Chapter 4 - Meetings and Mayhem
Friday 1st August 1997
Harry sat at the kitchen table and tried to rouse himself to face the new day. Molly had insisted that everyone rise early today as this was the last opportunity to finalise the preparations for the wedding. As a result, he was surrounded by a number of bleary eyed Weasleys as he enjoyed his breakfast. And a bright eyed Hermione of course. It irked him sometimes that she could be so full of life at such an ungodly hour.
He had taken a bit of stick from the others over the article in the Daily Prophet. It was good natured teasing, to be fair, as they all knew his feelings on unwanted publicity. Nevertheless, it was not the best way to start the day.
His musings were interrupted abruptly by the sudden knocking on the front door. This in itself was cause for surprise, as anyone who frequented the Burrow regularly knew that no one ever used the front door; the kitchen door was the usual means of entry for everyone. Harry glanced over to Arthur, who seemed a little perturbed by the sudden intrusion. Indeed, such was his delayed reaction that it took a second bout of hammering on the door before he finally rose to open it. He approached it with a seemingly nonchalant air, but Harry, who had followed discreetly with a few of the others, noticed that his wand was held tightly in his right hand.
He opened the door and frowned in concentration at the person before him. It was obvious to Harry that Arthur knew the face, but couldn't quite put a name to it.
'Hello, Arthur,' said the man in a soft Scottish accent. 'You probably don't remember me, but we crossed paths on one of your raids a few years ago. My name is Walsh - James Walsh. I work in the Auror Division.'
Arthur's face brightened a moment as the recognition kicked in. It was clear that he had dealt with the man before. His expression changed back to its original stern look however, as he contemplated the man in front of him.
'I do remember you, Mr Walsh. A close confidante of the Minister, are you not? What can I do for you?' he asked. It was said politely, but there was a hint of steel in Arthur's tone.
'I understand that Harry Potter is living here at the moment. Might it be possible for me to come in? I have a letter that I must deliver to him,' replied the Auror.
Arthur's expression, which had been quite frosty to begin with, now turned positively Arctic.
'If you could hand the letter to me, I will make sure that Harry gets it,' he said.
'Sorry, but I have instructions to both hand it personally to Mr Potter, and to await a reply. It won't take a moment. May I come in?'
Arthur hesitated a moment. Casting a quick glance to the others, he noticed with satisfaction that virtually everyone had put their wands within easy reach, and were sitting ready. He turned back to the visitor.
'Of course,' he smiled. 'Come in. Harry was just having his breakfast. I'm sure he will be happy to see you.'
Walsh entered the house and proceeded to look around for Harry. He was a tall man of about fifty; well built and with dark hair and eyes. His features were hard and he had one or two visible scars on his face - presumably mementoes of previous battles. His eyes alighted on Harry and he smiled. The effect was startling and seemed to take about 10 years off his age.
'Mr Potter? How do you do?' he extended his hand in greeting, an offer that Harry accepted cautiously. 'I have here a letter from the Minister of Magic that I have been instructed to deliver to you personally. I hope you don't mind, but I have been instructed to await a reply from you.' As he said this, he removed a brown envelope from his robes and handed it to Harry, who took it with a great degree of suspicion.
What did Scrimgeour want now? Harry was tempted to refuse to read the letter, but his innate good manners prevailed and he carefully opened the envelope.
'Excuse me a moment,' he said to the room at large as he sat down and began to read.
Dear Harry,
First of all, allow me to thank you for taking the time to read this. I know you do not have a particularly high opinion of me or my Ministry, so I am grateful you were able to see past this.
It is about our current relations that I am writing to you. I know that we have not been on the most agreeable of terms recently and I am well aware that the fault for this lies largely with me. Allow me to apologise. I hope that you will be able to give me the chance to make amends for any offence I have caused you in the past.
The death of Albus has had a profound effect on us all, not least on me, who considered him a friend, despite our differences. I am sure you are aware that the main cause of my recent dispute with Albus was about you; and of my intentions towards you. I am only sorry that I was not able to reconcile with him before his death. It is for this reason that I hope to reach an understanding with you. The enemy grows ever stronger and we must work together if we are to achieve victory in this struggle.
In view of this, I am proposing that we meet to discuss possible ways of assisting each other. Please be assured that I offer this with no conditions. I do not expect you to endorse my Ministry, nor do I intend to make our meeting public knowledge, unless you desire to do so. The agenda will be yours, Harry. I know you may not trust me, but I implore you to put past differences aside for the sake of the common cause. I give you my word that I will not attempt to use you or your name for any political gain.
If you think you can put past differences aside and agree to my proposal, please let James know as soon as you can. I would like to meet at your earliest convenience - indeed I propose we meet tonight if possible. If you agree, James will notify you of the location.
Please consider my offer carefully, and accept once more my oath that I have no motive for wanting this meeting other than the defeat of Voldemort.
With regards
Rufus
Harry finished reading the letter and placed it on his lap. He did not know what to think. He thought of his last encounter with Scrimgeour after the funeral, and the anger began to rise within him. The man had some nerve, approaching him like this! After all he had tried to get Harry to do - to be his poster boy no less - he now had the gall to propose a meeting! He was about to rise and flatly refuse the offer, but he suddenly remembered the letter he had received from Dumbledore. The letter that had urged him to seek the help of the Ministry. Harry did not know what to do. He looked up and realised that everyone was watching him in anticipation. He came to a decision.
'Mr Walsh? Would you mind excusing me for a few moments? I would like to discuss this matter with some of my friends here. I'm sure Mrs Weasley will offer you a cup of tea and some breakfast if you wish. I will not be long.' Without waiting for a reply he turned to the others.
'Ron? Hermione? Would you come next door with me please?' he hesitated a moment before continuing. 'You too, Mr Weasley, if you don't mind. I would value your opinion.'
Arthur seemed surprised, but recovered quickly. 'Of course, Harry. Mr Walsh? Please excuse us,' he said, before leading the three friends into the next room.
Once Harry had closed the door behind them he turned to the others. Rather than beginning a long explanation, he handed the letter to Arthur, who began to read; Ron and Hermione doing likewise over his shoulders. Harry paced the room impatiently, waiting for them to finish.
'Well, Harry,' began Arthur, once he had finished, 'I don't know what to say. The request seems reasonable enough - it's just a question of whether you trust him or not. For what its worth; whilst I haven't always seen eye to eye with Rufus, I have always found him to be a man of his word. Of course, I do not know what help he may be able to offer, or indeed what help you may want from the Ministry. That of course is something for you to decide.'
Harry looked at his two friends, a question on his face.
'I agree, Harry' said Ron. 'Scrimgeour has been a bit of a pain in the arse recently, but if you think the offer may be genuine, then he could probably help us.'
'Hermione?'
'I'm not sure, Harry.' She looked thoughtful, and cast a glance at Arthur before continuing. 'I mean, how much would you be willing to tell him? How much assistance could he actually give us? Of course, it might be worth agreeing to see him just to see what he has to say for himself. If it's just the same old tripe then you can tell him to back off.'
Harry nodded thoughtfully, glad he had decided to ask his friends before making any rash decisions.
'I agree. It probably won't hurt to see him again. But his attitude had better improve if he wants me to remain civil to him.' He turned to Arthur. 'Mr Weasley? Do you think you could ask Mr Walsh to come through?'
Arthur nodded his assent and left the room. A few moments later he returned with James Walsh. Harry began without preamble.
'Mr Walsh? You may inform the Minister that I agree to his request. I am quite willing to meet him to hear his proposals.'
James nodded in acknowledgment. 'The Minister will be glad to hear this, Mr Potter. I will notify him immediately.'
'He said in his letter that you would inform me of the arrangements for the meeting if I agreed,' said Harry.
'Yes, he instructed me to do so. He proposes to meet tonight at seven-thirty in the Shrieking Shack.' Harry raised an eyebrow at this. 'A strange meeting place, I admit,' continued James, 'but one that will not attract attention. The Minister does not want this meeting to be public.'
'In that case I agree,' replied Harry. 'I will admit that the meeting place inspires confidence that the Minister is true to his word. A more unlikely location would be hard to find. Please tell him that I will be there at seven-thirty.' He was aware that he was sounding very formal and pompous, and also noticed that Ron was aware of this too, judging by the repressed snickers. He struggled to maintain his composure.
James nodded in acceptance. 'Thank you, Mr Potter. I will pass on your reply immediately. The Minister will see you tonight.' He turned to Arthur. 'Please thank your wife for the hospitality. Good day to you all.'
He turned to leave and Arthur hastily followed to escort him to the door. Once they had gone, Harry turned to the others.
'Come on you two - we have a lot to discuss,' he said, before leading them up the stairs to Ron's room.
***********
Severus Snape stood in the middle of a thick bush in the forest, a mere thirty yards from the Shrieking Shack, and wondered if his life could get any worse. It was six-thirty and he and a group of ten Death Eaters were concealed at various locations around the Shack. He had laid his plans before Voldemort and the Dark Lord had approved, making only one or two minor alterations. Voldemort himself would be joining them soon once the time for the meeting was reached. Everything was set.
For about the thousandth time since being given the mission, he cursed Scrimgeour's stupidity. He had always respected the ex-Auror as a man who made few mistakes, but he now believed that politics had affected the man's judgement. The Minister clearly thought he was being clever by arranging to meet Potter in such an obscure location, but he obviously did not realise that it was never a good idea to be without a plan B. The security for this meeting depended entirely on the location being kept a secret. Once that secrecy was blown, the location was extremely vulnerable to attack - as Scrimgeour would soon find out.
Snape knew that Scrimgeour had opted for secrecy as a political consideration. If he had made public his desire for a meeting and Potter had refused with his usual arrogance, then the Minister would have been open to ridicule. Better that that death though. Snape knew that if he had been in the same situation, he would have made the meeting as public as possible and would have surrounded the location with every available Auror in the country. He would also have held it in a much safer location; beyond the reach of the Dark Lord. Patagonia, perhaps. Or Antarctica.
He had been required to be at his most cunning in order to obey Voldemort, and yet leave room for the mission's failure. He had originally considered not informing Voldemort of the meeting, but he had learned that the source had also informed Bella. After discovering that, there was no question of saying nothing. Instead, he had placed a flaw in the plan that he hoped would prove sufficient.
His train of thought was disturbed by a sudden noise coming from the trees about twenty yards to his left. That will be the flaw, he thought ruefully. He had deliberately included a young, incompetent Death Eater in his plans - he just hoped the boy could live up to his lack of expectation. If not, he would have to 'help' the youngster to commit some blunder. He would have to be extremely subtle however; the merest hint of his sabotage would mean his death. For now, all he could do was wait and hope that things turned out to his satisfaction. He glanced around to check the location of his colleagues and noted that they were all well concealed - even Draco. The boy had been very subdued since Dumbledore's death and Snape had hardly seen anything of him. He knew that Draco was just trying to stay out of the Dark Lord's way in an attempt to go unnoticed, but he was also aware that such a strategy was futile. The Dark Lord forgot nothing, and Draco would find this out sooner or later - to his cost, if he were not careful.
With a deep sigh, Snape returned to his watch, hoping for once that his planning would not lead to success.
************
Twenty yards away from his former Potions professor, Draco Malfoy lay hidden behind the long grass that was a feature of the forest edge and considered his options. He had not been the same person since that fateful night on the Astronomy Tower and he was still struggling to come to terms with events. He had discovered - to his relief if he was honest with himself - that he was not cut out to be a murderer. He knew he was no angel - indeed there were depths to which he would plumb - but it seemed that murder was not one of them. Dumbledore had been correct in his assertion; he was not a killer.
Which left him with a problem, he knew. The Dark Lord still numbered him amongst his Death Eaters, but it would not be long before his true nature won out. What he would do when asked to kill again he did not know. He did know that the Dark Lord would kill him if he failed him again though. The only reason he was still alive at the moment was because Snape had killed the Headmaster after he had failed to do so. It had been his plan that had breached the school defences and it was made clear to him that this had proven sufficient to spare him. He knew that there would be no second chance.
He had no one to confide in though, and this was his great dilemma. Speaking to his father was, of course, out of the question. His father was still numbered among the Dark Lord's leading servants, although his prestige was somewhat tarnished these days. At least this now meant that he did not strut around as if he owned the place.
His mother had been another matter however. He had tentatively broached the subject with her and could have sworn he detected a hint of sympathy in her eyes. This is the life we have chosen, Draco, and there is no going back. One does not resign from serving the Dark Lord, was all she'd had to say on the matter. Which was no use at all.
And now here he was on another mission of murder. Thankfully there were enough attackers present for him to take a back seat. He would not have to kill today; indeed, they were queuing up to be the one that fired this particular killing curse.
Potter.
He despised Potter more than any person alive, save one, but he knew that he still didn't want to be the one to kill him. Indeed, if he were honest with himself, he didn't actually want Potter to die. This realisation - which he had come to some weeks ago - had shaken him to the core. The reason that he wanted Potter to live was simple; he seemed to be the only one who had a chance to defeat the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord was the person he despised more than any other. And until he was defeated, Draco would never be free.
So whilst privately willing Potter to escape the ambush, Draco nonetheless kept perfectly hidden and prepared to do his master's bidding. He did not want Potter to die, but feared the consequences of failure more. He knew that he would just have to play along until his chance came.
If it ever came.
********
Harry paced the floor of the Shrieking Shack and tried to run over in his head what he would say to the Minister. He glanced at his watch; seven-twenty, still ten minutes to go. He'd had a lengthy discussion with Ron and Hermione that afternoon and had gone over a number of things he had originally wanted to keep to himself until after the wedding. He had shown them the letter from Dumbledore urging him to meet with Rufus and this fact seemed to have fully convinced Hermione.
'Dumbledore must have known something, Harry. He wouldn't have asked you to trust Scrimgeour unless he believed he could help you.' She had paused for a moment before continuing. 'Just how much are you intending to tell him?'
'As little as possible,' Harry had replied. 'Nothing about the Horcruxes anyway. Or the Order for that matter. In fact, I'm telling him nothing. I'm meeting him more out of curiosity than anything else. I have been wondering if he has anything new to say to me.'
That little thought had been niggling at Harry all afternoon. What could Scrimgeour possibly have to say to him that he had not already broached in previous encounters? Harry did not like the man; he found him arrogant and stubborn. It occurred to him that perhaps they were too alike to get on with each other.
He smiled at the thought, but his reflections were interrupted by a quiet pop and a scuffling sound from behind him. Turning to face the noise, Harry raised his wand, aware that whoever it was had arrived early, but was relieved to see that only the Minister stood before him. He relaxed, but did not fully lower his wand. Instead, the two men stood looking at one another. Finally, Rufus broke the silence.
'Thank you for agreeing to see me, Harry. I appreciate it could not have been an easy decision for you.'
Harry merely nodded in response, before peering behind the Minister to see if anyone else was there.
'Are we alone?' he asked.
'Yes, Harry, we are. No one here but the two of us. I have instructed my personal guard to remain in Hogsmeade.'
Harry nodded in appreciation. He finally lowered his wand and looked Rufus in the eye.
'So, Minister, how can I help you?' he asked.
Rufus did not respond immediately. Instead he walked over and sat down in a chair next to a small table. There was a second chair facing it and it occurred to Harry that they must have been placed here earlier today. Rufus indicated that Harry should take the other seat, which he did. Then, after a moment's hesitation, the older man reached into his inside pocket and removed a letter. He considered it carefully for a few seconds before handing it to Harry.
Harry recognised the writing paper immediately. His thoughts racing, he opened the envelope and had his suspicions confirmed when he saw the familiar sloping handwriting of his old Headmaster. He looked up at Scrimgeour, seeking permission and the man nodded his approval. With a shaking hand, Harry began to read the letter.
Once he had finished he leaned back in his chair and looked directly at the Minister. He was at a complete loss for words, so in response, he reached into his pocket and produced his own letter from Dumbledore. He carefully placed both letters on the table.
Rufus nodded, as if expecting exactly this. 'Might I enquire as to the contents of your letter, Harry?'
'Not the details, but the gist of it states that I should seek you out and request your help.' He paused for a moment, the implications beginning to sink in. 'Isn't it remarkable that Dumbledore can still manipulate us? Even from the grave?'
Rufus smiled at this. 'Dumbledore was a remarkable man, Harry. I should think that nothing is beyond him. So the question now facing us is whether or not you want my help?'
Harry carefully lifted his letter from the table, the action giving him some time to frame his response. 'What's in it for you? What do you want in return?' he finally asked.
'Nothing. This is a no strings offer, Harry.'
Harry arched his eyebrows in disbelief. 'Why should I believe that? You have been trying to get me to support the Ministry for a while now. What's changed your mind?'
'Dumbledore's death changed my mind, Harry. Whether you accept my help or not all comes down to whether you choose to believe me, so allow me to explain a few things to you. It is true that I did not always see eye to eye with Albus, particularly where you were concerned. He was fiercely protective of you and was always looking out for you. I hope you are aware of that?'
Harry nodded.
'That's good to know. Anyway, despite this, I always had the utmost respect for Albus. He taught me too and I consider him to be the finest wizard I ever knew. It is true that he disagreed with many of my policies - I shudder to think of what he would have made of the emergency powers - but ultimately we were on the same side. He has made a last request of me, Harry; I'd like to think that I was enough of a man to carry out such a request,' he concluded simply.
'He's not the only one that disagreed with your policies. You can count me amongst that group too. It's why I have always refused to co-operate with you in the past. The Ministry has hardly made things easy for me.'
'I know and I'm sorry. Will you let me make amends now?'
'I don't know. I still disagree with what you are doing. Why restrict freedoms? Why execute people? It's wrong.'
Rufus sighed. 'If it makes you feel any better, I am not too comfortable about the situation myself. But things are rarely as simple as just being right or wrong.'
'Yes they are. Dumbledore taught me that.'
'Dumbledore was unique, Harry, and for all his power he never took on the responsibility of office. The world is not black and white; it's more of a shade of grey. Sometimes the choice open to us is merely the lesser of two evils. I had a decision to make - either I continued as we were following a policy that would almost certainly lead us to defeat, or I introduced changes that would at least give us a chance. I don't like the restrictions any more than you do, but the difference is that if I am wrong we could lose everything. It is easy to criticise when you have no responsibility. Dumbledore taught me that. It was not a decision taken lightly, I can assure you. Now, can you put that aside and allow me to help you?'
Harry looked the older man directly in the eye. It occurred to him that there were many reasons to decline the offer, but one very good reason for accepting. Dumbledore wanted him to do this.
'Yes,' he said, 'but only on certain conditions.'
'What conditions?'
'That you don't ask me what I am doing. That you give me what you ask for, if you can, without trying to find out what I am up to. If I am successful, then you will be amongst the first to know. If you don't agree, or go back on your word then I am gone.'
Rufus considered this for a moment. 'I think I can agree to that request. What do you need?'
Harry had been thinking about that since he had read Scrimgeour's letter that morning. 'I need to disappear.'
'Disappear?'
'Yes. There is something I must do. Something Dumbledore asked me to do. A last request, if you will. But in order to have a chance I must be able to act without interference from Voldemort's forces. I will not be returning to Hogwarts next term, but as soon as my absence is noted, Voldemort will be after me. In the meantime, I am worried that he might attack the Burrow in order to get to me and I don't want my friends put in danger. I have been thinking about this all summer but I still haven't come up with a solution.'
Rufus looked thoughtful for a moment. 'It would be impossible to make you disappear, Harry, you are too well known for that. I could provide you with a safe house but that would not stop people looking for you and the press would constantly speculate on your whereabouts. I can only control them so much.'
'So we are snookered then?' asked Harry. 'If I go back to school I can't achieve anything. If I go missing then…' Harry stopped in mid-sentence as two things happened almost at once. A sudden, loud crash could be heard from outside; then his scar started to irritate him. His eyes widened as he watched the Minister rise from his seat and raise his hand.
'Quiet!' hissed Rufus. 'Someone is outside.'
The two men gingerly made their way to a crack in the side of the Shack in order to peer into the evening light. Dark figures could be seen approaching from the trees.
'Can you Apparate Harry?' asked Rufus quietly.
Harry nodded, and watched as Rufus concentrated a moment before looking suddenly grave.
'Anti-Apparition charm,' whispered the ex-Auror. 'Someone knows we are here.' He looked quite calm as he considered his options. Suddenly, a muffled voice could be heard and with a loud crash, the two men were blasted back ten feet into the table and chairs they were sitting at a few moments before. Both rose to their feet, shaken, but otherwise unharmed. Harry clutched his wand and prepared to fight this unseen foe.
'It's Voldemort!' he exclaimed. 'I can feel him.'
'No good, Harry,' said Rufus as he pulled Harry's wand hand down. 'There's at least a dozen of them, and if Voldemort is here, we have no chance.'
Harry ignored Rufus and crawled back towards the crack in the wall - which had now been widened considerably to a hole of about three feet - and peered out.
'They're coming. We have to get out of here. Harry! Come here, right now. Move!' shouted Rufus.
Harry scrambled over to Rufus, wondering what the man had in mind. His scar was really beginning to hurt now and he tried to concentrate on closing his mind. He had no idea what they were going to do. He could hear someone shouting from outside but could not make out a word as his ears were still ringing from the blast. He looked at Rufus who appeared to come to a decision.
'Sukey!' exclaimed Rufus. Suddenly, with a loud pop, a small house elf appeared in their midst. She was dressed - as many of her kind - in a ragtag collection of tea-towels and pillowcases and her eyes widened as she took in the scene. She was smaller than Dobby, but slightly rounder.
'Sukey, take us to my office. Now! Right now!'
Sukey did not hesitate, and Harry felt his arm being grabbed by the little elf. Just as they were about to Apparate, he heard another muffled curse from outside and suddenly the whole building seemed to be coming in around them. As he began to sense the familiar pull of Apparition, he felt a searing heat on his face and raised his arm to protect himself before the darkness enveloped him.
*********
Severus Snape checked his watch; seven-thirty two. They should both be in the Shack now and it was time to launch the attack. The Dark Lord had arrived a few moments before and was now in command of the operation. Snape just hoped that Scrimgeour had not lost all of his wits. He knew he could not rely on Potter's luck. Instead, the survival instincts of the old Auror were all he had to go on.
He glanced over to his lord and saw him give a small nod of confirmation. Creeping silently from his hideout, he gestured with his right arm for the others to advance. He glanced over to where Marcus Flint was emerging from his concealment. One, two three…
CRASH!
Exactly as planned, the idiot boy stumbled on a tree root that Snape had noticed on arrival. It was perfectly positioned; partly concealed and right in front of a pile of deadwood. Snape had made sure that the boy had been placed exactly behind the obstacle as he knew that the young fool would do exactly as he had just done. Tripped on the root and crashed into the deadwood with enough noise to awaken the dead. Snape was aware that Potter could sense the Dark Lord when he was feeling strong emotions. His plan had been to anger his master and so alert Potter to his presence. If it did not work then at least Scrimgeour would have a warning now as a result of the noise. It was not much, but the best he could improvise under the circumstances.
He scurried over to Flint and helped him to his feet. 'Idiot boy!' he hissed. 'They will have heard you.'
He turned to his right as he heard Bella utter a curse and blast a hole in the side of the shack. From his position he was concealed by the foliage and once the smoke had cleared could see right into the Shack. He noticed Potter peer out of the hole and turn to speak to (he presumed) Scrimgeour. He turned to his right again as he watched the Dark Lord advance. Get out you fools. Get out.
'Potter!' roared Voldemort. 'Your death is sixteen years overdue! You are soon to discover what fate awaits those who dare to challenge the might of Lord Voldemort!' The Dark Lord seemed to consider his options for a moment. Snape turned back to the Shack.
Thank Merlin, he thought, as he noticed the presence of a small house elf through the smouldering hole. He watched as the elf took Potter and Scrimgeour in her arms just as the Dark Lord cast his final curse. Transfixed, Snape could see the red streak fly towards the shack and, just as it impacted with devastating results, he lost sight of the three shadowy figures. He had no time to confirm if they had escaped in time as the Shack was blasted into pieces and he threw himself to the ground to avoid the worst of the impact.
He still kept the presence of mind to place the trembling form of Marcus Flint between himself and the shockwave.
***********
Hermione stood in a small clearing in some trees about a quarter of a mile from the Shrieking Shack and worried about Harry. She was accompanied by Ron, Lupin and Moody in her vigil but no one seemed inclined to break the silence that had descended upon them since arriving over an hour ago. She had originally wanted to accompany Harry to the meeting, but he had been adamant that he go alone. Scrimgeour had wanted to meet with him and he thought that it was best if there were no distractions.
So she had insisted on at least accompanying him to Hogsmeade. He had not demurred but had himself insisted that she not go alone, with the upshot being this small 'guard' that stood waiting impatiently in the woods. Moody had picked the spot after Hermione had originally suggested waiting in the village.
'Constant Vigilance!' the old Auror had barked at her suggestion. 'This is a secret meeting, so we must remain hidden. Besides, if anyone intends to gatecrash this particular party, it would be best if they did not know we were here.'
Hermione had conceded the logic so now waited in the woods. She looked at her watch; seven thirty three. Scrimgeour should have arrived by now. She turned to speak to Ron but froze suddenly on the spot. She had a sudden, dreadful sense of foreboding.
'I think something's wrong!' she hissed. 'Harry could be in trouble.'
It was at this moment that a loud crash could be heard from the direction of the Shack. All four heads turned to the source of the noise and saw with horror a black robed figure being helped to his feet by another, similarly clad person.
'That's Snape!' hissed Lupin. 'I'd recognise that scumbag anywhere.'
Hermione felt her heart in her mouth as she counted at least a dozen Death Eaters advancing on the Shack. She recognised one of them as Draco Malfoy and she felt the rage well up inside her. Then she saw one of them let off a blasting curse and she watched in horror as it struck the wall and the building shook at the impact. She tried to Apparate up the hill but couldn't.
'They must have set Anti-Apparition wards!' she exclaimed. 'I can't get up there!' She made to charge up the hill towards the Shack but was stopped by a vice like grip on her cloak.
'Let me go!' she screamed as she turned to face the coward who was preventing her from helping Harry. She realised that it was Moody who held her back and that with his other hand he was desperately trying to stop Ron and Lupin too.
'No!' he hissed at the three of them. 'Look; it's Voldemort. We cannot attack. We will be slaughtered. There is too many of them and we will not cover the distance in time. They will pick us off before we get near them. We have to get help.'
'But Harry needs us!' pleaded Hermione. 'We can't leave him up there to die. We have to help him.'
'Getting yourself killed on a fool's errand will not help Harry. This is not the time for gestures, and that is all your death will be if you try to attack now. You might even provoke Harry into a mistake by trying to save you, because that is what you will need if you attack - saving. We must hope that Harry can get out without us. Now, come on! We have to get help. There will be Aurors around somewhere - Scrimgeour will not have come alone.'
Hermione made to retort scathingly but her attention was diverted as Voldemort himself approached the Shack. He paused ominously for a moment as if considering his options. Then, with a sudden flourish, a jet of red light streaked from his wand and crashed into the side of the Shack. The impact was devastating - with a boom that could be heard for miles the shack was blown to pieces and was engulfed in a fireball.
Hermione screamed as she watched the still smoking debris fall to the ground.