promise. I'm winning, er - legilimately."
"Don't you mean legitimately?" James corrected.
Celesca grinned at Harry. "Yeah - that's what I meant."
Harry chuckled and helped himself to a handful of sherbet lemons.
* * *
4:16
The light of the silent alarm threw that side of the room into a surreal glow. Triggered by the unsuspecting intruder outside, it had alerted the owner of the house and she was now up and dressed. Silhouetted against the light, Hermione Weasley peered through a gap in the curtains, scanning the dark of her back garden in the hope of catching a glimpse of the person responsible for triggering the alarm. It wouldn't be any of the neighbourhood pets - she and Harry and devised the system to rule out domestic animals - and whoever it was remained within the borders of the security field, as there hadn't been a second breach of the boundary. Which meant that whoever was there was waiting, and most likely watching.
Hermione moved swiftly from her bedroom along the landing. She stopped first at Hugo's then at Rose's room, rousing them quickly and quietly and trying to keep the situation calm. Rose responded the better of the two children, adopting her mother's business-like attitude to any situation. She helped Hugo to dress and tried to soothe his anxieties about being woken in the middle of the night.
Hermione, meanwhile, made her way to a special room at the centre of the house. It was her office away from the office; a room full of magical equipment linking her to the Magical Law Enforcement agency. Using a special terminal connected to the MLE office, she checked the data streams being compiled by the late-night workers but found nothing pointing to any major events taking place. Her worries were eased temporarily.
"Rose, is your brother ready?" asked Hermione as she joined her daughter in her room.
"Yes, Mum, but what's going on?" Rose asked.
"I don't have time to explain now," said Hermione. "I don't think it's anything serious. I've just got a bad feeling, that's all."
"It's because Dad's working late again, isn't it?" said Rose. She spoke quietly as if she knew the question was dangerously loaded.
"His work is keeping him busy at the moment," said Hermione, thrown by her daughter's directness. "Though being at home alone isn't the most pleasant thing I can think of."
"And it's worse with Uncle Harry being away, too."
Hermione froze. "What do you mean?"
"Well he looks after you when Daddy can't be here, doesn't he?" said Rose. "You all look after each other. But he's on holiday at the moment so it's just you."
"Yes, yes that's it," said Hermione. "But enough of this talk. Come on."
"Where are we going?" asked Rose.
"To Grandma's," said Hermione. "I've told her you're coming. She and Granddad are waiting for you. Grab your night things."
Hermione ushered Rose towards the master bedroom, stopping to collect Hugo along the way. Once there she lit a fire in the grate of the hearth and took down the bowl of Floo powder from the mantelpiece. Hugo and Rose took a handful each.
"Aren't you coming, Mum?" asked Rose.
"I'll be along shortly," said Hermione. "I have to make sure the house is all locked up first. Go on now, one at a time."
The children did as they were told. As soon as Hugo had spun out of sight from the flames Hermione extinguished the fire and made her way back to the office. She took out her Floo Phone from the desk.
"Auror Office," she said into the brass hoop.
She was met by nothing but silence. She tried again. Nothing. She tried using the special line to Harry but found it as unresponsive as everything else.
"This isn't right."
There was just one other option. Hermione, as the kind of person who likes to utilise all that's available in every situation, had installed one telephone line into her office at the Ministry. She had created an anti-magic bubble around the phone so that it would work in the magical environment. She dialled the number now hoping that someone would pick up.
"Hel-hello? Is this on? How does this work?"
Hermione's heart swooped as a voice came down the receiver. "Aeric? Is that you? It's Hermione speaking."
"Oh, hello, Ma'am," said Aeric. "Did I answer the thing right? I did what you told me to do if it went off."
"It's called ringing, and yes you did fine," said Hermione. "Look, my intruder alarm has been triggered here. I've tried getting hold of the Aurors but I can't seem to reach the office. Is everything alright there?"
"Yes, ma'am, it's all normal here," said Aeric. "I don't know why you couldn't get hold of the Aurors. Is your F-Phone working properly?"
"I think so," said Hermione. "I haven't bought the new model yet but it was working fine the last time I used it."
"It could be the upgrade," said Aeric. "The system was being updated to improve connections and coverage; it might have affected your service. I'll get onto Stian Dahlgren from here and see if he knows about the problem. He did install the system."
"Thank you, Aeric," said Hermione. "If you reach the Aurors can you send someone out to me? It's probably nothing but I'd like to be sure just in case."
"Yes, ma'am, I'll get right on it."
Hermione hung up. Despite Aeric's reassurance she wasn't satisfied that everything was as it should be.
* * *
4:22am
Tom Kennedy closed the folder in his hands as Grabhardt entered the room. The wizard had never trusted the security trolls in Lucien Carlton's service but he readily admitted that they did a good job. They were ruthless and efficient, letting absolutely no-one get within ten feet of the Wizengamot member. Today, Tom felt that this quality of service would be well needed.
"You wanted to see me," Grabhardt said gruffly.
"Yes, thank you for coming so promptly," said Tom. "I just wanted to go over some of today's schedule with you."
"The schedule was drawn up weeks ago," said Grabhardt. "It is done. Why do you want to talk about it again?"
"I'm concerned that there are some open gaps in the route we'll be taking," said Tom. "I'm worried about the Gamot."
"The safety of Gamot Carlton is my responsibility," said Grabhardt firmly. "Are you questioning my plans?"
"I just think there are some areas which need tightening up," said Tom, trying to be firm in the swarthy face of Grabhardt.
"Such as?"
"Let's look at the plans," said Tom. He presented Grabhardt with a roster for the day. "At all the places Lucien will be speaking the security is fine. And for the most part we will be Apparating from one site to the next. However, Lucien wants to take a carriage between several locations which are near each other. I think there are points on these routes where he will be exposed."
"We can close off the Wizarding carriageways," said Grabhardt. "This will reduce the exposure. I will also assign a security detail to the carriage itself. Open travelling is always a risk but the Gamot has insisted on this transportation; these measures are the best solution."
"Thank you," said Tom. "I'll get onto the Roadways Department at the Ministry and co-ordinate the temporary carriageway closures from here."
"You do that," said Grabhardt, before turning on his pointed heel and walking out. Tom was alone to his thoughts. He couldn't get rid of a niggling sensation that something bad was about to happen. What with the gaps in the plans, the threats against Lucien that he was working so hard to conceal…it was all taking its toll. He wanted to put it down to stress, but something kept whispering that there was more to it. All in all, he would be glad for this day to be over with everyone still in one piece.
* * *
4:26am, Thames Valley Water, London
Cillian Coles smoothed the lapels on his white coat and turned to the pressure gauge monitors. He removed a small notebook from his pocket and began jotting down the readings from the gauges. The substance had to be delivered at an exact pressure, one or two bars out would either neuter the stuff or make it dangerous, apparently. Coles didn't know what dangerous meant in this instance, but - if he knew his boss - it was right not to risk it.
Once all the readings were taken down, Coles moved across the office and peered through the blinds. There were a few workers attending their stations nearby but no-one who would disturb the office. Perhaps they didn't dare in the middle of the `inspection'. Coles smirked as he thought how easy these fools were to deceive. He moved away from the office door and took out his Blackberry, entering the information from his notebook into the electronic device. Once done, he forwarded the information to his boss and sat down in the foreman's chair to wait for instructions.
"You don't mind if I sit in your chair, do you?" said Coles. "I might have one of these cigars, too, while I'm at it."
The foreman didn't complain. If fact he couldn't, for at that moment he was face down in the corner of the office, blood seeping from a bullet hole in his temple. He was stone dead.
* * *
4:30am, Sparrow's Nook, Cornwall
Hermione peered again through the gap in the curtains. Whoever was outside had concealed themselves very well. The thickets and bushes towards the pond at the rear of the garden were the most likely hiding place, but with the right magic the intruder could hide in plain sight. Clutching her wand firmly Hermione moved away from the curtains and crept downstairs towards her study.
The large desk at the centre of the circular room was as neat and ordered as always. The polished writing space, watched over by a Hogwarts graduation picture, was free from any clutter, a fact Hermione was glad of as she sat down in front of it. She tapped her wand three times on the desk. Immediately after the third tap the centre of the desk flipped open and revealed a hidden screen; a silvery mist swirled around inside it and fractured images rose and fell like corks bobbing in a barrel. The chances of it working were remote, but she had to try.
For this was the most potentially damaging thing in Hermione's possession. Of all the secretive things she owned or knew about as part of her work this was one of the most covert, and certainly the most morally dubious. She and Harry and secretly set it up years ago when tracking traitors and corruption at the Ministry and Wizengamot; it allowed them to monitor any wizard in the world without their knowledge. It breached all the Wizarding Freedom Rights Hermione could think of, but Harry and convinced her it was the only way to solve that particular case. And he had been right. The magical beacons which allowed this tracking had been dismantled long ago, but Harry and Hermione had kept one open, to allow them to communicate with each other securely and privately. As she looked at the screen, Hermione felt the same pang of guilt that she had become used to when opening it - for she had been using it a lot over the last six months - but her situation quelled the sensation more quickly than anything else had.
"Harry?" she called into the misty swirls. Her screen flickered for a moment but then nothing. Hermione sighed dejectedly. She hadn't really expected him to answer; he was on holiday and wasn't likely to take his mobile relay with him there. Suddenly, for the first time since the intruder alarm sounded, Hermione felt alone. She couldn't contact Ron at the Auror Office; she couldn't contact Harry through his direct line or their private one. Just as she thought there was nothing else to do, something burned against her chest. The coin dangling at her neck was suddenly heating up.
* * *
Harry stared out from the veranda towards the private bay. It was so pretty lit by the moonlight and he appreciated why James and Celesca enjoyed it so much by night. Harry had thought it was because the darkness could hide them and their untoward activities from prying eyes, but now he saw it was a truly romantic setting. He didn't know why, but as he considered this thought his hands found their way, almost by instinct, to the gold coin around his neck, and he thought of Hermione. He tried to chide himself; he had been so determined not to think about her on this trip, but being here, looking at this scene, sent his mind to her. He turned the coin in his fingers again and again, but quickly realised that it might cause her coin to react, and he was sure she wouldn't thank him for waking her at such an early hour. He pushed the coin inside his shirt and went back indoors.
James and Celesca had gone to bed now, leaving their empty sweet bowls littering the floor. With visions of broken legs all over the place in the morning, Harry set to clearing up. Celesca, Harry had decided almost at once, was a very good influence on James, but for all the improvements she had borne in him domestication wasn't one of them. Harry was having bizarre thoughts about how to coerce Celesca into making James more house-proud when a swift movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention.
It had been a shadow, maybe an animal, but something had definitely passed the window above the sink. Harry hurried across to it, deposited the bowls quietly onto the draining board and moved back to the veranda door. His wand was out without him realising he'd even gone for it and he gripped it firmly as he crouched at the doorframe He listened, trying to pick up any sound; a scuffling of feet, heavy breathing, the sound of movement on the breeze. There was nothing. But he was certain he'd seen something.
Staying crouched, Harry moved around the side of the villa, his un-shoed feet making no sound on the cool paving stones. He crept around all sides of the building, staring into the darkness, listening hard for any sound, each time met by nothing. He was about to give up as he reached the veranda doors again when a shuffling noise inside stopped him in his tracks. He took a breath, gripped his wand tighter yet, then pounced.
"Stop where you are!" cried Harry.
"Don't curse me! Don't curse me!" a frightened voice squeaked.
"Ginny? What the hell are you doing?" asked Harry.
"I could ask you the same thing!" said Ginny. "You've been gone from bed for ages. I wanted to see where you'd gone."
"I thought you were an intruder," said Harry, pocketing his wand. "I was about to curse you."
"I know we've had our problems lately but that's going a bit far, don't you think?" said Ginny, smirking.
Harry frowned at her, the smirk annoying him. "I don't think it's funny to make jokes about it."
"I know, you're right," said Ginny. "We came here to get away from it all, didn't we?"
"That was the plan," said Harry.
Ginny stepped close to Harry, the silk of her nightdress clinging to her as a breeze swept it. "Why don't you come back to bed?" she said seductively. "All the kids are asleep, we could have some fun."
"James and Celesca are only just gone," said Harry. "And Lily's having another of her restless nights. Chances are she`ll be up again."
"I've never known a man make so many excuses not to be intimate with his wife," said Ginny, stepping back and fastening her robe. "Things didn't used to be like this between us."
"We're not as young as we were," said Harry. "And I don't think it's appropriate with all the kids so close. These walls are paper thin."
"Don't try and tell me you can't do a silence spell anymore," said Ginny, crossly. "You practically became an expert at them at the Burrow. My old bedroom door will always muffle sounds pretty well."
"I just don't feel comfortable with it these days," said Harry. "And besides, since when did you become an expert on men and their excuses?"
"Don't bring that up again, Harry," said Ginny, sounding exasperated. "I let you use Legilimency on me to prove I wasn't having an affair."
Harry was thrown off guard. "I wasn't talking about that at all. What made you come up with it? I was more concerned that you discuss our private life in such detail with your friends."
"Oh well, all women do that," she replied lightly. "I'm going back to bed. Are you coming?"
"I'll be up now. Just want to check these doors are locked."
"Suit yourself."
Harry watched her go, churning her words over in his mind. She wasn't wrong; lately he hadn't been at all interested in any physicality with his wife. Even hugging and kissing had become a chore. He had put it down to overwork; he had been on a number of field assignments lately and hadn't had much energy for anything else. He wondered now what Ginny's take on it all might be, and why she would have brought up his paranoia about her relationship with the sports writer at The Prophet. Or had she been spying on him? Did she have suspicions about the shady areas of his life? Areas which he'd been able to keep quiet about by pretending they were work-related. He felt the coin against his chest again and wondered if he had been as cautious as he'd told himself he had been.
* * *
4:42am, MI5 Headquarters, London
"I don't understand why you are leaving, in the middle of an investigation. Your timing couldn't be worse."
Director Barnes was animated but Malfoy remained unmoved.
"Last time I checked this was a Muggle investigation," said Malfoy coolly. "I'm sure you and your team can deal with your side of this. Right now I have more pressing issues."
"Communication breaks down every now and then," said Barnes. "It happens."
"Not to us," said Malfoy. "Something is amiss. I have to check it for myself."
Barnes was determined to keep Malfoy with him. A wizard on the loose connected with the current situation made him uneasy. He may not have wholly trusted Malfoy, but he would have preferred him nearby on a day like this.
"And what if more turns up to do with this Algeron character? He's your responsibility."
"I know that," said Malfoy. "For all we know this could all be connected. A wizard at a Muggle crime scene doesn't occur very often, about as often as a breakdown in magical communication. I don't make a habit of being caught with my breeches down, Barnes. I have to make sure."
Malfoy fastened his travelling cloak, took one more look at Barnes and left.
The offices of MI5 and MI6 were separated by a narrow alley which led down to a set of storerooms. Malfoy found himself here now, a familiar space conveniently secluded for Apparition. He made use of it daily, but despite being used to the surroundings the place had a different air to it tonight. Malfoy wasn't the sort to succumb to fits of paranoia or fear but as he stood in the shadows, looking around for any signs of movement, he couldn't shake the sensation of being watched.
He pushed the feeling back and Disapparated, reappearing on Diagon Alley. The street was deserted, winding away into deep shadows in both directions. The wind rustled some discarded papers and assorted litter as Malfoy strode along the street towards the entrance to the large marble building next to Florean Fortesque & Son's ice cream parlour. It were here that the Ministry of Magical Security was located, housing the Auror Headquarters and affiliated agencies. Malfoy's feelings about Harry Potter were always mixed but as he looked up at this glorious building even he had to acknowledge that this was one reform Potter had certainly gotten right.
Malfoy reached into his cloak and removed his wand. He tapped it against a Rune Panel in the door and a small tube emerged to allow the wand to be inspected. This security feature not only confirmed the owner of the wand through residual magical energy (similar to Muggle fingerprinting) but it also checked that the wand was not booby trapped with any dangerous substances, curses or surveillance spells. Malfoy was about to place his wand into the tube when a jet of purple light shot across him and smashed into the doors.
The protective charm over the building rippled and shimmered as the curse hit it and dissipated. Malfoy dived to his left to avoid the second curse aimed his way and rolled under one of the ice cream parlour's tables, upturning it quickly to use as a shield. He peered over the top and scanned the dark street; there were deep shadows opposite, perfect for hiding in.
"I need more light," Malfoy whispered. He aimed his wand into the air and fired a spell. Three white globes shot from his wand and hung high above the street for a second before exploding in a shower of stars, lighting the place as though it were daytime. Across the street, cowering behind a statue of a Quidditch player pointing the way to Quality Quidditch Supplies, Malfoy saw his attacker taken surprise by the sudden explosion of light.
"Stupefy!" yelled Malfoy.
The jet of red shot across the street and took a chunk out of the statue. Shards of the debris fell into the attacker's face and, taking advantage of his disorientation, Malfoy leapt out from behind his table and began firing spells in his direction. The attacker was a skilled dueller, however, and those spells he couldn't dodge he managed to deflect, even firing back a few of his own. The pair duelled along Diagon Alley without either gaining a clear advantage. They were outside Flourish and Blotts when Malfoy had a brainwave; instead of aiming a spell at his attacker he fired it at the heavy awning (a large book and quill) hanging outside the shop. It swung down from its hinge and knocked the attacker clean off his feet. Malfoy advanced on him, but his opponent saw him coming and drew a handful of black powder from his pocket, threw it and disappeared.
"Peruvian Darkness Powder," cursed Malfoy. He scanned the blackness in front of him, knowing full well it was futile. Footsteps fell in the distance up ahead; Malfoy moved around the powder cloud to look up the street but it was deserted. Whoever had been there had fled and most likely Apparated away. Malfoy stood there for some time considering the events before eventually turning and headed back to the Auror Headquarters.
* * *
4:50am, Sparrow's Nook
"Okay, you can't reach Ron or Harry or the Aurors. You're on your own. It's time to act. Come on, Hermione, pull yourself together."
Hermione hated talking to herself and hated referring to herself in the third person just as potently. It was something she tended to do when she was anxious and the trait irritated her normally rational sensibility. She used it now to try and inject some self-belief into what she was about to do. She had decided not to run, but to protect her home and find out what was going on. The only way to do that was to capture the intruder herself.
She was in her study, looking down on a map of her house. She held her wand above the map and cast a spell; a small ball of light eased from the tip and hovered around for a few moments. It moved back and forth before eventually settling at a point towards the back of the garden. Large hydrangea bushes occupied that part of the garden and the locator spell had pinpointed this as the spot where the intruder was concealed.
Hermione moved to her back door and unlocked it as quietly as she could. She tapped her head with her wand and felt the icy chill as the Disillusionment Charm swept over her. She stepped out into the night and looked sharp towards the clump of bushes. They were so dense that even if it hadn't been the middle of the night she doubted whether she would see anyone there. She recalled a game of Hide-And-Seek, where Rose once had hidden behind it, as she moved along the edge of the garden towards them. She knew the spell she'd cast should have made her almost impossible to see but her heart beat hard with every step nonetheless.
* * *
When the door to the house had opened, Callum McDonagh had watched closely for someone to emerge. It hadn't surprised him that nobody had left the house; the Baron had anticipated that the Weasley woman would use a spell to conceal herself. McDonagh screwed up the message in his hand, wondered whether the owl which brought it had alerted Weasley, then realised it didn't matter where he killed her so long as it was done.
McDonagh reached into his pack and took out a pair of Muggle night-vision goggles. They had already been configured to pick up heat signatures and McDonagh felt a grudging respect for Muggle ingenuity as he looked through the lenses and saw, quite plainly, the glowing shape of a person moving his way. He edged to the side of the bush and waited as the woman came closer and closer.
* * *
Hermione thought she heard leaves crumple and crackle as she reached the bush. She thought briefly about stopping but in that instant a clenched fist shot out from the bush and caught her square in the jaw. She reeled back and toppled onto the lawn, dazed and stinging where the punch had landed. She looked up to see the formidable frame of McDonagh lurch towards her. She scrambled up towards her wand which had fallen away from her. It was an inch from her fingers when a boot landed hard in her ribs, the pain and winding causing her to fall down again.
* * *
Harry's hand was still on the bedroom door when he heard the scream. Yanking the door back open, he raced across the landing to Lily's room, her loud sobs clear even in the hallway. James flew around the corner from his room, with Albus close behind, and skidded to a halt as he and his father met. They entered the room together as Ginny scuttled up behind them.
"What is it? What's wrong?" said Harry rapidly as he moved to Lily. She was in a state, crying her eyes out into Celesca's shoulder, jumping into her father's arms as he reached her.
"I don't know what happened," said Celesca, alarmed. "One minute she was fine the next she woke up screaming. I've tried asking her what's going on but she is inconsolable."
She wasn't wrong. Lily was balling hard into Harry's neck, her wet tears rolling down his back. She was also white-hot; her skin stinging Harry's where they touched.
"James, run and get a towel, soak it in cold water, quickly," said Harry. James turned to go but Celesca flicked her wand and conjured an ice pack. She handed it to Harry who smiled and said; "Or that'll do."
They all sat there for a minute or two while Lily cried. There seemed little they could do to calm her.
"What is it, honey?" asked Harry softly. "Did you have another bad dream?"
"It w-wasn't a d-dream," she sobbed. "It was real."
"Lily, I've told you your dreams aren't real," said Harry soothingly. "They can't hurt you."
"They aren't going to h-hurt me," said Lily. "Please, Daddy, you have to do something."
Lily was speaking so passionately that Harry felt inclined to take her seriously. There was also that something in her eyes, or rather behind her eyes, that was impacting on him. He had seen it in her before; it was as though the natural colour had drained from her eyes and they had become very unfocused. Every time she had one of these powerful and unsettling dreams her eyes seemed to take on this quality.
"Do something about what?" he asked her gently. "If you aren't going to be hurt then what do you want me to do?"
"It's Auntie Hermione, she's in trouble."
Harry went very rigid. "Trouble? What kind of trouble?"
"Harry, she's been having bad dreams," said Ginny, who Harry hadn't noticed sitting down on the bed beside him. "Stop asking ridiculous questions and let her get back to sleep. She isn't a Seer."
Harry knew she was right. He took a breath and reminded himself how over active Lily's imagination could be.
"Lily, sweetheart, your mother's right, it was just a bad dream," said Harry.
"There's a man at her house," said Lily, closing her eyes and talking as if she were watching the scene. "He's attacked her. She's hurt but managing to fight back."
"Lily that's enough," said Ginny firmly. "I'm sure it was a very real dream to you but that's all it was. Now everyone just go back to bed. Harry, make sure she gets some sleep."
Ginny looked pointedly at him and Harry knew she was thinking about using magic to put Lily to sleep. Slowly, everyone went back to bed, James being the last one to leave the room after saying another goodnight to Celesca. Harry looked at Lily; she had stopped sobbing but was still whimpering quietly. Harry couldn't leave her like that.
"Lily, it was just a dream," he said softly. "That's all it was."
"No, Daddy, it was more than that," said Lily, shaking her head. "You have to believe me."
"Believe that you can see the future?"
"It's not the future, its happening now," said Lily. "I know she doesn't believe me but she never does."
"She has a name," said Harry. "Its `mummy' to you. And she's right about this."
"Will you please just check on Auntie Hermione," said Lily. "Just in case everyone's wrong and I'm right."
"I'll check on her in the morning, ok?" said Harry. "Come on, get into bed."
Lily sighed in resignation and allowed herself to be steered under the bed sheet, immediately turning to face the wall.
"It'll be too late by then," she said. "Goodnight, Dad."
There was nothing more to be said. Harry got up and slowly left the room. He had reached for the handle to his bedroom when he paused. He didn't think it would hurt to check on Hermione. It wouldn't take very long and it would put this whole issue to bed. There was also the other inducement he didn't want to think of too consciously; hearing her voice would be quite nice, too. Mind made up, he once again made his way downstairs.
* * *
4:57 am, Somewhere in Shropshire
"What do you mean Malfoy is at the Ministry?"
"He was too good for me, my Lord. He out duelled me, got the jump on me, I barely escaped with my life."
"Pity…Avada Kedavra!"
Marcus Flint dropped dead at the Baron's feet.
"If Draco Malfoy has managed to get into the Ministry then we have a serious problem."
"Yes, Nelson, I realise that," said the Baron.
"We should let Dahlgren know, so he can be prepared," said Nelson.
"We haven't heard from Stian in over an hour," said the Baron. "We can assume something has happened to him. In any case, Malfoy will have him now."
"We can only hope he doesn't break," said Nelson. "He could compromise everything we've worked for."
"Stian will hold out for a long time. Even so, Malfoy is as callous and ruthless as any when it comes to interrogation. He learned from Potter himself. He's even tougher so he can try and clear his family's name. Stian will he hard pressed to hold out for long."
"Let's hope he holds out long enough," said Nelson. "Perhaps he has been killed. That's something to hope for."
"It won't matter if he is alive and does break," said the Baron. "We're too far advanced for them to stop us now. They won't even see us coming. I need to check on the progress of our little surprise. Leave me now."
* * *
Malfoy hid in the shadows as he surveyed the ruined office. Scorch marks on the walls, cubicles smashed and debris everywhere. There were no Aurors in sight. He crept up to the corner of the wall he was hiding against and peered around. There was someone crouched over a desk near the Head Auror's office.
"Don't move!" cried Malfoy diving out of his hiding spot. A little voice squeaked in surprise and Amanda Banks span around quickly. Malfoy could see her hair had been singed in places and he felt less inclined to curse her.
"Please, Sir, don't hurt me," said Amanda in a tiny voice.
"You're the junior Auror I spoke to earlier," said Malfoy. "Where is everyone else? Where's Dahlgren? Weasley? Someone should be on night duty."
"That was me, Sir," said Amanda. "Dahlgren took me by surprise. He did all this. He destroyed the communication systems. We can't reach anyone."
"Not even Potter?" asked Malfoy. He was now at her side and peered over her shoulder into the office. "He took that out too?"
"Yes, Sir, everything," said Amanda. "Not just that; he disabled all the Trackers too. The Unforgivables can be used without us knowing."
"Things are worse than I thought," said Malfoy. "Where is Dahlgren?"
"There."
Malfoy looked to where Amanda was pointing. Dahlgren was in a chair, restrained by powerful magical binds.
"Impressive work," said Malfoy.
"I'm glad you're here, Sir," said Amanda, then suddenly began to cry.
"Auror, you must be stronger than this," said Malfoy. "You've done the hard part. I'll take over now, but I can't get this communication back up alone. I need your help now."
"Yes, Sir, I'll get to it," said Amanda, drying her eyes.
"Good girl," said Malfoy. He turned to Dahlgren. "Now, Stian - you're going to tell me everything I want to know, it's just a question of how much you want it to hurt."
* * *
Hermione let out a howl of frustration and pulled another leaf from her bushy hair. She was having a hard time accepting that she could have made so elementary an error and done everything so wrong. It was an amateurish mistake and her reproaches on herself were violent. She didn't think she'd be able to face Harry with the embarrassment of it all. She looked down at McDonagh, out cold and suspended an inch or so off the floor.
"Right then, whoever you are," she said to the prostrate form before her. "Maybe I can't get hold of anyone to help me but I'm not totally useless at extracting information. A couple of drops of Veritaserum ought to do the trick; but for breaking into my property, I think I'll use the whole bottle! Let's see what you know."
5:00am
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