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The White Elixir by Wizardora
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The White Elixir

Wizardora

Chapter Five

The following takes place between 6:00am and 7:00am on the day of the Wizengamot Ministerial election.

Events occur in real time

6:00am, Dublin, Ireland

Padraig Kelly took one last, long drag from his cigarette and tossed the butt away. It was time to return the call. If his partner was on schedule then very soon the British Government would be brought to its knees. Padraig was eager to see it happen; he may not have been too comfortable working with these wizard-types, but he would be prepared to overlook that if they delivered the biggest prize since the struggle began.

"Declan, any word on our transportation?" Padraig called to his deputy.

"Not yet, boss," came the reply.

"Give it another twenty then find out what's taking so long," said Padraig. "We are on a tight schedule."

"Yes, boss."

Padraig looked around the desolate field; it was just about light enough now to see the nothingness for miles around. The shabby little hut protecting them from the winds and spray of the Irish Sea was the only structure in sight. Padraig didn't like open spaces; he preferred somewhere with a good solid wall to hide behind in case a stray bullet came his way. Still, needs dictated today.

"Declan, I'm gonna make some calls," said Padraig. "I don't want no disruptions."

Declan nodded and Padraig moved a little away from the rest of his men. He took out his mobile phone, pressed 3 on speed dial and waited.

"Hello?"

"Coles, its Kelly."

"Yes, Boss."

"What's your situation?" Kelly asked.

"The wizard guy's just arrived, he's setting up his big pot," Coles replied. "He says the last piece of the mix is on its way."

"Good. How long will it take to make the package ready?"

"An hour, maybe less."

"Right. Once that ingredient gets there you're gonna need help," said Kelly. "The stuff needs to enter the water in the right amount and at the right pressure."

"I sent you the pressures already, boss," said Coles.

"I know that, but in case anything goes wrong you're gonna need someone there to help put it right. Find an engineer there, make it worth his while to help us."

"Will do. And when its done?"

"You know what to do."

Kelly hung up the phone.

* * *

6:03am, Zante

Harry struggled against his binds but it was no good. His ankles had been tied together with thick cord, his wrists twisted and bound in a similar fashion before being handcuffed to the steel bars of the bed's frame. His arms were stretched above his head and he was pulled out on the bed like he was on a rack. One of the intruders was fixing his ankles to the bedpost while the other crouched over Ginny. She had been bound tightly and gagged before being pushed into the corner, where she now lay in the foetal position, a wand pointed at her head.

"Who are you people?" Harry demanded.

"Shut that hole in your face," the intruder replied, before smacking Harry with the back of his hand. "I'll ask the questions. You give me wrong answers, you pay in pain."

Harry heard Ginny whimper in the corner and he struggled against his binds. It was no good; they were fastened tight and Harry couldn't get any purchase against them from the position he was in. He was utterly at their mercy.

"Save your strength, Potter," said the man over him. "You're going to need it."

"Whatever you want from me, you wont get it," said Harry staunchly. "No matter what you do to me."

"We'll see about that," came the reply. "We'll see just how well you stand up under your own form of scrutiny."

An involuntary shudder rippled across Harry's shoulders. Long ago, when interrogating Death Eaters and Dark Wizards was a new game, Harry had realised just how little scope there was when it came to coercive questioning. He embarked on a series of spell developments, following the path set by the two wizards he admired the most - Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. If this man really had learned how to perform the interrogation spells he had created then this was going to be an excruciating experience. The man continued speaking.

"Yes, when we're done with you and your pretty little wife we might just let you loose." He bent his head close to Harry, who could smell his stinking breath, and spoke in an evil whisper. "The state I plan to leave you in wont make you much help to anybody, especially that interfering Weasley woman. With a bit of luck of course, she's already dead."

Harry felt like a block of lead had fallen into his stomach. He screwed up all his strength, all he had about him, and steeled himself for what was about to come. He was determined not to be beaten by his own methods. The lead intruder, who'd be attending to him, went to check on Ginny's binds, tugging hard at her wrists and ankles. Seemingly satisfied with them, he returned to Harry.

"Okay, lets start with something simple and see just how much the saviour of the world can take." He raised his wand. "Crucio!"

Harry bellowed in agony. Down the hall James Potter heard the sound and jumped with a start.

* * *

6:07am, Magical Law Enforcement Offices, Ministry of Magic

Draco Malfoy stepped through the open grille of the elevator and made his way along the lately-polished floor of the corridor. He moved briskly down its centre, allowing the bustling workers to make it their business to move around him as they went about their work. Malfoy was glad to see the place a hive of activity; Aeric must have worked fast to mobilise everything so quickly. It comforted Malfoy that, with such dangerous events in the offing, preparations were finally being made to confront it; the ignorance and inactivity elsewhere had alarmed him.

Aeric was crouched over a workstation as Malfoy approached. Reams of parchment were streaming out from beneath magically automated quills and Aeric was tearing them off and skim-reading them, searching for any hints of what might be happening. He stopped as Malfoy approached and turned to greet him.

"Auror Malfoy, Sir," he said.

"Aeric," Malfoy said in reply. "Have you discovered anything yet?"

"No, not yet, but we've not long got everything up and running," Aeric answered.

"And what, exactly, have you done?"

"We've contacted all field MLE officers and sent them on fact-finding assignments," said Aeric. "We're checking their reports as they conduct their enquiries."

"How can you reach them without the Floo Comm Network?"

"They carry Herald Tablets," explained Aeric. "It's a relatively new thing we're testing."

"How do they work?" asked Malfoy.

"Each officer carries a small stone tablet," said Aeric. "We have a bigger one here in the office. When we inscribe something on it we can send it out to all the smaller ones. It's for general bulletins, really, but that's all we needed here."

"I see," said Malfoy. "Have you come up with anything peculiar yet?"

"No, Sir, but like I said the first ones have only just started coming in."

"Very well, keep on it. Edwards, am I right in thinking Hermione Weasley contacted you after the Floo Network went dead?"

"Yes, Sir," replied Aeric.

"How did she manage that?" asked Malfoy.

"She used a Muggle telephone," said Aeric. "She had one installed in her office for ultra-emergencies."

"Take me to it."

Aeric dropped his parchment and led Malfoy to a circular office in the corner. The door carried a sign whose lettering was made of the same burnished brass as the ornate handles below it.

H. Weasley, Director, Magical Law Enforcement

Malfoy wrinkled his nose as he read the sign. Aeric held the door open for him to pass into the office. Neat and orderly, the décor of the place was brisk and business-like. It wouldn't have looked out of place at MI5, Malfoy thought to himself. In a special tray on the desk stood a handsome 19th Century telephone, scarlet for the most part but the mouth and earpiece of receiver were gold as was the circular dial.

"Shall I dial the number?" asked Aeric. "Madam Weasley showed me how to do it."

"I know how to use a telephone," said Malfoy crisply. "Just tell me the number and I'll do it myself."

"The number is 3-3-7-7-1-2," said Aeric, affronted.

"Thank you," said Malfoy. He began to turn the numbers on the dial. He looked up at Aeric, still in the doorway. "That will be all. I suggest you get back to work."

Aeric bowed away looking mutinous. Malfoy finished dialling and waited for Hermione to pick up on the other end.

"Hello? Aeric is that you?"

"No, it's Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" said Hermione, sounding startled. "What in the name of Dumbledore are you doing at the Ministry?"

"Chasing up the same problem that may have affected you," said Malfoy coolly.

"How is that possible?" said Hermione. "How did you hear about that at MI5?"

"I'd rather not talk over the phone," said Malfoy. "You never know who may be listening."

"I can assure you that this is a private line. It's very secure."

"And I can assure you that I know far more about phone-tapping than you, considering where I work," said Malfoy. "No Muggle phone line is ever totally secure, and one leading to a place like this would be easy to tap if the wrong people knew about it."

"What are you trying to say? That -"

"Not over the phone!" hissed Malfoy. "We need to meet."

"I can't leave here," said Hermione. "I have an intruder tied up in my living room."

"Really?" said Malfoy, grudgingly impressed. "That could be useful to the investigation. I'll come to you and interrogate him."

"He's already told me all he knows, under the influence of Veritaserum," said Hermione simply.

"Veritaserum isn't as accurate as it once was," said Malfoy. "There's a Muggle drug which inhibits its' effectiveness."

"Is there really?" said Hermione.

"Yes, now listen, we have to meet. I have important information that only you can help with." Malfoy hesitated, knowing he had to give some information away for Hermione to acquiesce to the plan. "It's about Potter."

There was a pause at the end of the line. "You'd better come right here. Sparrow's Nook, Avalon Heights."

"In Cornwall?" asked Malfoy.

"That's right," said Hermione. "I'll be waiting for you."

She hung up, which Malfoy found rude. He shrugged off the sensation and moved back into the main office. He found Aeric again.

"I'm going to see your boss," he said. "After that I'll be returning to the Muggle office where I work. I want regular updates of your progress but with the F-Phones down you're going to have to use owls or traditional Floo Network methods. My fire at MI5 is connected to the Floo Network - throw me hourly bulletins via that, more regular if something turns up."

Malfoy didn't wait for confirmation of his orders before turning and leaving.

* * *

6:15am, Carlton Election Campaign

Lucien Carlton strode in front of the unlit hearth and read over his lines again. Even though he acknowledged the importance of his message he had to admit that this was one area of his campaign that was very boring. They were, however, some of the most pressing issues in the eyes of the electorate and as such he had to ensure his words sat well with those he was targeting. He didn't like to think of it in those terms at this time; the threat of being a target of a different nature, himself, was still hanging over his mind.

"Should I really be saying less public money will be squandered?" asked Carlton. "Can we actually guarantee that?"

"Not on all levels," replied Tom Kennedy, sat on the couch. "But a few lines later you attach the claim to the extravagant expenses that Spragg has racked up; the public like to know their money will be spent on things which benefit them, not on lavish parties and gifts for his contributors."

"Do these economics really add up?" asked Carlton, eyeing figures on his sheet. "It seems very sketchy to me."

"Spragg's Feudal Finance policy never worked," said Kennedy. "It was a decent idea - paying taxes for your own community only - but it didn't work in poorer places. One of the main things you're trying to sell yourself on is bridging the rich/poor divide. Spreading wealth evenly across the country is a much better way of doing that, even if the aristocrats at the top don't like it."

"I believe you, Tom, you're the numbers man of this operation," said Carlton. "I go on in less than two hours and I don't feel prepared at all."

Kennedy rose from the couch and placed a steadying hand on Carlton's arm.

"Lucien, we've been at this since you were elected to the Wizengamot fifteen years ago," he said. "We pulled it off when you ran to sit on the International Confederation of Wizards, and again when we won the Chairmanship of the Council of Wizarding Commerce. We're old hands - people trust you - stay focused on your message and we'll do just fine again."

Carlton relaxed. "Thank you, Tom. I don't know what I'd have done without you."

"Thank me when you take the Big Office," said Kennedy. "Put me in the Under-secretary's chair and I'll consider us square."

"Alright," said Carlton, chuckling. "Let's get back to it. I can't make any errors; those Gringotts Goblins only let me deliver this speech on the steps to their bank so they can be the first to shout me down. I don't want to give them any more ammunition than they already have."

* * *

6:19am, MI5 Headquarters, London

Agent Jenny Miller slipped away from her desk in the main Operations Centre and made her way two floors down to the server room. Here she pulled down a secure terminal and logged onto the Air Traffic Control server. She worked quickly, prioritising clearance for a private flight from Dublin to Cardiff. She imputed the data, covering her tracks with a scrambler code. Once arrival and departure had been verified she cleared her screen and shut down the terminal.

"Jenny? What are you doing here?"

It was Agent Scott. Jenny froze for a moment, but quickly regained herself.

"Sorry, Sir, I had to refresh the socket to the Serious Organised Crimes Agency," she lied. "All this cross-accessing is playing merry hell with our relays."

"I'll take your word for it," said Scott smirking. "I'm a technophobe, Jen, you know that."

"Yes, Sir, you've demonstrated that a few times," she said, grinning back.

"I'm still your boss, Agent Miller," said Scott lightly. "I can discipline you for back chat like that."

"I'd prefer you didn't make promises you don't intend to keep, Sir," she replied sultrily, stepping closer to him.

Scott shuddered as a waft of perfume ensnared his senses.

"Was there…anythingyou wanted me for?" asked Jenny.

Agent Scott thought of, and dismissed, several inappropriate answers very quickly. "I - er - needed you to get me a copy of Agent Malfoy's personnel file. I need to, erm, give some things a good look over."

Jenny stepped closer again, her head almost touching Agent Scott's chest. Her scent was intoxicating.

"I'll get on top of it right away," she said breathlessly.

She left and Agent Scott hurried towards the staffroom for a cup of strong coffee. Jenny, on the other hand, veered away from the path to the office and slid into the disabled bathroom. She whipped out her mobile phone and dialled the number of her contact, checking her lipstick in the mirror as it dialled.

"It's Miller, the flight's been cleared," she said as a voice answered on the other end.

"Excellent," the voice replied. "Any other news?"

"Malfoy's gone, couldn't find out where."

"We have Malfoy under surveillance. He's making a real nuisance of himself. The Baron is considering extreme force against him once he returns from the delivery."

"Then everything's on course?" asked Jenny.

"As long as Malfoy doesn't interfere too much we're right where we need to be," said the voice down the phone. "Once Kelly and his Muggle terrorist buddies get involved it'll draw MI5's attention. Then we strike. They won't see it coming. I'll let you know when to get out of there."

"I'll be waiting," said Jenny. She hung up, opened the door to the bathroom and, once she'd decided all was clear, slipped out and made her way towards the Ops Centre. At the end of the hall, Agent Scott, stepped out of the from behind the door to one of the interrogation suites. He stroked his chin and wondered just what Agent Miller was up to.

* * *

6:23 am, Zante

Harry couldn't restrain another pained cry as a cut opened up on his forehead. Warm blood oozed from the wound and slid down into his eye. The intruder and the room behind him were tinted crimson for a moment until Harry blinked and returned everything to normal. At least as normal as could be expected after a period of agonizing torture which had made every part of his body burn with pain.

"I'll ask you again, Potter, where are they?"

Harry stared resolutely at the masked intruder but said nothing.

"I don't think you realise quite how much I'm enjoying this."

The intruder raised his wand again and Harry felt his joints edge away from each other once more. The pain was so intense he couldn't even cry out; the sound got lost in his vocal chords somewhere and all that escaped him was the slightest of groans. The intruder lowered his wand and Harry's body, which had arced up as his vertebrae had been stretched out, fell back down onto the bed. He breathed hard and tensed up to endure the pain as a second wave hit him.

"Just give me an answer and it'll be all over," said the intruder.

"I would give you an answer," Harry panted breathily, "but my middle finger is tied up to the bed."

"Imperio!" cried the intruder.

Harry felt the light-headed sensation of the curse as a welcome break from the pain. He took a moment to compose himself, easily resisting the weak curse being aimed at him. He found it really annoying that such a poor wizard had control over him and was sure Hermione would tease him about it later. If only he could reverse the spell…

"Where are the field Aurors? Tell me…"

The intruder's voice washed over Harry's head trying to influence him, but Harry had thrown off Imperius Curses ten times stronger than this one. He almost laughed at the thought that this one could control him. Hadn't he managed, after many, many months of practice, to throw off the version Hermione had cast on him while they trained? Did this punk think he could out-curse Hermione? What a notion!

He felt it before he really knew what was happening. He was looking back at himself from the end of the bed. His face was slack, his eyes distant and the thoughts Harry could hear weren't his own. Suddenly, he had an idea.

Untie me, Harry thought.

The intruder began to undo Harry's binds when suddenly his comrade shoulder barged him and knocked his wand away. Harry felt himself crash back into his own mind and the pain of his body coursed through his consciousness once more. He groaned as it settled on him.

"What the hell are you doing?" yelled the lead intruder.

"You were about to untie him, you dickhead," said the other. "What were you doing?"

"He turned the Imperius Curse back on me…without a wand," said the first. He looked at Harry; despite having him fastened securely to the bed there was no doubt that there was a look of fear in the eyes of the intruder.

"Well, lets see if he can stand a double Cruciatus."

Harry howled as the dual curses hit him. He didn't think he'd ever experienced anything quite like it. The pain was blinding and Harry felt his senses slip away from his head. He tried to snatch them back as a scream from Ginny broke the curses.

"No! Stop! Stop!"

She had managed to spit out her gag and was sobbing her pleas to the attackers.

"Don't worry, cutie," said the lead attacker. "We'll give your lover a break soon enough. We'll see how long he lasts as soon as we start giving you a bit of this treatment."

Anger welled up in Harry's chest as though a monster was struggling to get out. He roared loudly and struggled hard against his binds, which moved as little as before.

"I see we have a new plan," said the masked man. "A little bit more fun with Potter first though - for trying to control my mind."

* * *

Outside the door two rubber ears scuttled away down the hall. They reached the first room on the left and the people listening into the small earpieces scooped them up.

"What's going on? What's happening?"

James looked at Celesca, her expression mirroring his own look of total horror.

"Don't ignore me!" hissed Albus. "And don't tell me nothing's going on. We can all hear those screams."

"It sounds like someone's got mum and dad tied up," said James quietly. "I don't want to know what they're doing to them."

Albus changed in an instant. He leapt up and landed next to James. "Oh, god, what are we going to do? What`s going to happen to us?"

"The best thing is not to panic," said Celesca.

"Don't panic!?" said James incredulously. "Didn't you hear what's going on down there?"

"Yes, I did," said Celesca, shuddering. "But losing your head wont do any good. How are we going to help them like that?"

James felt a surge of love so powerful for Celesca and her offer to help save his parents that he almost forgot everything else. Her composed approach steadied him and he listened to her intently.

"We have to think of something, we have to help them," said Celesca, thinking aloud. "But how?"

James looked hard at her. He didn't know exactly what they were going to do but he was sure the plan wouldn't take long to form. After all, Celesca hated not knowing how to do something and James was confident they'd have an idea sooner rather than later.

* * *

6:31 am, Thames Valley Water, West Access Road

Luna Lovegood Disapparated and felt the air of the morning on her face. It was handy that she'd landed in a breeze; the cool air dried fresh tears which had rolled down her cheeks. She felt bad enough that any of this was happening at all; bad enough that she was aiding this lunatic, bad enough that her daughter was in danger and beyond assistance. She didn't want to give them any more satisfaction through their manipulation of her by seeing her crying.

She made her way through long, unkempt grasses towards a gate nearby. A dirt track ran through it wide enough to accommodate large Muggle vehicles. The gate broke up a long mesh of wire fencing, most of it rusted and some with large sections torn away, flapping and creaking in the wind. A lone figure stood huddled against the open gate and Luna made her way towards him.

"Excuse me," said Luna quietly. The man turned around - Luna saw his face and gasped in utter horror. "YOU!?"

It was neither question nor statement but it was laced with corrosive hatred.

"Luna? Luna Lovegood?" asked the man. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, you swine of hell!"

"No, Luna, you've got it all wrong -"

"Really, Ron? Then please explain it to me."

Ron Weasley took off the black bobble hat which had been covering his head; his shock of red hair must have stuck out for a mile in such a bland location. He looked pale and worried and Luna, despite seething with anger that this man was involved with the threat against her little girl, refrained from launching into a rant at him.

"Luna, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Oh, no, you go first," said Luna.

"It's a long story and if we're here for the same reason then we both know that time is short."

"I can't believe you're working for these people!" Luna spat.

"I'm not…I haven't got a choice…but you can hardly talk."

"I haven't got a choice, either," said Luna. "But they're blackmailing me. What's your excuse?"

"I was on an undercover mission, top secret," Ron began. "I had a tip-off about a major new player on the Dark Wizard scene -"

"The Baron?"

"That's the one," said Ron. "My tip said they were close to doing something big and I tried to infiltrate them, to stop them."

"You could have brought Harry into it," said Luna hotly. "He'd have known what to do. He could've stopped all of this."

"I couldn't," said Ron, desperately. "They have people inside the Ministry and the Aurors. Harry would have made it a major priority - everyone would have known…the Baron would have disappeared underground and our chance to bring him in would have gone…so I decided to go in undercover, alone."

"That was dangerous," Luna observed. "But now that we know we're both involved we can help each other to stop it."

"It isn't that simple," said Ron. "I think I've been under the Imperius Curse. The Baron puts me under, makes me tell him everything that happens. There are loads of gaps in my memory…"

"You have to do something," said Luna.

"I've tried," said Ron. "I tried to stay undercover to get close enough to stop what was happening, but the Baron has no faults in his inner circle. There was no way in."

"Then help me do something," said Luna.

"I can't," said Ron. "I'm too afraid of what will happen."

"Please, Ron."

"No, Luna. It's dangerous enough that I'm trying to infiltrate the Baron's crew by myself."

"But that hasn't worked out, has it?"

"Well, er, no. Things didn't go as I planned," said Ron, pawing the ground with his boot. "They found me out, made me help them. They say they are watching Hermione and my kids and they'll do terrible things if I don't help them. All I have to do is pass stuff on. Its kept Hermione safe for months now…"

Luna softened. She moved forwards and suddenly hugged Ron, feeling as though someone finally knew what she was going through.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said soothingly.

"It's okay," Ron sniffed. Her smoothed Luna's back, drank in the scent of her hair. They broke apart.

"You'd better take this." She gave him the package. "It's what the Baron gave me."

"Thanks," said Ron. "I have to tell him you were here, and give this to whoever I'm meeting in there."

Ron jabbed his thumb towards the plant behind him. Luna nodded and turned to walk away. Ron spoke again, quickly and cautiously.

"How's Aleri?"

Luna stopped and closed her eyes.

"She's fine…I hope," she replied.

"What do you mean, you hope?"

"She's the reason I'm doing this," said Luna, sombrely. "They have her; they're watching her at school, ready to hurt her if I don't do as they ask."

Ron swore loudly and violently.

"Luna, I'm so sorry - I'm sorry I didn't - sorry that they'd…damn these bastards!"

Luna turned. "I think it'll be alright. Just do what they've told you and it'll all be okay. She'll be fine if whatever they're doing works out like they want it to."

Luna walked back to Ron and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Without saying another word she took a few steps back, turned and was gone. Ron sighed, and made his way towards the water plant.

* * *

6:37am, Sparrow's Nook

Malfoy knocked three times on the front door and waited. A few moments later a gap appeared in the curtain hanging in the long window next to the doorframe; it had been a while since he'd seen her but Malfoy would recognise that bushy mane anywhere. It had hardly changed in twenty-five years and it was the signifier that he'd found the right place. Next thing, locks unlocked and Hermione was standing before him in the open doorway.

"Draco, you'd better come in," said Hermione.

"Morning to you too, Granger," said Malfoy stepping into the house.

"It's been `Weasley' for a good few years now," said Hermione, leading the way towards the living room.

"No need to sound so rueful - it wasn't like you were forced into it," said Malfoy. "I've just never gotten used to calling you that name; and besides - I thought I already had quite enough insults for you to be going on with."

"I see you still haven't found that sense of humour you've been missing all these years," said Hermione bitterly.

"Is this him? Is this McDonagh?" asked Malfoy, ignoring Hermione's snipe.

"No, I keep lots of people tied up around the house," said Hermione sarcastically.

"What you do in the privacy of your own home is your business, Granger," said Malfoy coolly.

"How do you know his name?" asked Hermione.

"I've just come from interrogating Dahlgren at the Auror Office."

"Oh…is there anything left of him?"

"Not much."

Malfoy gave Hermione that dark grin that she'd never liked in him. He may have gone a long way to redeeming himself in Harry's eyes but she could never agree with him that Malfoy had shrugged off all the Dark aspects of his dubious family.

"What did McDonagh tell you?" Malfoy asked.

"Just his name, his mission and that he took his orders from Stian," said Hermione.

"What was his mission?"

"To kill me," said Hermione simply.

"Oh…" said Malfoy. There was genuine gravity in his look, though Hermione wasn't entirely sure she wanted his sympathy.

"What happened with Dahlgren? What did he do?"

"I'd rather tell all this to Potter, it's something he will need to handle himself," said Malfoy.

"Harry will bring me in on it anyway so you might as well just tell me," said Hermione.

"Yes - I suppose there's still nothing that one of you does without the other involved somewhere," said Malfoy. "It'd be cute - if I was the sort of person who liked cute things."

"We don't have time for this, Draco," said Hermione.

"Then just tell me where Potter is so I can tell him what's been going on."

"That isn't going to happen," said Hermione firmly. "Something dangerous is taking place and I don't know the full story. Until I do I will only trust Harry."

"I'm bringing you this information," said Malfoy incredulously. "You should trust me."

"I'm sorry, Draco, but I just don't."

Hermione met his angry gaze with a steely one of her own. She continued,

"I've been attacked in my own home by a wizard sent on the orders of a Senior Auror. Forgive me if I'm a little short in the trust department today, but think how you'd react if it was Scorpius in danger."

Malfoy swallowed hard. "You're right, Granger. You've been through an ordeal tonight - but I still need to give this information to Potter."

"If it's that big then give it to me, I'll take it to him personally."

Malfoy's lip curled into a grin. "Finally, we get to what this little dance is all about."

"Oh zip it, Malfoy!" said Hermione, her face reddening.

"Why won't you just tell me where he is?"

"Because I'm the Secret Keeper to where he's gone," said Hermione. "He trusted me to keep his location private and that isn't something I'm about to break. The only way any information, no matter how major, is going to reach Harry is through me."

"Very well," said Malfoy conceding. "Stian Dahlgren wrecked the Auror Office, practically destroyed it. He took out all the Floo Comm relays, including Potter's private line."

"That explains the F-Phone system being down," said Hermione nodding.

"Furthermore," said Malfoy, irked, "he obliterated the Unforgivable Trackers - if those curses are used now we wont know about it."

Hermione gasped. "Oh my word, things are worse than I thought. What's being done?"

"The Aurors are been called into the office," said Malfoy. "A junior Auror - who was attacked by Dahlgren tonight but managed to fight back and subdue him - is there to explain the situation. The MLE has mobilised and is trying to generate leads."

"Do they have any?"

"The only thing we have comes from Dahlgren. He said he takes his orders from someone calling themselves The Baron."

"I got that from McDonagh, too," said Hermione, " but that isn't an alias I've come across. So Stian really was giving him his orders?"

"Seems that way," said Malfoy. "The junior Auror had a thought that maybe all branches of this plan are acting largely ignorant of the end game. Stian's job was to disable the F-Comm Network, the Trackers and give McDonagh his orders. He didn't know anything bigger than that."

"So it could be that only the Baron knows everything," Hermione speculated.

"That's my thinking," said Malfoy. "There could be many parts to this, some which haven't even emerged yet. Those involved know only their own part. It makes it very difficult to stop."

"But how did you get wind of all this?" asked Hermione.

"A wizard was murdered in Barnet tonight," said Malfoy. "His face was unrecognisable but I'm guessing he was one Potter's Primas."

"The covert operations Aurors?" asked Hermione. "What makes you think so?"

"He gave two Muggle police officers this letter, said it had to be put into Potter's hands," said Malfoy. He handed Hermione the blood-stained envelope. "They were his dying words."

"Have you opened it?"

"No, if it's from a Prima it's for Potter's eyes only," said Malfoy. He smirked as he added, "and yours as well, probably."

Hermione turned the letter over in her hand. "You're sure about the origin of the letter?"

"Yes, they use a special parchment," said Malfoy. "Ink sinks into it and Potter has a special tool which allows him to read it. It's a security precaution. The only thing you can read is that symbol on the wax seal."

Hermione looked at the symbol. "What is it?"

"A depiction of the eclipse of the sun and moon," said Malfoy. "Light going into darkness - the crest and motto of the Primas."

"How do you know all this?"

"I was a Crow myself, once," said Malfoy. There was something like fondness in his eye as he recalled the memory.

"You were a Black Ops Auror?" said Hermione. "I never knew that."

"Secrecy was everything," said Malfoy. "Only Potter knew who we all were and we rarely worked with the same people twice. It was where Potter trained me. He wanted me to be the best Prima so I could be the most effective liaison to MI5."

"Well his instincts are good and nearly always right," said Hermione fondly. "And considering you know more than anyone about what's going on I think we can say he was right on this one."

"We still need to bring him into this," said Malfoy. "I'm going to go back and work with the Muggles - I have a feeling that there is more to that side of events than I've uncovered so far. You go to Potter, I`ll take McDonagh with me. I can interrogate him at MI5."

"I'll go right to Harry," said Hermione. "And keep your eyes peeled, Draco. If all the Agencies have been infiltrated they're probably watching you."

"I know they are, I'm ready for them."

"Good luck," said Hermione. She helped haul McDonagh to the garden and waited for Malfoy to Disapparate with him before going back inside to change. Despite the impending danger she couldn't hold back a swoop of excitement in her chest about where she was going. It was true that Ginny would be about as happy to see her as she would a Blast-Ended Skrewt but it was a small distraction that Hermione thought she could deal with tolerably well.

* * *

6:42am, Carlton Campaign Office

A knock on the door disturbed Kennedy as he was making final notes on the speech. Carlton beckoned the knocker into the room and he entered. Tall and broad, he stood importantly as Carlton addressed him.

"Yes, Auror, what is it?" he asked.

"Sir, I've just received a bulletin from the Office of Magical Law Enforcement," said the Auror. "The Auror Office was compromised tonight. They think it is part of something bigger. They've raised the threat level to 3."

"What does that mean?" asked Carlton.

"We've been instructed to add an extra layer of security around all members of the Wizengamot, you included."

"A Level 3 alert usually indicates an imminent threat with limited intel," said Kennedy. "Don't they know the precise nature of the threat or a target for it?"

"No, Sir," said the Auror. "Investigations are ongoing but from what I can gather no-one knows a great deal at this point."

"They're coming, Tom, this is it," said Carlton, pacing.

"Sir, relax," said Kennedy. "We're quite safe here."

"He's right," said the Auror. "With the Aurors and the security trolls you are well protected, Sir. However, you might what to considered revising your schedule for today in light of this development."

"Out of the question," said Carlton.

"But, Gamot," said the Auror. "The situation has changed and your plans have to change to accommodate it."

"Those aspects you are referring to of my tour today are vital," said Carlton. "They are not up for alteration. By all means add extra security, but on no account are we cancelling anything."

"I think that is a mistake, Sir."

"Your concerns are noted," said Carlton. "But until there is something that suggests I am a target of this new threat I'm quite happy to proceed normally. You may make the upgraded security arrangements, nothing more."

"Very good, Sir," said the Auror. He bowed, and ducked out of the room.

Carlton looked down at Kennedy, his expression clear to read. "Don't add your weight to that suggestion, Tom."

"I wont," said Kennedy. "I would not remind you of my concerns as you know them well by now. Shall we carry on?"

* * *

6:44am, Dublin

A small Lear jet was refuelling on the little runway of the airfield. Padraig Kelly monitored the loading of weapons and ammunition into the plane's hold, checking them off against the roster on his Blackberry. Declan, his deputy, emerged from the undercarriage compartment and approached.

"The crates are secured," he said.

"Good work," Kelly replied.

"When do we take off?"

"Fifteen minutes if we stay on schedule," said Kelly. "We'll be in Cardiff within an hour. What is it? You don't look filled with craic at the idea?"

"I'm sorry, Boss, but I just don't trust these wizardy-types father than I can throw them," said Declan.

"They've gotten this far," said Kelly. "I'm not thrilled to be working with them either but they've done stuff we've not been able to."

"I know that," said Declan. "But they've also shown they can be ruthless - how do we know they wont just bump us off when they're done with us? We've seen what they can do - we wont have much of a chance if they turn on us."

"This Baron fella has kept his word so far," said Kelly. "We keep our end up and I'm sure he'll behave honourably."

"I hope you're right, boss," said Declan. "I'd better go check the last of these boxes."

Kelly watched him go. He didn't trust these wizards much, far less than he'd let on to his men. Declan's words rang in his ears and he wondered whether he was doing the right thing after all. Either way, it was too late to back out now. Declan had been right about one thing - if the wizards got nasty they'd be nothing to stop them all being killed.

* * *

At the Thames Valley water plant, Ron Weasley found his way into the main treatment centre. Cillian Coles - who he'd seen once before - was there, as was another wizard brewing a mixture in a large cauldron. A third man - a portly and terrified-looking Muggle - was watching the gauges and meters on a control panel in front of him. He was sweating, but Ron thought it had little to do with the balmy August morning, and more to do with the pistol pointed at the back of his head.

"Ah, you must be the courier," said the wizard. He had a pointed goatee beard and pencil moustache. "I'm the Brewer. Elton Brewer, to be precise. Do you have a name?"

"I was instructed not to give my name," said Ron coyly.

"Right," said Brewer. "Is that the last vial?"

"I don't know what's in the package. I wasn't instructed to-"

"Look…right," said Brewer. He had a strange, melodic sort of voice. "Give it here then." Ron handed over the package. "You may go now."

"You are supposed to tell the Baron I gave you the package," said Ron.

"It'll be taken care of," said Brewer. "Now go."

Ron obeyed and left. Coles turned to Brewer. "How long will this take?"

"You Muggles will never appreciate the beauty and power, the fine art of a softly simmering cauldron," said Brewer, lovingly adding the vial from Ron's package and stirring the mixture gently.

"Just answer the question."

"When it's ready, I'll let you know," said Brewer. "In the meantime, if you raise your voice to me in that manner again I will cut out your filthy, gypsy tongue and feed it to your mother. Are we clear?"

Coles gulped, such was the power he felt at Brewer's intent laden words. He thought it best not to answer, choosing instead to hold his tongue and watch quietly as the wizard worked.

* * *

6:49am Zante

James and Celesca returned to the bedroom. They'd been listening outside the door to the master bedroom and neither liked what they'd heard.

"Well?" asked Albus as they returned.

"There are definitely two people in there," said James. "We heard two voices."

"What do they want?"

"They kept asking your father where the other Aurors were," said Celesca. "I'd have thought that they'd all be at home or at the Ministry somewhere."

"No, they must have been after something other than that," said James. "My Dad's always going off on secret missions - my uncle Ron, too. They go on undercover jobs."

"These people must want to know where they are, so they can attack them maybe," said Celesca.

"Has Dad told them anything?" asked Albus.

"No," said James. "But it sounds like its as painful as hell keeping quiet."

"What's the plan?"

"The plan, little bro, is that you're going to take Lily to our room and barricade yourself in," said James. "Don't even think about arguing."

"Wasn't going to."

"Oh - okay then," said James, surprised that Albus was being so compliant.

"What about you?" Albus asked.

"We're going to try and help mum and dad," said James.

They hurried Lily and Albus to the room furthest away and James made sure his brother understood how important it was to block the door as quietly as possible. James returned swiftly to the other room.

"Right, are we set on a plan?" he asked Celesca.

"We heard them say they're going to tort-…hurt your mum," she replied. "That means they're going to have to move her to wherever they've been working on your dad. We'll go back to the room and when your dad stops yelping we'll know they're about to move on to your mum."

"And we burst in the door and hex for our lives."

"Something like that."

"Nothing that can go wrong there, then," said James sarcastically.

"Got any better ideas?" asked Celesca.

"No."

"Then shush up and lets go."

"Celly," said James, grabbing her arm as she tried to pass him. "In case anything goes wrong…"

"Shut up, James," she said hotly. She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him hard.

"I was hoping you'd do that," he said, grinning.

"You're incorrigible, you know that? Come on."

* * *

6:52am, MI5 Headquarters, London

Draco Malfoy slung the flaccid form of McDonagh into a holding cell. He then moved around the room casting all manner of security spells and jinxes around the place to keep the prisoner from escaping. Satisfied that the room was secure, Malfoy stepped out and made for the main office. He found Director Barnes there, going over some paperwork with Agent Scott.

"Malfoy! There you are!" said Barnes. "We were starting to think you'd deserted us."

"I have a prisoner in Holding Two," said Malfoy. "I'll need an interrogation pack as soon as you can get one."

"A prisoner? From where?"

Malfoy looked at Agent Scott. "I'd rather keep that private."

"Its okay, Draco," said Barnes. "Scott knows - I brought him in."

"Fine," said Malfoy coldly. "I still need that pack."

"Amazed that you'd need our stuff to help you," said Scott, absently. "I'd have thought we'd be far too primitive."

Malfoy eyed Scott intently, sensing the slur in his voice. "Primitive still has its uses - you still work here, after all."

"Enough, you two," said Barnes. "You're on the same team, remember?"

"What are you looking over?" asked Malfoy.

"A report from Ireland," said Barnes. "One of the men at the top of our active list is on the move."

"Who is he?"

"Padraig Kelly," said Scott, handing Malfoy a file. "Ex-IRA - you know who they are don't you? Good - formed a splinter group to carry on the war after the Cork Accords. Been attacking Northern Ireland for years and using Albanian and Middle Eastern gangs to carry out attacks on the British mainland."

"Uses other groups to cover his tracks, I suppose?" said Malfoy skimming through the file.

"Yes, only he's stupid enough to pay them in Euros from Irish banks," said Barnes. "We've been tracking him for some time."

"Why haven't you brought him in before now?"

"We can't send Special Forces or Secret Agents into Eire now," said Barnes. "It was one of the agreements of the Accords. We can only have one full-time intelligence operative there at any time."

"You say Kelly's on the move?" asked Malfoy. "Where to?"

"We're trying to find that out," said Scott. "Our man in Ireland tracked them to an airfield. A Lear jet landed there thirty minutes ago and is being prepped to leave. It received priority clearance for take off but we're trying to track where that order came from. Its proving oddly difficult information to obtain. Once we have that we'll know their destination."

"When you know, tell me," said Malfoy. "I'll go and meet them."

"Excuse me, Sir, but this isn't a…magic matter," Scott objected to Barnes. "I think one of our own Agents should go."

"Too slow, too obvious and too limited," said Malfoy dismissively. "I can be wherever he ends up in seconds."

"Fine, but you take Scott with you," said Barnes. "You still work with us and we have to be accountable for whatever happens. Scott goes with you - that's the deal."

Malfoy looked coldly at Scott. "Fine. Keep me apprised. I'll be in Holding Two."

Barnes raised his eyebrows at Scott, who looked as though he found the idea of working with Malfoy just as distasteful as the wizard did.

* * *

Harry struggled with what little energy he had left to free himself from his binds, but they just wouldn't give. His face stung hard and he thought he could still feel the tread of the boot of the intruder where it had impacted with his jaw. He had no energy left to fight; he could only watch as they strung Ginny up in the position he'd been in for the better past of the last hour. When the first spell hit her he tensed up at the sound of her screams. He had to do something.

Focusing all the strength he had left, all that was keeping him alive, he looked over at Ginny. Each yelp, each scream, lodged itself in his chest and chilled him. He focused again, trying to keep his mind clear. Occlumency was one of the first bits of magic Harry learned to do without a wand. It had led onto an natural aptitude of all kinds of mind magic. He had learned how to break into a mind and control it. He intended to use the technique now to siphon Ginny's pain onto himself, so she wouldn't have to suffer as he had.

Concentrating as hard as he could Harry broke into Ginny's mind. He felt the bizarre sensation of crossing into her mind and prepared for the waves of agony to hit him again. Oddly, they never came. Harry was startled; he knew he was in her mind as he recognised the sensation, but there was no pain. He could hear her screams and see her thrashing about on the bed but there was no doubt about it - she wasn't in any kind of pain at all.

She's putting it on Harry thought. Anger, disbelief, confusion all settled on him. There was only one explanation for this and Harry couldn't even solicit the thought in his head. It was he worst, the grossest, the most unforgivable violation of everything right and proper. He wouldn't believe it - it couldn't be true. But after what he'd felt how could be deny it?

* * *

6:57am

Malfoy flicked through the file as he made his way to the holding area. He was only half concentrating, thinking more about how much he could trust Agent Scott and how a domestic flight plan could be so elusive. Something didn't add up and Malfoy didn't like it. Right now, though, he had to focus - McDonagh had to know more than he was letting on. Malfoy was determined to do all he could to find out what; after all, if he went to Harry Potter and said he hadn't been strong-armed with McDonagh, after he tried to kill Hermione Weasley, he didn't think Harry would be too pleased with him.

* * *

Ginny's last fake cry echoed away and for a moment all was quiet. There was then a sudden gust in the room and, quite to Harry's astonishment, Hermione materialised right in front of him. At the same time there was an almighty crash to the right; the bedroom door had been kicked or blasted open and James and Celesca dived into the room.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Stupefy!"

"STUPEFY!"

There was a sort of zinging, rushing sound as the three spells blasted forth from the wands of their casters. The wand of the lead intruder shot into the air as James' spell hit him; Celesca's and Hermione's spells criss-crossed in mid-air and connected with their targets, sending both the masked men slamming hard into the walls behind them.

"I should've used the Stunning Spell," said James idly, moving forwards and rolling one of the intruders over with his feet. "I feel like the odd one out. Dad!"

Harry's limp form was slumped against the wall nearby. James turned and knelt at his father's side, working to untie him.

"Help your mother," Harry whispered. It was all he could manage. "Hermione…"

Hermione crouched down beside him as James crossed the room to Celesca, who had already begun working through the binds on Ginny's ankles. Hermione smoothed her hand across the bruises on Harry's wounded face, then ran her wand all over his body, casting spell after spell after spell - casting faster than Harry had ever seen her do before. Her eyes glistened in the morning sunlight and Harry tried to reach up and dry them, but Hermione simply swatted his arm down. With each spell he felt a little better and soon he felt he had enough strength to speak.

"How did you know to come up here?" he whispered.

"I Disapparated outside," said Hermione. "But I heard Ginny's screams and came straight up."

Anger and confusion flooded into Harry's mind at the mention of Ginny.

"That'll do for now," he said to Hermione. "I have to find out what's really going on."

"What do you mean?"

Harry ignored her and hauled himself up. "James - my wand." James reached over to the bedside table and handed the wand to Harry, who immediately felt the warmness of the holly and phoenix feather as though it were an elixir. "Celesca, take James out of here, please. Can you make sure everyone goes downstairs and stays there?"

Celesca quickly understood and nodded, but James was confused. "Dad, what's going on?"

"I'll explain later, James," said Harry, "but right now your mother and I need to have a little chat."

There was such ferocious contempt in Harry's voice that James didn't resist as Celesca slipped her arm into his and guided him from the room.

"Hermione?" said Harry.

She nodded. Pointing her wand at the door she said, "Reparo! Silencio!" The door flew back to its hinge and glowed slightly as the silencing spell hit it. Harry limped to Ginny and looked fiercely down at her.

"You'd better start talking and you'd better start right now."

7:00am

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