Author Note: Hello to my tiny band of secret readers! I'm surprised anyone's reading, to be honest, but I hope you precious few are enjoying it so far. Sorry about the long wait between updates, any previous readers of mine will know that's not like me. Its just that the planning and execution of each chapter takes ages! I don't know what I've gotten myself into this for, lol. Which brings me onto `mega-chapter' alert. This one is long. Hope you like it anyway. Ciao!
Chapter Four
The following takes place between 5:00am and 6:00am on the day of the Wizengamot Ministerial Election
Events occur in real time
5:00am, The Hermeticas Villa, Greek island of Zante
The first hint of dawn was creeping slowly across the cloudless skies of the distant horizon. The black of the night sky was shifting gradually to a deep azure; soon the first shafts of sunlight would ping across the sky and shimmer in the waves below, the moon would slope down behind the hills and the new day would have arrived. The late night Muggle revellers begin to drift home from the clubs and pass the villa, not even knowing it is there.
Inside it, Harry quietly stepped outside with his F-Phone in hand and closed the veranda door behind him. He sat down on the nearest patio chair and flicked the communicator on. A small green flame shot around the golden hoop and Harry spoke into it.
"Hermione Weasley."
He waited, for Hermione never did answer very quickly. He waited a full minute before the first hint of worry slipped into his mind. He repeated his query and was met by the same static. Not for the first time that night Harry felt the hairs tingle on the back of his neck.
"Ron Weasley," Harry said into the hoop. No answer came back. He knew Ron was on assignment and probably snoring in some hotel or another. "Auror Office…anybody."
Harry threw down his F-Phone, now little more than a useless ring of fire. He got to his feet and made his way back inside, heading for Lily's bedroom. Now more inclined to believe her he wanted to know everything she'd seen. He reached her bed and gently shook her. She wasn't sleeping.
"Honey, come with me, quietly," said Harry, helping his daughter from bed.
"What is it, Daddy?" she asked.
"I'll explain when we're downstairs," said Harry, closing the door gently so as to not disturb Celesca. He then led Lily back down to the living area, sitting her one side of the breakfast table before taking a chair opposite her. "Okay, sweetheart, I want you to tell me everything about your dream. How it happened, what you saw - everything."
"Oh, you believe me now?" she said acridly, reminding Harry strongly of her mother.
"I can't reach Aunt Hermione," said Harry simply. "You can be angry with me later if you like, but right now I need your help."
"So she is in trouble?" asked Lily, looking terrified.
"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," said Harry. "I need you to talk to me, now."
"Well, it started like it always does," Lily began. "I was having a normal dream about something stupid -"
"What was it?"
"I was, er, playing chess with a talking carrot, Dad," said Lily. "The pieces were made of cheese…"
"Okay, okay, what happened then?" asked Harry, stopping Lily in mid-crazy rant.
"Well then the dream just stopped and it felt like I was awake and watching my dream," said Lily. "That's what it's always like. It was dark but I knew I was in a dream again. Next thing I'm at Auntie Hermione's house. A man was hitting her…she was trying to get her wand but she'd dropped it and it was far away…he hit her again then she just looked at him really hard."
"Then what?"
"He sort of collapsed," said Lily. "It was like she'd done a spell but she didn't have her wand. That's not possible, is it?"
"Your Aunt Hermione is the most powerful witch I`ve ever known," said Harry. "Nothing would surprise me with her. Was she okay after?"
"She looked alright, but she was bleeding and limping."
Harry felt an horrific jolt of pain at Lily's words, as though the image of an injured Hermione cut through him like he was suffering himself.
"Daddy, you believe me, don't you?" said Lily. She looked so earnest that Harry's weakness for her overcame him.
"Yes, sweetie, I believe you."
She darted up and threw her arms around him. "I knew you would in the end. Mummy doesn't believe me. I've told her loads of times but she tells me I'm making it up. She wants to send me to St. Mungo's."
"Lily, you're going too far now," said Harry.
"No, Daddy, I'm not," said Lily plainly. "I have the letter they sent to her. I hid it."
"What? You're serious?" asked Harry, anger rising in him.
"Yes, Dad," said Lily. "I don't know what she wanted me to go there for but please don't let her take me."
"No-one's taking you anywhere," said Harry. "I promise. Now come on, back to bed with you."
"Daddy, I read in a book Celly left at home about a Sleeping Spell," said Lily. "It said it can make you sleep without dreaming. Can you do it on me?"
"Lily, I don't want to cast a spell on you," said Harry.
"Please, Daddy! My dreams scare me and I'm so tired."
Harry looked at her; she looked so fragile and helpless he gave in. "Alright, come on. Let's get you some sleep."
After Harry had put Lily out for what was left of the night he made his way to the bathroom and shut the door. If all communications were down something bad was going on. He needed to find out and there was only one quick way he could think of. Pulling off his neck chain he took the gold coin which hung from it and held it to the light. The coin had a small dial and a button embedded in the edging; the dial contained all the letters of the alphabet, pressing the button embossed each letter onto the coin to make a message. Harry set to work.
- R U OK -
Harry had met many Muggles during his work and had become used to Muggle mobile phones and so-called 'textspeak'. He and Hermione had found it a useful shorthand for communicating using their coins. Harry touched his wand against the coin to send the message, then he waited, his eyes fixed on the little golden disc. He didn't have to wait long for a reply, though the answer chilled him.
- No. Help, plz -
Harry's head was swimming and he could barely collect his thoughts. There was only one thing for it - he had to go to her. He headed for the bedroom to change.
* * *
5:07am, Shropshire
The Baron pulled the red scarf up around his face, fastening it to clasps in the hood of his travelling cloak. The events of the morning were playing in his mind, and they unsettled him. Everything to this point and gone smoothly and largely unnoticed. The traitor killed in Barnet had infiltrated them on another assignment; the fact that he'd stumbled onto at least part of the plan was just bad luck. But he was dead and the Baron was strongly convinced that he hadn't passed on the information he'd uncovered. Even so, his confidence in the events to come had been shaken. At this final hour, when the most important components of the plan were to be implemented, some glitches had started to appear. The Baron was never one to leave things to chance.
So overseeing this final delivery had taken paramount importance to him. No-one else could be trusted with a task which had now become crucial. It was possible that the Aurors were alerted to a coming threat; Draco Malfoy would certainly know something was afoot and he would have to be dealt with soon. But that was for another time and losing sight of the nearest objective would jeopardise everything else. The Baron would not let that happen.
"You are sure you want to travel alone?" said Armitage, helping the Baron fasten his scarf. "We could send members of the Brotherhood to shadow you."
"No, I want you all to remain where you are," said the Baron. "We cannot arouse any suspicion now that the Aurors may be on the lookout. It will be easier for me to work alone. I wont let the plan fail now."
"But, my Lord, the risk -"
"The risk of getting caught is minimised by my acting alone," said the Baron. "My powers are far greater than any of yours. I can move about undetected, and take on any foolish Auror who crosses me."
"Very well, Sir," said Armitage, giving in. "I shall alert the brewers, let them prepare for your arrival."
"Good. Now I must go."
The Baron turned and left the manor house. He moved a little away from the building, down the sloping lawns to a dais set into the garden. It was the only point not covered by the Anti-Disapparation Jinx which had been cast over the property; essentially, it was the only magical way in or out for some distance around. The Baron stepped onto the dais and was about to Disapparate when a whistle sounded from his pocket. Reaching inside, he took out the notebook he always carried with him and turned to the first page. There was a message waiting for him.
-We have a problem
It was from the contact watching Harry Potter. This couldn't be good. The Baron reached for his personal Self-Inking Quill and replied,
What is it?
- Potter may be in play
How is that possible?
- Overheard a conversation with his daughter. Her special skill may have put him on to H. Weasley being in danger
Does he believe her?
- He always believes his little girl. May not have gone too well with McDonagh.
The girl saw something again? I knew sending McDonagh was a mistake
- Doesn't matter now. Potter will try and reach Weasley. When he cant, he will go to her
Then we have to proceed on an accelerated timetable. You have to keep him there. He cant leave
- That wont be easy.
I know you'll do your best. It wont be long till we are ready. Keep Potter occupied for as long as you can
- And if he resists?
Deal with him.
- And the kids?
The same
- The Shaw girl, too?
Kill them all. None of them can be allowed to be a problem, now or in the future. Make it a clean job. I'm counting on you
- I wont let you down. I'll get to it.
The message sank into the page and disappeared. The Baron closed the book and swore violently. If Potter got involved at this stage it could present a real problem, especially if Hermione Weasley had survived McDonagh's assault. Damn him! After all the special training to deal with her, after all the planning and practice, the Muggles killed in the line of testing the special new curses, McDonagh had been too weak to finish the job. Potter and Weasley must not be allowed to get together, that had become the new priority. It was something to mull over as he went to fetch the last delivery.
* * *
5:12 am, MI5 HQ, London
Agent Richard Scott compared the two pictures before him. The still image taken from a security camera in a Barnet medical centre wasn't the clearest Scott had ever seen, but the man in it was undoubtedly the same guy as in the second picture, a mugshot filed on the Criminal Records Database. He had been caught at the scene of a particularly brutal gangland assault a year ago and though he was cleared of any direct involvement, his details were taken as part of standard procedures.
"It's definitely the same man," Scott told Director Barnes as he presented the images to him. "Our facial recognition software confirms a ninety-seven point four percent match."
"That's conclusive enough," said Barnes. "Any previous?"
"Nothing major," said Scott, reviewing the file. "Using the alias Alex Kidd he racked up a couple of speeding fines, a parking fine, was caught in possession of a Class B narcotic. Small time villain, nothing to put him on our radar."
"Until now," said Barnes. "Seems like Malfoy was right."
"I wanted to talk to you about that," said Scott. He braced himself, knowing what light the coming confession would place him in "I heard you two talking before he left. You were saying some crazy things, things that might land you a little break in the Psyche Ward."
"Is that a threat, Agent?"
The atmosphere dropped a degree or two.
"Look, I just want to know what's going on around here," said Scott firmly. "It smells like something big is going down and I don't like being asked to do the donkey work for some covert Agent and be kept out of the loop on what its all about. Then I hear you and him talking about magic and wizards. I'm supposed be your Deputy."
"Richard, you're right, I'm sorry," said Barnes. "I've tried to protect you from this for as long as possible."
"Protect me? From what?"
"An awkward truth," said Barnes. "The truth that there are, in fact, two worlds that we live in. One of which is very complicated."
"What is it? Some sort of underworld?" asked Scott.
"More like a dual world," said Barnes. "They have a complete social structure from self-ruling government right down their own culture and laws. We work in tandem with them."
"Who, or what, are they?"
"You heard me describe them as wizards and if you let your imagination run away with you on that topic you wont be far wrong from who they are."
"Wizards? You have to be joking," said Scott. "You cant expect me to believe that?"
"Do you want to run this office some day?" asked Barnes.
"You know I do," said Scott.
"Then you're going to have to trust me and accept this as the truth. I wanted to explain this all to you closer to my retirement, run you through it properly. But you've stumbled onto it now and with open protocols all over the place I don't have time to do that. You're just going have to learn on the job today."
"So what's Malfoy got to do with this?" asked Scott. "Does he liaise with these…wizards?"
"No, Richard, he is one."
"So, what, he can do magic? Pull rabbits out of hats, stuff like that?"
"Some of the things he can do you don't even want to know about," said Barnes darkly. "When Tim Pratchett handed me the reigns to this job he sent me out with Malfoy; I saw first hand what magic can do. All of the training and skills you have are nothing against one of them with a wand. Trust me, you don't want to have to learn that first hand."
"What are you saying? That some of these wizards are bad?" asked Scott, suddenly more serious.
"Malfoy saved my life from a very bad one. He was a servant of a deposed Dark Lord; Malfoy called him a `Death Eater'. You should have seen the fight - the things they did to each other. Malfoy was more powerful and won the day."
"That's why you wanted to keep him here? In case this Algeron character came snooping around?"
The Director nodded. "If that happened we would be defenceless."
Scott looked at the photos in his hands with a new perspective. This whole day had suddenly become a lot more dangerous.
* * *
5:19am, Zante
Harry had tried to be quiet whilst changing but Ginny had never been a particularly heavy sleeper. He had woken her by landing on her arm as he sat on the bed to pull his shoes on. After the initial volley of abuse about his clumsiness she cottoned on to the fact that he was dressing to leave. Through the murky light filtering in from the windows she could make out that he was fully clad for a journey.
"And where in the hell are you going at this time of day?" she demanded.
"I have to leave, I shouldn't be too long," he replied evasively.
"Are you even going to tell me where you're going?"
"Something's come up that I have to take care of," said Harry.
"That's twice you've avoided an answer," said Ginny. "Tell me what's going on. Where are you going?"
"I'm going to Hermione, alright? I have to see if she's okay."
"Oh you have got to be joking me!" said Ginny.
Harry looked down at her. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
"No, but you look like you've lost your mind!" cried Ginny. "You don't actually believe Lily's dream, do you?"
Harry turned from her. "I tried to contact Hermione. I couldn't get through to her."
Harry thought it best not to let on about their secret method of communication.
"She's probably asleep," said Ginny.
"I couldn't get through to anybody," said Harry. "Something's up; I have to find out what."
"We came here to get away from all that for a while," said Ginny.
"I cant just switch off," said Harry. "If Hermione needs my help -"
"Oh come off it, Harry! Don't pretend like you need an excuse to go running off to her!"
Harry was stopped in his tracks. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you. You know that all she has to do is call you and you`ll come running."
"What are you talking about?" asked Harry, trying to remain composed. "Where on earth has all this come from?"
"I`ve seen how you two have been together recently," said Ginny sharply. "Cushy little chats and field missions that you both seem to have to go on. You didn't really expect me to buy the whole 'working late' excuse, did you? You're practically living in each others' pockets. We might as well be back in Hogwarts again."
"Now who's the one being dumb," said Harry.
"I've always known there's a good chance I'd play second fiddle to Hermione," said Ginny carrying on as though Harry hadn't spoken. "But after she chose Ron I thought it'd put an end to it. She married your best friend and I've given you twenty years of my life and three children. You'd think I'd have earned a little loyalty from you."
"I am loyal," said Harry, guilt swelling in him. "There's nothing going on with -"
"Harry, I may be Ron's sister but I'm not nearly as blind or naïve as him," Ginny scythed across. "I know you care for Hermione - don't try and deny it - but I'm your wife - you should care for me more."
"I do," said Harry quickly.
"Then prove it - stay here with me," said Ginny. "Don't go running off to her."
"But she needs me."
"So do I."
"That's not the same and you know it. She may be in danger."
"Our marriage is in danger if you walk out of that door."
The most awkward silence Harry had ever experienced now rose between himself and Ginny. He looked at her and saw no trace of deception in her eyes. She was totally serious in her threat.
"You cant put an ultimatum like that in front of me," Harry protested. "It isn't fair."
"No, cheating on me with Hermione isn't fair," said Ginny.
"I haven't cheated on you!"
"No? Then explain this." Ginny reached for Harry's neck and yanked the chain out from his shirt. "I know a Protean Charm when I see one, Harry. All the other DA coins were confiscated by you and Hermione; I had one myself, remember? But I'm betting she has one just like this, hanging at her cleavage just for you. By all means, Darling, correct me if I`m wrong."
Harry didn't know quite what to say, though he certainly wasn't going to be baited into a confession by Ginny's laden comment.
"How did you know about the coin?" he asked after a minute or so.
"I've slept with you for the best part of two decades," she said bluntly. "You didn't think I'd notice a chunky piece of gold around your neck? You didn't tell me what it was so I assumed you didn't want to be asked. That's why I looked for myself while you slept. I've known about it for years."
"That's a sneaky thing to do."
"Any more sneaky than having it in the first place?" Ginny asked incredulously. "You astonish me sometimes, Harry."
"If you're so convinced of my affair then why are you still with me? Why are we even here?"
"To work on things," said Ginny. "Because I still love you despite everything. We've had problems, we both know it. You have yours with me and I have mine with her. I wanted to put some distance between the pair of you so we could work on the cracks appearing in our relationship."
"And that includes her being in mortal peril?"
"Mortal Peril!" Ginny spat dismissively. "Give it a rest, Harry."
"I want to make sure she's okay," said Harry defiantly.
"And I told you if you go to her its over between us," said Ginny. "You choose."
Harry stood there totally dumbfounded and with no idea what to do next.
* * *
5:23am, Auror Headquarters, Diagon Alley
Stian Dahlgren spat out a mouthful of blood, along with several fragments of tooth, as Draco Malfoy turned away and flexed his fist a little more. Behind the scene, Auror Amanda Banks winced, for though she was happy to see Dahlgren handed some tough punishment it wasn't the most pleasant thing to watch. Malfoy pulled his chair a little closer to the traitor and eyeballed him intently.
"I'll ask you this question again," he said softly, dangerously. "Why did you do all this?"
"Go to hell, Malfoy," spat Dahlgren.
"Given my past I probably will, if there is such a place," said Malfoy, grimly. "In the meantime how about you stop wasting my time and tell me what this is all about."
"I'm not going to tell you anything, you blood-traitorous scum."
Malfoy sighed. He was torn in two; on the one hand he didn't really have time to go to work on Dahlgren, on the other he could think of no more satisfying activity than forcing information from a turncoat. Dahlgren was already bloodied and bruised from both his defeat by Auror Banks and Malfoy's attempts to make him confess, but that was nothing compared to what Malfoy had in mind for him.
"I was afraid you'd say that, Stian," said Malfoy calmly. He got up and conjured what could only be described as a tool kit, which he unfurled along a nearby desk. He turned to Auror Banks. "Amanda, I want you to go and see if you can mend any part of the Unforgivable Trackers. We need those things up and running."
"But, Sir," Banks protested. "They must be in thousands of little bits. There isn't any chance of - oh, I see. You just want me from the room, don't you?"
Malfoy looked at her. "There are some things you should never have to see. Just try and repair some of the damage this pile of filth has wreaked."
"Yes, Sir, I'll try," said Banks obediently. She left the room.
"Do you know where I work, Stian?" asked Malfoy conversationally.
"Of course I do - the scummiest job in all the Wizarding world," replied Dahlgren acidly. "No self-respecting Wizard would ever admit to that."
"Quite," said Malfoy. "Nevertheless, the Muggles at the Ministry of Intelligence have come up with some ingenious methods of interrogation. In some respects, they are quite as effective as our own."
Malfoy picked up a surgical scalpel and twiddled the blade against the light.
"But you know all about our methods of extracting information, and we`ll come to them shortly," Malfoy went on. "I thought I might familiarise you with some of the Muggles techniques first…though I'm not sure these blades have been sterilised. Ah, what the hell."
Even in the dark, Malfoy could smell the stench of fear on the traitor before him.
* * *
Lucien Carlton felt as though he were trespassing as he looked through the scattered papers on Tom Kennedy's desk. He thought to himself that it was a mark of how chaotic the coming day would be; Tom's desk was usually immaculate and this jumble of documents was indicative of the last-minute melee of election day. Carlton skimmed through them, looking for a copy of the first speech he was due to make that day. It was time to start rehearsing for the biggest day in his political life.
The speech had been re-written a least half a dozen times and the final draft was somewhere in Kennedy's office. So far Carlton had checked an entire filing cabinet and the desk in his search for it, yet so far it had eluded him. He sat down behind the desk, looking around the room for inspiration. His eyes fell on a drawer in the desk; it had a key still in a lock at the centre of it and it was the only drawer with such a feature. Nosing around wasn't usually something Carlton encouraged but on this occasion curiosity got the better of him.
He unlocked the drawer. Inside, there was just one plain parchment envelope. Taking it out, Carlton began to thumb through the contents, and they shocked him greatly. Each one was a death threat towards himself, some written with a standard ink and quill, some with letters cut from The Daily Prophet or Witch Weekly and stuck down haphazardly. He was just about to start reading some of the finer details of the latest threats when the door opened.
Tom Kennedy froze, first from surprise at seeing someone sat in his chair and then from clocking the envelope in Carlton's hand. The Wizengamot member remained unabashed, still too stunned at the concealed threats against him. There was also a tinge of anger that he hadn't been informed about any of this.
"Sir, you really shouldn't be looking at those," said Kennedy, eventually.
"Shouldn't I, really?" replied Carlton with raised eyebrows. "Were you ever planning to tell me about these?"
Carlton waved the assembled death threats in Kennedy's direction.
"I kept them from you to keep you from being distracted," explained Kennedy. "Apart from the letters there has been no concrete threat. Security is always high around you anyway, so I didn't see the need to bother you with these."
"I appreciated your motives, Tom, but I don't take - lets see - twelve death threats so trivially, even if they appear to be idle," said Carlton. "Do you have any idea who's behind them?"
"Like I said, apart from the letters themselves there's been no activity," said Kennedy.
"That doesn't mean there wont be any," said Carlton. "It could literally be anyone."
"We've got a team of special security trolls and an 24-hour Auror escort," said Kennedy, trying to quickly offset his boss`s paranoia. "We're as safe as can be."
"I hope you're right," said Carlton. "And I want to know if any more of these threats come in, clear?"
"Yes, Sir," said Kennedy.
"Right, I want to start going over my speech. If everything else is out of my control this is at least one thing I can get right."
* * *
5:32am, The Technical Academy, near Hogsmeade
The modest red brick building stood at the end of a winding lane which led out of the village past the Hogs Head pub. On the second floor corridor Dr Satijanna Nigredo, the Sciences professor, paused at the window opposite the girls' dormitory and looked around. There was nobody about so she eased open the dorm room door and scanned the darkness inside. All the girls were still in bed; some had cases half-packed already so that preparing to leave wouldn't intrude on Play Day, the traditional light-hearted end to the school year.
Satisfied that everything was in order, Dr Nigredo closed the door and carried on to the end of the corridor. She stopped at the top of the staircase that was situated there, but instead of descending it she opened the door to a fire escape and stepped outside. Conscious of waking anybody, Dr Nigredo made her way down the steel steps of the escape almost on tiptoe. At the bottom she met her contact, waiting in an alcove by the rubbish bins.
"You're late," he said.
"Have you ever tried walking in heels?" she asked. "You'd be late too if you tried scuttling around with my shoes on."
"Is everything set?" asked the contact.
"Yes, you can tell your boss all is ready," said Dr Nigredo.
"He'll be glad to hear that - something going right. We've had a few slip ups tonight."
"Nothing to derail us, I hope," said Dr Nigredo.
"No, nothing that serious," said the contact. "Now you're sure you have the right girl?"
"Positive. I've been teaching her all year. I just checked her bed."
"And she's there?"
"Fast asleep."
"Good. You keep watching her. Do all you can to make sure she doesn't leave your sight for any period of the day. You're our insurance policy in case her mother decides to try and be a hero."
"I know my role. The Baron trained me specifically for this task. I don't need you reminding me of it."
"Just so long as you don't get all emotional when the time comes. You know how you women get."
Dr Nigredo stepped closer to her companion in the dark, looking at him with cold intent.
"Do I look emotional?" she asked darkly.
"You never do, Satijanna. Just don't pick today to start."
"Just go…and tell the Baron I await his orders," she replied.
"Very well. I'll be happy to get out of here. Being so close to this many Squibs makes me queasy. I can almost feel my magic sapping away. I don't know how you can stand it."
"Are you serious? You obviously haven't seen what they pay me to teach these kids a Muggle curriculum. Its obscene. I`ll miss the money when this is all over."
"You'll be well compensated for your efforts. Kids from Wizard families being taught like Muggles," said the contact, shaking his head. "Basic education to be the dross of our society. I yearn for the day when the Baron puts and end to these divisions."
"You may get your wish very soon," said Dr Nigredo. "Now go - the Baron doesn't tolerate tardiness."
Dr Nigredo made her way back upstairs, pausing at the fire doors to look back down, but her contact had already Apparated away.
* * *
5:37am, MI5 Headquarters, London
"Your conference call is ready, Sir."
"Thank you, Jenny," said Director Barnes. He followed her from his office and into a private conference room adjacent to the main Operations centre. Inside, a large plasma screen was mounted on a wall at the far end of a long table. Director Barnes pressed several buttons on a control panel set into the table and a picture flashed up onto the screen.
"Director Barnes, good morning."
"And to you, Mr Prime Minister," Barnes replied.
"I've been sketchily briefed about the situation," said the Prime Minister. "Bring me up to speed will you."
"So far we don't know a great deal," said Barnes. "After a man was found brutally murdered in Barnet around midnight we've been doing what we can to trace his killers. Our most promising lead is this man; he's a member of the Magical Community and goes by the name of Alexis Algeron."
Barnes pressed more buttons and brought up the file of Algeron as stored on their database. He continued speaking.
"He's spent time in Wizard prison for serious crimes, but he also operates in our world. Under the assumed name Alex Kidd he's been involved in petty criminal activities but we've uncovered new evidence linking him to several organised gangs."
"What kind of gangs?" asked the Prime Minister.
"Mostly Eastern European syndicates, especially Albanian drugs and people traffickers," said Barnes. "He's been spotted consorting with members of these gangs we've had under surveillance in Cardiff, Sheffield and parts of East Anglia. we're in the process of compiling more data on these leads."
"Is he dangerous?"
"With all due respect, Sir, he's a wizard. It took some of their best people to catch him. To us, he must be seen as a major threat."
"What was he doing in Barnet?" asked the Prime Minister.
"We're still working on that, Sir," said Barnes. "Our operational theory is that he was sent to make sure the job on the man killed there was complete. If this is true we can assume there is a bigger threat at work here. That man was killed for a reason and whoever ordered it wanted it made damn sure that he didn't tell whatever it was he knew."
"So this threat affects both us and the Magics?"
"We're working on that assumption, though as yet there's been no sign of what the involvement from our side could be."
"What steps are you taking to uncover this plot?" asked the Prime Minister.
"I've got our special liaison Agent checking with his people, hoping that perhaps whatever's happening in their world might generate leads for us," said Barnes. "We also have this letter for Harry Potter. We don't know the contents of it, but it was specifically requested that it be placed in his hands. We were hoping you could try and contact him. The wizard who died said you'd be the one person who'd be able to."
"I can get in touch with the Minister for Magic," said the Prime Minister. "He has a personal line to Potter at all times. I'll get him on to it."
"Thank you, Sir."
"Keep me appraised of the situation, Director Barnes. I'll make sure your calls have priority."
"Yes, Sir, I'll let you know what develops."
The screen went blank. Barnes rested back into his chair and sighed. It had gone better than he thought; he'd expected more grouchiness at this time of the morning. But the Prime Minister had always been keen to cultivate a strong working relationship with the Wizards and took threats from their world very seriously. Which brought Barnes back to his prevailing thought; Malfoy hadn't checked in. He'd explained to him once why mobile phones didn't work around magic. Even so, as he pondered the situation he was sure he wouldn't feel calm again until Malfoy returned.
* * *
5:41am, Zante
Lily snivelled into James's shoulder and he looked to Celesca for advice and reassurance, though he doubted she could give him either. Albus was sat against the far wall looking out of the window, pretending he couldn't hear the blazing row echoing along the corridor from the room at the far end.
"It's all my fault," Lily whimpered. "If I hadn't said anything they wouldn't be fighting."
"Look, Lil', if Dad believed you enough to try and contact Aunt Hermione, then found out that something was wrong, then you were right to tell him," said James.
"Do you really think so?" she asked, snuggling into his chest. "Do you think they're going to split up?"
"Don't be silly," said James. "That isn't going to happen."
"Are you sure?" asked Albus, the cold tone in his voice surprising everyone. He turned to look at them, stony faced. "They are rowing a lot lately. You don't see it because you're always out with Celesca. I'm not saying that to have a go; its good that you have her to take you away from this."
James was amazed that his brother sounded so wise and worldly. "Do they really row a lot?"
"Not all the time, and never this bad," said Albus. "But they niggle quite a bit. They say some nasty things to each other sometimes."
"Mostly they just don't speak for a bit then they're okay," Lily took over. "I don't know if it'll be like that with this one."
"How have I missed all this?" asked James in disbelief. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Would you have really wanted to know?" asked Albus.
"What, that my little bro and sis have had to listen to rows? Yes I'd have wanted to know. I could have taken you out or something."
"That's all very noble, James, but it wouldn't have made any difference," said Albus with an almost disinterested air. "They'd still be rowing either way. Besides, we're used to it by now."
James was having trouble believing what he was hearing; he was twisted inside with guilt over not being there with his siblings and worry about the fact that his parents fought regularly. He looked over at Celesca; she wore a look of guilt too, as though she felt she was to blame for taking James away from the domestic troubles of his family. They all sat in ponderous silence, wondering just how long the argument would go on for.
* * *
Sparrow's Nook, Cornwall
Hermione felt better. Guiltily so, but better nonetheless. She'd managed to get hold of Harry, or rather he'd contacted her, and she'd been able to let him know that trouble was afoot. She didn't know quite why he'd gotten in touch, but it made her insides flutter a little as she considered wild possibilities and reasons. She was firmly confident that if he knew she was in danger he would be on his way to help. The thought was enough to make her blush and give in to girlish ideas, which was most unlike her. She snapped herself out of the thought; after all, there was trouble afoot. If Harry was indeed on his way, she'd look a lot better if she knew what it was before he arrived. The incentive set her back to task.
But it wasn't all going as she'd hoped. The goon tied up with her strongest magical binds was proving most uncooperative; either that or he really did know only as little as he was letting on. In the sensible part of her brain, Hermione knew she'd extracted all she could; the amount of Veritaserum she'd forced down his throat guaranteed an honest confession. Yet she still wasn't satisfied.
She'd learned that his name was Callum McDonagh and he took his orders direct from Stian Dahlgren. At first, Hermione had rubbished this claim as she knew Dahlgren was an Auror. It then dawned on her that not all wizards are good and that it could partially explain the communication breakdown. She also knew now that someone called `the Baron' was involved and though this was a less frightening name than Lord Voldemort, if he'd managed to infiltrate the Ministry he was a threat not to be taken lightly.
The most concerning aspect for her personally was that McDonagh had confessed to being sent there with a specific task - to eliminate her. Somebody wanted her dead and it was only her gutsy nature that had kept her alive. This same person had disabled magical communication, essentially cutting off the most powerful wizard alive from the events happening in his absence. Hermione was reassured by the knowledge he was coming; together they could be a formidable force and whoever was behind these deeds would have to face them soon enough.
* * *
5:45am
The Baron stopped as he reached the shelter of the shop doorway. It was an innocuous little place, far removed from any prying eyes. Perfect for a covert operation such as this. He opened the door and heard a little bell tinkle in the back as he stepped inside. Pale light filtered in through dusty windows as the dawn sun continued to rise. The Baron stepped around plant pots and garden ornaments, through shelves full of tools and bags of compost until he reached the desk. The shopkeeper was there waiting.
"Good Morning, Neil," said the Baron.
"And to you, your Lordship," Neil the shopkeeper replied.
"You have my order?"
"As long as you have the gold," Neil answered boldly.
"The goods first, as our arrangement had always been," said the Baron. "You know I'm good for the money."
Neil reached under the counter and placed a handsome velvet-bound case in front of the Baron. He flipped open the lid; inside were two vials of silvery liquid, a handful of leaves and some finely chopped roots.
"The roots and leaves must be added to the poison first and allowed to dissolve," Neil instructed. "Then add the potion."
"My brewers know exactly what to do," said the Baron haughtily. "And the other will complete the Elixir?"
"Yes."
"You're certain?"
"It's the ingredient you asked for," said Neil. "I've never brewed that potion myself but this ingredient was the one you ordered. It's rare."
"That's why I'm paying you extra for it," said the Baron. He took the case and dropped a pouch bulging with Galleons on the counter. He was about to leave when Neil slammed his hand onto the case.
"For Merlin's sake don't get the vials mixed up," he said. "The consequences would be disastrous."
"In what way?"
"The rare ingredient is difficult to obtain for a reason," said Neil. "It reacts with hydrogen, it makes it explode. If mixed with even a cup of water it could make a dreadful weapon."
"Calm yourself, Neil," said the Baron, half-chuckling. "I want to poison the water supply, not annihilate it. I need to have a country left to take over once this day is finished."
The Baron turned and left, clutching the expensive package inside his cloak. He felt a thrill of excitement; this was it, the plan was really on now. The final stage really had begun. The potions would be ready in just a few hours, as soon as these last ingredients were delivered. He had to reach his courier soon, confident that she wouldn't let him down. There was too much at stake for her not to comply. The Baron smiled, and Disapparated.
* * *
Amanda Banks groaned in frustration as she looked at the thousands of little pieces before her. There were so many she didn't even know which bits belonged to which Tracker. It was totally futile, but judging from the screams and agonised cries drifting in from the main office this was the best place for her to be. She could only imagine what horrors Malfoy was inflicting on the traitor, Dahlgren, though she was sure that horrible smell drifting in was burning flesh.
"Now does this part belong over here?" she said to herself, trying to drown out another loud howl. Then there was silence for a good minute or two. "Oh, Merlin! He's killed him!"
Jumping up, Amanda ran back into the office but the sight she saw there made her turn and vomit into a wastepaper basket which was handily placed nearby. Dahlgren was unrecognisable; he was scarred and singed on his face but worst of all he had a dark, bloodied socket where his right eye should have been. Malfoy had cut it out.
"Auror, are you alright?" asked Malfoy. "I told you not to come out here."
"I thought you'd killed him," said Amanda, wiping her mouth. "It went all quiet. I thought he must be dead. Is he?"
"No, he's just passed out with the shock," said Malfoy as though talking about the weather.
"How?"
"I pressed this little knife into his skin a few times," said Malfoy impassively.
"But it doesn't look very sharp at all," said Amanda, looking at the blade.
"Oh, it isn't," said Malfoy with a smirk. "I soaked it in hydrochloric acid first. See these burn marks here and here. Quite amazing what the Muggles can come up with. Stian was quite compliant after that; told me he takes his orders from someone calling himself The Baron. Not the toughest of aliases, is it?"
"The Baron?" said Amanda. "Do you have any idea who that could be?"
"We've never heard of anyone going by that title," said Malfoy. "When I wake Stian back up in a moment I'm hoping he can elaborate on his confession."
"And if he doesn't?"
"I know a few curses which can be very persuasive."
There was a dark glint in Malfoy's eye that scared Amanda. She knew for certain that though the interrogation was utterly barbaric, it was clear he was enjoying it. Malfoy was about to wake Dahlgren when someone knocked on the wall at the end of the office.
"Who goes there?" demanded Malfoy.
"Aeric Edwards, Magical Law Enforcement. What the hell happened in here?"
"A traitor has sabotaged our communication networks," Malfoy explained. "I'm interrogating the perpetrator now."
"Then she was right, we really do have a problem," said Aeric.
"Who was right?" asked Malfoy.
"Hermione Weasley," said Aeric. "She contacted us a while ago, said she thought there was an intruder at her home and the F-Phone network was down. We've had a lot of owls with people complaining of the same thing. I came here to see if Stian Dahlgren knew anything about the problem."
"He is the problem," said Malfoy. "He destroyed all the relays. Everything is down."
"Something major's happening, isn't it?" asked Aeric. "The Head of the MLE is in danger, we can't reach the Head Auror, traitors all over the place. It cant be a coincidence."
"Clearly not," said Malfoy. "I recommend you go back to your office and co-ordinate a response to this threat, try and work up any leads."
"Yes, Sir," said Aeric. "What will you do?"
"I'll find out who's behind all this," said Malfoy. "This is an Auror matter, I suggest you return to your own office."
Aeric bowed and ducked away.
"Shall I wake him?" said Amanda, galvanised by the thoughts of a major threat taking shape.
"Do it," Malfoy commanded.
* * *
"Good Morning, listeners, this is Caitlin Doyle on Earlybird Wizarding Wireless Network. I'm here with Lucien Carlton, chief challenger to Minister for Magic, Horatio Spragg. Gamot Carlton has a five point lead in the Daily Prophet political polls and he's here to convince us all why your vote today should go to him. Good morning, Lucien."
"Good morning, Caitlin, and to all the witches and wizards awake on this fine day."
"Now, Lucien, you've been quite outspoken on Minister Spragg's social policies. Tell us, what will you do differently?"
"Spragg caters far too much to the rich and powerful," said Carlton. "He's more concerned with tax breaks for the big businesses which fund him rather than remembering the people whose votes put him where he is. I'm promising to get back in touch with the wizard in the street. And as for Spragg's reforms - well, some have been downright foolhardy. He reversed the ban on magic carpets yet cut funding on Memory Modification wizards to make the Muggles who spotted the damn things forget what they saw! He's illogical, out of touch and there needs to be a change."
"And you're the man to bring that change?"
"I think so. I've clearly outlined my plans; more money for St. Mungo's and Hogwarts and the research both institutions carry out; more money on developing affordable housing for magical people; improved social care for the elderly and permanently baffled and the strengthening of our links with foreign neighbours. We have to be leaders in the modern world."
"One concern raised was that you were going to use public money to buy a couple of new Chasers for the Tornadoes," joked Doyle. "Second from bottom last year must have hurt you."
Carlton laughed. "It left a mark on me, shall we say. I couldn't face my colleagues for a good few days. But I can assure the voters that their hard earned tax Galleons won't be showing up in a Tornadoes uniform should I win today."
"I'm sure we're all glad to hear it," said Doyle. "Right, we'll go to Ursula for the weather then we'll get right back to grilling Gamot Carlton with your owled-in questions. Keep it locked in to WWN…"
* * *
5:52am
The Baron pulled his scarf tighter around his face and knocked hard three times on the door. He heard shuffling inside and prepared himself; this unwilling servant had proven to be useful but she had a history of being recklessly brave. The Baron was always wary of her snapping on one of these times and attacking him. He held onto his wand as the door slowly opened and a pair of terrified eyes peered out from a messy fringe of dirty blonde hair.
"I was hoping you wouldn't come."
"I am as constant as the Northern Star, Miss Lovegood."
The Baron entered the house.
"Your husband is away, I presume?" he asked.
"I put a spell on him and sent him to his mother's as soon as I got your message."
To anyone who had known her, hearing Luna Lovegood speak in such a frightened and serious tone would have been quite a shock. Normally dreamy and unconcerned, this air of alertness would have seemed most alien to a knowledgeable observer.
"You should relax, Miss Lovegood," said the Baron calmly. "This is the last little job I have for you; well, for now at least."
"I want to see my daughter," said Luna. "I want to know she's safe before I do anything."
"You are going to have to take my word that she is," said the Baron icily.
"Why should I take your word? It means nothing to me."
"Simply because you have no alternative," the Baron taunted. "For if you don't do as I ask, or you try to alert someone to what's going on, I will have no qualms about ordering her to be killed. You know the drill by now."
Luna shook with fear and tried to fight back tears rising in her eyes. She had no choice in the matter.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Good girl," said the Baron. "Same task as always. I want you to deliver a package. It's a very important mission and I need to trust you to complete it. Because of this I want you to know that I have an operative with little Aleri right at this moment. If you deviate from my instructions your daughter's death will be the work of but a moment."
Luna felt a tear slide down her cheek. She felt so terribly alone, powerless against the monster before her.
"Where do I go?"
"Take this package," said the Baron. He handed Luna a small box with the poison vial inside. "Take it to the Thames Valley water treatment plant on the outskirts of London. My man will be waiting for you there at the west entrance gate."
"Thames Valley Water, west gate," Luna repeated. "And then will you let me see my daughter?"
"She comes home tomorrow from that ridiculous academy Hermione Weasley founded for Squibs, doesn't she?" the Baron asked. Luna nodded. "She will be escorted from there by my operative. She will be delivered to you then."
"Please don't hurt her," Luna begged.
"That's entirely in your hands, Miss Lovegood," said the Baron. "I don't want to harm little Aleri, but if you force my hand…"
"I won't, I promise," said Luna. "I'll do what you want."
"Good. You'd better get dressed, my man is waiting for you. I'll show myself out."
And he did. Luna simply slumped to her knees, and wept.
* * *
5:56am, Auror Headquarters
Malfoy raised his wand yet again. The word Crucio had already formed at his lips when Amanda Banks threw out an arm to stop him.
"That's enough, Sir - he can't take any more. Look at him."
Malfoy did so. He had reduced Stian Dahlgren to a jibbering wreck, drool running from his lopsided mouth while his one remaining eye stared unfocused into space.
"He's told you all he knows," Banks continued. "Killing him now lets him off being punished legally for what he's done."
"You may be right," said Malfoy, pocketing his wand. "But we still aren't any closer to uncovering the meaning of all this or who's giving the orders."
"Perhaps that's how the Baron wants it," Amanda suggested. "The right hand doesn't know what the left is doing, sort of thing."
Malfoy looked at her anew. "That's quite insightful. You think maybe he wants to keep his own people in the dark? Each part knows only its own role?"
"Maybe," said Amanda shyly, Malfoy's respectful tone putting pressure on her . "If Dahlgren only knew to destroy the communications and give orders to this McDonagh person then he couldn't endanger the plot if he was captured. His job here was dangerous enough -"
"As he was right under the noses of the Aurors," said Malfoy ponderously. "Capture must have been a possibility for his part in the plan. Ignorance of the bigger picture could have been his contingency."
"But if the lead stops with Dahlgren then we're stuck," said Amanda.
"Not necessarily," said Malfoy. "He mentioned this McDonagh character. He was sent to Hermione Weasley, to kill her. Reluctant as I am to admit it I doubt he was successful. She's quite powerful."
"What are you going to do?"
"I have to get hold of Harry Potter," said Malfoy. "He needs to be brought in if something as big as this is going down."
"But how will you reach him with the communication compromised?" asked Amanda.
"Through Weasley, they were always pretty close. She'll know where to find him."
"Sorry for repeating myself, Sir, but wont you have the same problem getting hold of her?" asked Amanda.
"That guy Aeric who was just here said Weasley got a message to them," said Malfoy. "It was after Stian's handiwork because she was complaining that her F-Phone wasn't working. I'm going over to the Ministry to find out how she did it and use it to reach her."
"What shall I do?"
"Push Stian into one of the holding cells for now," said Malfoy. "And stay here. The other Aurors will be coming into work soon. They'll need to be appraised of the situation. Make sure Ron Weasley knows everything when he comes in. He's Deputy of this office, he'll need to take charge of the search for the Baron, though that isn't a scenario that fills me with optimism. Lets hope I reach Potter first."
Malfoy turned and made to leave the office. He stopped at the door and turned back to Amanda. "You did well today. You have a bright future here."
"Thank you, Sir," said Amanda, blushing.
Malfoy nodded, then left the office.
* * *
5:58 am, Zante
Harry took one last look at Ginny. Her eyes were puffy and red but Harry was not about to let a guilt trip and a few tears stop him from doing what he knew to be right. Ginny had repeated her threat to leave him but he had decided she didn't really mean it.
"I'll be back in a while," he said, fastening the clasp on his cloak.
"Don't bother hurrying," she snapped back. "Give Hermione a kiss for me while you're there."
"Petulance isn't attractive, you know," said Harry sharply.
"Neither is Hermione," said Ginny, acidly.
Harry went to respond but didn't think he trusted himself to hold his true thoughts in if he did.
"Look after the kids," said Harry. "I don't want them leaving the villa until I get back."
"Whatever, Sir," Ginny replied, sarcastically.
Harry shook his head at her childishness and went to the door. He had barely opened it when a jet of light startled him. It hit him in the chest and threw him back against the wall. He tried to move but was immobile. There was no mistaking the Impedimentia Curse. He heard Ginny give out a little scream before she, too, was frozen stiff by the same spell. Harry looked up as two masked intruders towered over them, wands raised in their faces. He was struck by immeasurable fear for his children; had they been attacked first? Were they safe? Did the intruders even know they were there? But there was another pressing thought on his mind; despite all the security measures Harry had implemented, these men had managed to get in. How in the hell had they done it? One thing he felt for sure was it wouldn't be long until he found out.
6:00am
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