Thanks again to everyone who has taken the time to post a review.
I'm afraid that there is a not a lot of action in this chapter, but it is necessary to have it in order to move things along. Ironically - considering not much happens - I have had more trouble writing this one than any other…
Chapter 13 - Waiting Game
Saturday 30th August 1997
'Quiet!' hissed Severus Snape, holding up his hand as a signal for the others to remain still. It was half past two in the morning and as he led a large party of nearly fifty Death Eaters through the winding streets of Hogsmeade, he was thankful that there was a lot of cloud cover tonight. Conditions were perfect for this operation; the new moon and low cloud meant that the village was as dark as it was possible to be. He knew that the Aurors on guard duty would be at a low ebb at this time in the morning, but was equally aware that everything depended on them remaining undetected.
He approached the door of Honeydukes and non-verbally cast the charm to open it. Slipping inside the store, he approached the cellar and crept down the ladder, discovering the hatch that Potter had assured him was there. Opening it as silently as he could, he gestured furiously for his companions to enter and so begin the short trip through the passage to the castle. Bella was first and did not look pleased.
'Why can't we pay a visit to the owners upstairs?' she whispered. 'We could have a little fun with them before entering the school.'
Snape looked at her with contempt. 'Because we must not be discovered, of course. The Dark Lord will not tolerate failure, Bella. You heard his orders; no one is to be harmed for the moment. Not here and not in the school. Will you be the one to disobey the Dark Lord?'
Bella regarded him with a look of pure loathing, but did not demur. Instead, she slipped into the passageway closely followed by the others. The third person in line was Draco.
Snape was deeply concerned about this aspect of the operation. He knew that Draco did not have sufficient Occlumency skills to deceive the Dark Lord for any length of time and so was running a huge risk in having him so close to his master. He knew that they had to take this gamble; wagering their lives on the assumption that the Dark Lord would be too pre-occupied to notice anything amiss. He smiled at the irony; he was not willing to let Potter risk discovery and yet had been forced to take the same gamble himself. Well, some things could not be helped. Snape had given Draco explicit instructions; stay as far away from the Dark Lord as possible and - once in the school - find any reason for staying out of his immediate presence. He had also provided his former student with a Portkey should things go awry. A Portkey and a set of instructions that the young man had reluctantly sworn to obey.
He nodded curtly at Draco as he passed, the other Death Eaters following in his wake. At the end of the line, the Dark Lord himself approached the hatch, accompanied by Wormtail and Nagini.
'Well done, Severus,' Voldemort said as he watched his pet slither down the hatch after Pettigrew. 'I was not aware of such a method of entry. I can see there is much yet to learn about Hogwarts. I shall enjoy having you teach me.' He seemed amused by the prospect and nodded to Snape before entering the passage. Snape took one last glance around the shop looking for evidence of their passage. Finding none, he too slid into the opening, closing the hatch silently behind him.
***********
Hermione was sick with worry as she poked at her breakfast with her fork. She had no appetite at all and had slept badly, feeling strangely abandoned after Harry had left them yesterday. She knew that by now Voldemort was probably at Hogwarts and the thought of what would happen to Harry if he was discovered made her feel almost physically sick. She just wanted it all to be over; the waiting was proving to be harder on her nerves that the prospect of facing Voldemort in person once again.
She thought back to the previous day when Harry had left for Hogwarts. His departure was an absolute secret - not even Minerva knew that he was going to enter the school. Rufus had said that it was better this way; they could not take the chance that someone would slip up and blow the plan before the operation had even got started. Minerva did not 'need to know,' and that was that.
Harry had been nervous, but she had sensed a certain degree of excitement from him too.
'You will be careful, won't you? she had asked.
'Of course. You too. You will be in more danger than I, remember. He wants revenge on you for destroying his Horcruxes. If it were up to me, you wouldn't be going anywhere near the school.' The concern in his eyes had been evident.
'Then it's just as well it is not up to you, isn't it?' she had asked with a smile. She could not keep up the pretence for long, however.
'Oh, Harry,' she had said, clutching him tightly. 'Come back to me. I don't know what I will do if anything happens to you.' The prospect of losing him after discovering their love was just too much to bear.
'I will,' he had replied. 'I have many reasons for fighting, Hermione, but only one for wanting to survive. Before I found you, the prospect of dying did not seem that important so long as I won. Now I have a reason to live.' He had lifted her chin with his fingers, his touch electrifying her. 'The very best reason,' he had added.
He had left then, after a final embrace, and she had never felt as lonely in her whole life; not even back in first year when she'd had no friends and no life. Now Harry was her life, and he was in mortal danger.
She glanced up as Ron sat down across from her, a full cooked breakfast in front of him. He started attacking it with relish. How could he be so unfeeling! she thought to herself in anger. After a few moments, Ron glanced up at her, seemingly aware of her scrutiny and disapproval.
'Not hungry?' he asked.
She shook her head.
Ron considered her for a moment. 'Don't take this the wrong way, Hermione, but you look bloody awful. You need to eat - and sleep,' he added as an afterthought.
Hermione flared at these words, angry with Ron for seeming so unconcerned. It was then that she noticed with surprise and no small degree of shame that his hands were trembling slightly; the cutlery in his fingers shaking a little. Of course he was feeling this too. Harry was his best friend.
Ron noticed her observation and grinned ruefully. He put down his knife and fork and stared at her in earnest.
'Look, Hermione, I know this is not easy, but you have to look after yourself, for Harry's sake if nothing else.' He ignored the sudden glare that she flashed him and ploughed on. 'We are about to go into a battle for our lives and we will need all of our wits about us if we are to succeed. You will be of no use to anyone if you are hungry and exhausted - if anything you will become a liability. Harry will have enough to deal with as it is without having to worry about your physical condition. You need to eat and sleep to improve his chances, if nothing else. Do you understand that?'
He held her gaze, defying her to contradict him. Finally she broke eye contact and hung her head.
'You're right, Ron. I do understand.' She picked up her knife and fork and looked him in the eye once again. 'Thank you,' she added, before beginning to eat.
***********
Harry put down the book he had been reading and sighed. Glancing at his watch he noticed that it was lunchtime but he did not feel hungry. Despite this, he picked up his backpack and retrieved some sandwiches that he had prepared for this mission and began to eat. He knew that he would need all of his strength when the time came.
It was just like waiting for the first task back in fourth year, he realised. He knew that he could not avoid what was coming and so just wanted it all to be over, one way or the other. When he had decided to come to the school early he was aware that the biggest challenge he would have to face would not be Voldemort; rather it would be the stress and tension - not to mention the tedium - of waiting for three days for everything to kick off. With nothing else to do, he found himself dwelling more and more on what lay ahead.
At the moment he felt like he was getting some idea of what it was like to be a condemned criminal waiting for death. He had heard the adage that 'nothing concentrates the mind like the prospect of being hanged in the morning.' Unfortunately, he now realised ruefully, what the mind tended to concentrate on was the fact that it was in a body that was going to be hanged in the morning.*
He shook his head with a twisted grin on his face, amused by the black humour. He really would need to find something to take his mind off things.
He had arrived in the early hours of Friday morning, utilising the same means of entry that he knew Snape was going to use the following night. Creeping into Honeydukes under his cloak, he had carefully lifted the hatch and had travelled along the passage until arriving in the school. He had immediately made his way to the seventh floor, scanning the Marauder's Map and treading very carefully so as not to disturb anyone or anything, be it human, ghost or portrait (not to mention Peeves!) When he had arrived at the bare wall where he knew the room to be, he had begun pacing three times thinking over and over about needing some place to hole up for a few days. The room had not disappointed him.
When he had entered, he had been delighted to discover a bed, sofa, stacked bookcases and a bathroom. It was exactly what he needed (although a TV would have been nice - he'd cursed the fact that electricity did not work in the school). Since then, his time had consisted of dull routine. Sleeping when he could, eating when he should and reading when he was doing neither. He wasn't even halfway through the waiting time and already he was going stir crazy.
He picked up the Marauder's Map to see if he could glean an insight into what was going on. He had woken in the very early hours of the morning and - being unable to get back to sleep - he had studied the Marauder's Map for something to do. It was then that he had felt a sudden lurch in his stomach when he had noticed a particular name amongst the throng of that had appeared since he had last checked.
Tom Riddle.
He had followed Riddle's footsteps for most of the morning, noticing how he had first entered the Great Hall and had sat in Dumbledore's old chair. That had angered him more than he thought it would.
He then watched the map as all of the teachers had been brought into Voldemort's presence. McGonagall, Sprout, Grubbly-Plank and Vector had all been summoned and it was with some relief that he finally satisfied himself that none of them were being harmed. Evidently they were doing as Rufus had suggested and were obeying all orders that were addressed to them.
So far, so good.
It was at that point that the voice of Lord Voldemort had reverberated throughout the castle. Harry suspected that he was using a Sonorus charm, but whatever he had been using, his message had been clear. He had been speaking to all of the magical entities within the school. The ghosts, the portraits and anyone else who might be tempted to report the presence of the invasion force to outside parties. The words had been stark; if Lord Voldemort was discovered in the school then every teacher and every portrait within the school would be destroyed. Harry did not expect anyone - or anything - to defy Voldemort in this matter. Not after that kind of threat.
He had been particularly interested when the footsteps of Tom Riddle had approached the trophy cabinets in the third floor gallery, for he knew exactly what was going on there. The footsteps had stopped where Riddle's award had been placed and Harry had felt a huge degree of satisfaction as he watched Riddle stand in place for a long moment; surely contemplating the gap where his Horcrux should have been. The footsteps had strutted off at speed for the Great Hall after that and Harry could almost feel the anger from where he was sitting.
Glancing around the map now, he noticed a few familiar names. Snape was in his old dungeon, no doubt going through his old store and dreaming of better times. Bella, he noticed without surprise, was rarely out of her master's presence, whereas Draco Malfoy was never in it. It had taken him a while to notice it, but whenever Voldemort moved around the castle, Draco made a corresponding move away from his master. Under any other circumstances Harry would have been amused; instead he found himself wondering what it meant. One thing he did pay particular attention to however; he noticed that Wormtail was never - not even for a minute - out of Voldemort's sight. This meant that Nagini too was never out of her master's presence if what Snape said was true. Wherever Voldemort went, the snake would follow. Harry marvelled at what his father and friends had achieved all those years ago when they created this map. How it managed to detect everyone was beyond him. Their ingenuity did confirm one thing though. Snape was correct in his assertion; Voldemort was keeping his pet particularly close.
He placed the map back down and removed something from his pocket and regarded the object carefully. It was an enchanted Galleon; one of the fake coins Hermione had created back in fifth year for the DA. She had suggested he take one so that she could alert him when the Ministry force arrived at the school. Trust her to come up with something so brilliant, he mused. Right now, the Galleon was more than a tool; it was a link to Hermione and a reminder of just what a remarkable person she was. He held the coin tight in his hand as he closed his eyes and attempted to snatch some sleep.
***********
Lord Voldemort sat in the head's chair in the Great Hall and tried to conceal his impatience. He had known that this period of waiting would be the hardest aspect of this mission and so was determined to set an example to his followers; they would maintain discipline and he would show them how. Besides, if any were to displease him, they would soon feel his wrath.
It was because he was so close to finally achieving his goal, he knew. He had worked for years to reach this point and knowing that the hour of reckoning was only a couple of days away made the waiting harder, not easier. He believed that nothing could go wrong and that it was only a matter of time before the Ministry fell to him, but he still wanted it to be all over. He tried to enjoy the anticipation of victory, but found that he could not.
Taking the castle had proved to be surprisingly easy. Severus had been as good as his word and had managed to find a loophole in the school's defences that he himself had known nothing about. He actually felt a little jealous of his chief lieutenant's knowledge of this castle, previously supposing his own knowledge of the school to be superior to anyone else. This was the only place he had ever felt truly at home and it angered him somewhat to realise that there were people who knew the place more intimately than he did.
But this didn't matter. He would soon gain this knowledge; Severus would show him all, of that he had no doubt.
He realised that he would have to reward Severus for his recent efforts and he admonished himself for ever doubting the loyalty of the man. Severus had shown these past few months exactly where this loyalty lay. By killing Dumbledore and laying Potter on a plate he had done more for him than all of his other servants put together. His tact, discretion and wise counsel had proved to be invaluable and he wished that more of his followers were as reliable and as intelligent as Severus. He would make it clear to the others that he was to be his own right hand man - he trusted him enough for that now, although trust was still something of an alien concept to him. He appreciated the irony of the situation; whilst he had repeatedly claimed that trust was the preserve of fools, he had now come to realise that everybody had to trust somebody.
Perhaps he would make Severus Headmaster of this very school? He realised that he would make an excellent choice to implement the educational reforms that were necessary and also believed that Severus would desire such a reward. He was more than capable of handling the teaching staff.
He considered the other teachers that had been brought before him when they had arrived. He did not want to slay these people as he knew he would need them. Besides, he respected their magical ability; the four brought before him were of the highest standard and all pure bloods. This, Lord Voldemort mused, was what was really going to matter in his new society; the purity of blood. Pure bloods were to be preferred, obviously, but half bloods were more than acceptable. Within a few generations he intended to strengthen the old bloodlines; not weaken them. What he would not tolerate however, was mudblood filth and half breeds like the oaf Hagrid. It was as well for him that he was not amongst those summoned.
The teachers had been shocked, obviously, particularly after he had issued his threat to the castle. It would not do to have some portrait informing a counterpart elsewhere. The threat seemed to have worked though, and he was now unconcerned on that score, although it had been a worry. After issuing the threat, he had made it clear to the teaching staff that if they accepted his authority and agreed to teach his curriculum, they would be spared. Not surprisingly, all had agreed. It mattered not if this was due to fear or not; so long as they obeyed.
And then he had gone looking for his Horcrux. His fingers balled into fists as the rage surged within him when he contemplated the empty space where his award had once stood. How dare they! Not only had they destroyed a fragment of his soul, they'd had the nerve to remove a legacy of his time at Hogwarts; a lasting reminder of his greatness. He felt violated by this act and vowed revenge. The blood traitor and mudblood would pay for this insult. Their deaths would not be pleasant; he would make them reveal everything they knew before destroying them.
He found to his pleasure that he could enjoy the anticipation of this particular victory. With this thought, Lord Voldemort calmed himself and looked forward to the new order that lay ahead.
***********
Sunday August 31st 1997
Rufus Scrimgeour regarded his friend who sat across from him in the Minister's office. They were sharing a nightcap and Rufus reflected on just how many times the two of them had done this. He wondered mirthlessly where the last thirty years had gone. He and James had been through so much together and he felt reassured by the presence of his old friend.
'Are you sure everything is arranged?' he asked.
James smiled. 'For the tenth time, Rufus, everything is in hand. If we have missed anything then it is too late now. Please, try not to worry about matters you cannot control.'
Rufus returned the smile. It was an old argument; James was much the more phlegmatic of the two of them - he never seemed to get worked up about things out with his control. He was, however, extremely efficient at dealing with those things he could control.
'How many times is it now?' he asked.
James raised an eyebrow. 'That we have done this? Too many, I think. It is always the waiting that is the hardest part. I thought it would get easier as I got older, but I have learned that patience still comes hard to me. Not long now, though.' He paused for a moment. 'Do you think Harry can do it?'
Rufus took a long moment before replying. 'If you had asked me that even a month ago, I would have thought you mad.' He shook his head, thinking of Harry alone in the castle, surrounded by his enemies. 'I have discovered that Albus was right; Harry really is a remarkable young man. He is lucky in his two friends also. Perhaps there is some hope for the future after all. The younger generation may yet save us all.'
'Speaking of which,' began James, 'are you sure that the decision to use unqualified Aurors is the right one? We cannot afford to rely on inexperience tomorrow.'
Rufus sighed; they had argued about this for days. 'I am not happy about it, old friend, but we need every able body we can find. There are over thirty witches and wizards nearing the end of the training; I cannot afford to ignore them. If it makes you feel any better, I will make sure they are not in the front line.'
James nodded soberly. 'I just have concerns about their inexperience.' He smiled suddenly. 'No doubt our superiors thought the same about us all those years ago. It must be a prerequisite of getting old; one must forget what it is to be young.'
Rufus smiled and refilled their glasses. 'So, what shall we drink to?'
Their seemed to be only one answer to that, both men thought.
'To the future! They chorused.
***********
Platform Nine and Three Quarters did not seem nearly as busy as usual, thought Hermione, despite the presence of dozens of Ministry Aurors. She and Ron had arrived just after nine that morning having been collected in person by Rufus and escorted to King's Cross. She had watched with some trepidation as the first of the Hogwarts students had arrived to take the train. Each had been asked to pass through a 'Ministry Security Check Point' that had been set up in one of the platform waiting rooms. Once there, these students had been informed that they would not be travelling to Hogwarts; instead, they were to be transferred to a secure location prepared in advance. The Aurors on duty had been diligent in ensuring that a sample of hair was obtained before allowing these people to leave - with an escort. Questions were asked by some of the indignant students (and parents) but no answers had been forthcoming; only apologies.
There were to be no exceptions apart from those deemed trustworthy and capable enough by her and Ron. Rufus had explained before they had left the Briars that morning, and had provided them with another surprise.
'I will be relying on the two of you to vouch for the reliability of any students you think able to help,' the Minister had said. 'Normally I would not consider allowing such youth to become involved, but desperate times call for desperate measures. We will need every wand we can muster today.'
He had then placed his hand into his pocket and produced two envelopes, one for both her and Ron. Upon opening, Hermione had been slightly disconcerted to discover the Head Girl badge and - glancing at Ron - saw that he had similarly been rewarded with the position of Head Boy. Strangely, she had felt saddened. She had desired the appointment since first attending Hogwarts, but now realised that it was meaningless. Ron too had looked strangely subdued when the realisation had dawned. He had looked directly at Rufus.
'This shouldn't be mine; this badge should have gone to Harry.'
Rufus had nodded gravely. 'It does you credit to say so, Ron, but remember that Harry is in no position to receive the badge. I am sure he would agree that you are deserving of such an honour. Besides,' he had added, addressing the two of them, 'there is an ulterior motive for receiving these positions. Had Minerva not already appointed the two of you to the roles, I would have been forced to order that she do so.'
'Why?' she had asked.
'Because I want the first people off that train and into the school to be real students. They will be watchful today and no matter how skilfully we disguise ourselves, someone may slip up. If the lead group consists of real students then it may put them at ease. You will be in the prefect carriage and traditionally the Head Boy and Girl lead the students into the school. Any students you deem fit to help us will accompany you.'
The final say on who could go went to Rufus, of course, but so far he had not protested at those selected. She and Ron had gathered every member of the DA that had come through the barrier and had explained to them what was going on. Even now, when she thought on it, she felt the emotion well up inside of her.
She had looked at those gathered in front of her. At Neville and Luna; Susan Bones and Terry Boot; Dean and Lavender; Padma and Parvati; Ernie and Lee; Seamus and Justin and all the other members of the DA who had come to hear what she'd had to say. She had noticed the sadness in their eyes and had remembered that they still thought Harry was dead.
She had told them nearly everything; of how Voldemort awaited them in the school; of the Ministry plan and of how this was their best chance of defeating him. She had then looked them in the eye and told them that they were free to choose; that they did not have to come; that no one would think the less of them for walking away.
A long silence had greeted her words; a silence finally broken by Neville.
'You just tell us what to do, Hermione. There is no way any of us are walking away from this.' He had turned to the others before continuing. 'We do this for Harry; he would expect nothing less. We'll make him proud.'
The others had cheered their agreement and Hermione had thought her heart was going to burst; such was the swelling of emotion within her breast. She had blinked back the tears that had threatened and had been relieved to realise that the others thought she was crying about Harry.
Rufus had been adamant about that. No one - absolutely no one - was to be told about Harry until the time came for him to reveal himself. Hermione had wanted to argue, but the old Auror had regarded her gently.
'It increases the risk of Harry being discovered, Hermione. That is reason enough for silence, is it not?'
She'd had to agree.
Now as she and Ron led the DA members onto the train she cast one last glance down the platform at Rufus. He was filling his flask with Polyjuice potion but some instinct or other - perhaps the same instinct that had allowed him to survive twenty five years as an Auror - made him look up at her.
He smiled and gave her a reassuring nod before stepping onto the train. She turned to the door and grabbed the handrail. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. Harry needed her to be strong today.
Showtime.
***********
Draco Malfoy slumped into a large armchair in front of the Slytherin common room fire and sighed deeply. He was feeling exhausted at the moment and put it down to the stress he was feeling. He glanced at his watch and realised that it would be soon. He knew from his conversation with Snape that today was the day for him to act.
He had spent the last forty eight hours desperately trying to stay out of the Dark Lord's presence. He had originally thought that it would not be too difficult given the size of Hogwarts, but the Dark Lord had been constantly on the move, examining almost every inch of the school that had once been his home. It had been a complicated exercise for him to think of reasons and excuses to be somewhere else whenever word came through of the Dark Lord's approach. It had only been yesterday - after his master had visited the Slytherin common room - that Draco had realised that it was the perfect place to go. The Dark Lord would not return here and no one would think it odd for Draco to take up residence in what had been his own home a few short months earlier.
He twiddled his wand in his fingers as he questioned whether he would be able to carry out the instructions from Snape. His former Professor had provided him with a Portkey so he was aware that he could escape at any time. But Snape had warned him of the consequences of such action. Follow orders and then escape; try anything else and there would be repercussions. The implied threat in Severus' voice when he said that had been evident.
He still did not know what his former teacher was up to. Draco was no fool; he knew that something would happen today but he had no idea what. When he had asked Snape for more details, he had been curtly informed that he did not 'need to know.' And that had been that. Draco was finding the lack of information to be the hardest thing to bear. All throughout his life he had been the one in the know; the one with all the answers, and this uncertainty was eating away at his resolve bit by bit. It occurred to him that the reason he had been so well informed in the past was because of the influence of his father. Perhaps Snape was deliberately keeping him in the dark to teach him a lesson. A lesson on what it was like for the majority of people who had neither wealth nor power. Draco grinned ruefully. He wouldn't put it past his former teacher to impart one final lesson to his former student.
Glancing at his watch again he realised that the hour had finally come. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Draco stood and slowly made his way to the common room exit. He cast one last glance around the room he had called home for six years. It occurred to him that he might never see it again.
The strange thing was, the prospect of that didn't seem very important anymore.
***********
The tension was building as the Hogwarts express neared its destination. The noise levels in each of the compartments was noticeably lower than at the start of the journey as each person on board contemplated what lay ahead. The sun was now quite low on the western horizon and more than a few people were acutely aware that this might well be the last sunset any of them would ever see.
Hermione glanced at Ron and saw that her friend was doing his best to conceal his nerves. The two of them had spent most of the journey walking the corridors and offering words of encouragement to their friends. They had popped in to see Rufus on a few occasions and had been amused at their last visit to discover him in the guise of a second year Slytherin boy. Apparently the boy had been one of the few options left to the Minister who had not had the wit to pick his disguise earlier. James Walsh was similarly disguised but he had seen the funny side of the whole affair more readily than his friend.
Her attention was diverted by a knocking on the compartment door. She glanced up and recognised Rufus, despite his disguise. She smiled.
'I don't know whether to stand to attention or hex you for disturbing me, Minister. I don't think I will be able to look at you in the same light again.'
'Very amusing,' replied Rufus as he sat down next to her. 'I have been hearing the same wise cracks throughout the train; I had hoped for better from you at least, Miss Granger.' He had tried to sound severe, but the simple fact was that Hermione could only see a spotty twelve year old boy in front of her. She finally gave up the pretence and laughed loudly. Despite himself, Rufus joined in.
'OK, now that you have got that out of your system, you should know that we will be arriving in Hogsmeade station in about ten minutes. I just wanted to make sure you were ready.'
The news sobered Hermione immediately. She nodded gravely.
'Good,' said Rufus. 'Now remember, you and the rest of the real students will lead and I and the impostors will be right behind you. Hopefully the fact that you are genuine will be enough to put the enemy at ease. Once inside the castle, you will have to follow my lead.' He glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. 'We have only been able to plan the attack up to a point; a lot depends on when Harry makes his move. The idea is that he will act once we are all in the Great Hall. After that, it's going to be a free for all, I think. But whatever happens, wait for my signal. Understood?'
Hermione nodded again, amazed that she was able to stop herself from shaking. 'I'll make sure we are all ready,' she replied. 'Good luck, Minister.'
'Good luck to you too, Miss Granger,' replied Rufus, getting to his feet. He gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. 'Just keep your head down. Be safe.'
Hermione watched him leave the compartment and resolved to remain strong, despite her fear. She thought of Harry at that moment and took out the fake Galleon she would use to let them know when they arrived, fingering it gently. She took strength from the fact that she would be seeing him soon, whatever happened.
Don't worry, my love, I'll be there soon.
***********
Stephen Tweed was feeling nervous as he looked at his reflection in the mirror that hung in the bathroom at the end of his carriage. He did not recognise himself, of course; at the moment the face that stared back at him was that of a fourth year Ravenclaw boy. As well as being nervous, Stephen was also excited at the prospect of what lay ahead. Having left Hogwarts just over three years ago, he had been delighted to have discovered that he had been granted a place on the Ministry four year Auror Training Program. It was something that he had wanted to do since he was a small child and the joy he'd felt at achieving his goal was still fresh within him.
He had been surprised a few days ago, however, when his instructor had asked the class if they felt they were up to going on a real, live mission. Normally this would have been out of the question for trainees with a year of the course still to complete, but the instructor had said that the Ministry needed every available person they could find - if they were willing to go.
Stephen had not needed to be asked twice. With a sense of excitement, he had signed up for the mission, even though he'd had no idea what it was to be. It was no surprise to learn that every single one of his classmates had done likewise.
After that all leave had been cancelled. No communications with the outside world was permitted and not a word was spoken about what lay ahead until they had reached King's Cross this morning. Once there, the Minister himself had informed them what was going on. The news had been greeted soberly. Despite this, however, not a single trainee had opted out when given the chance. It was just not the done thing in such circumstances. It was with a large degree of pride that he had donned an official Auror uniform - something he had been working to achieve for years.
Stephen finished drying his hands and - conscientiously as ever - began one final pre-mission check. He went through the motions with a routine that he had learned whilst in training. Satisfied that he had everything he needed, he left the bathroom and returned to his compartment, nodding to his colleagues as he sat down. He was confident that he was as ready as it was possible to be.
There was one thing Stephen had forgotten to do, however. He had omitted to take his hourly dose of the Polyjuice potion he had been handed when boarding the train.
*************
*a/n I wish I could claim this particular observation as my own, but it is actually a line from the book 'Going Postal' by the great Terry Pratchett. If you have not read Pratchett before, I suggest that you do as you are depriving yourselves of many hours of delightful reading.