Divided and Entwined (Harry Potter AU) (Complete)

[Ack]

So how much effort would it be to set up wards with some sort of attached spell so that when they go down, it sets off a series of Claymores, all facing outward?

 

[Starfox5]

So how much effort would it be to set up wards with some sort of attached spell so that when they go down, it sets off a series of Claymores, all facing outward?

Click to shrink...

A lot. Interfacing magic and technology is difficult, outside jury-rigged brute force stuff. Not the thing you want to do around mines - especially around places you or civilians might wander around.

 

[Ack]

A lot. Interfacing magic and technology is difficult, outside jury-rigged brute force stuff. Not the thing you want to do around mines - especially around places you or civilians might wander around.

Click to shrink...

Actually ... how about this.

A set of Claymores just outside the wards, facing outward. They've got a radio receiver, waiting on the detonation signal.

Inside the wards, you have a radio transmitter which is switched on. In the normal state of affairs, it would be sending out the detonation signal. But the wards are interfering with it, so that either the transmitter isn't working at all, or the signal isn't getting through.

But when the wards come down, no more interference, and boom.

 

[Starfox5]

Actually ... how about this.

A set of Claymores just outside the wards, facing outward. They've got a radio receiver, waiting on the detonation signal.

Inside the wards, you have a radio transmitter which is switched on. In the normal state of affairs, it would be sending out the detonation signal. But the wards are interfering with it, so that either the transmitter isn't working at all, or the signal isn't getting through.

But when the wards come down, no more interference, and boom.

Click to shrink...

Outside the wards means that muggles could find them. And an automated "wipe out everything nearby" trap is not something Hermione would condone installing without safeguards preventing innocent victims.

 

[qof]

Actually ... how about this.

A set of Claymores just outside the wards, facing outward. They've got a radio receiver, waiting on the detonation signal.

Inside the wards, you have a radio transmitter which is switched on. In the normal state of affairs, it would be sending out the detonation signal. But the wards are interfering with it, so that either the transmitter isn't working at all, or the signal isn't getting through.

But when the wards come down, no more interference, and boom.

Click to shrink...

Careful Ack, for magic and technology are both overpowered. Optimize too much and both DMs and authors cry .

 

[Ack]

Outside the wards means that muggles could find them. And an automated "wipe out everything nearby" trap is not something Hermione would condone installing without safeguards preventing innocent victims.

Click to shrink...

Muggle Repelling Charm. Done.

I just like the idea of a Curse-Breaker carefully taking the Wards down. And then all the Claymores go 'click'.

Curse-Breaker: "What was that?"

BOOOOOM

 

[Starfox5]

Muggle Repelling Charm. Done.

I just like the idea of a Curse-Breaker carefully taking the Wards down. And then all the Claymores go 'click'.

Curse-Breaker: "What was that?"

BOOOOOM

Click to shrink...

A permanent Muggle-Repelling Charm would fall under wards.

 

[Ack]

A permanent Muggle-Repelling Charm would fall under wards.

Click to shrink...

Ah. Okay.

A "Keep out" sign then

"Trespassers will be exploded."

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 21: End of a Line

'Pureblood supporters of the Dark Lord often accused the muggleborns of being ignorant of Wizarding Britain's culture. While, by and large, the muggleborns did not know the intricacies of pureblood society very well, they cannot be blamed for that. There was no course covering this topic at Hogwarts. The reasons given for this vary. Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black once said that it would be a waste of gold and time; muggleborns were neither inclined nor able to learn the sophisticated manners of purebloods.
Headmaster Armando Dippet did not share this opinion, but said that as children picked up how to act in polite society from their family, muggleborns would pick up how to comport themselves properly during their seven years at Hogwarts. And the most famous Headmaster of Hogwarts in the 20th century, Albus Dumbledore, was quoted as saying that he saw "no sense in trying to teach students the manners of people who would never accept them in the first place, nor in elevating the outdated attitudes and pretensions of a very small segment of the pureblood population into a course when the vast majority of the purebloods didn't act that differently". Sadly, that quote has never been properly dated, so we lack the context to interpret it properly.
However, it cannot be denied that even those purebloods Headmaster Dumbledore would not have counted as pretentious were ignorant of muggle culture. A weakness, as it was revealed, that would cost several of them dearly when they went to hide among muggles during the war.'
- Excerpt from 'Wizarding Britain in the 20th Century' by Albert Runcorn

*****​

Dorset, Britain, December 10th, 1996

"Justin! Ensure there is a perimeter! And take a headcount of all arrivals!" Hermione Granger said to the former Hufflepuff while she walked towards the trunk containing the wounded and the prisoners of the Resistance.

Aberforth and Sally-Anne had levitated the wounded out of the trunk, and laid them down on the ground nearby. Hermione winced at the sight. Dennis's arm and Colin's leg looked withered. They looked like dried leather wrapped around bones. The boys were trying to be brave, but she could see that both were shocked and horrified by this. Then Dennis started to sob, and Colin followed quickly.

"It's a dark curse," Aberforth said. "I stopped its progress, but I cannot heal the damage done."

Hermione closed her eyes for a second. They couldn't take the boys to St. Mungo's - they would be arrested at once. They could look for a Healer, maybe a muggleborn who had left Wizarding Britain. But… "Do you recognise it?"

The old wizard, still disguised, shook his head. "No. It must be an exotic or family curse."

Which meant there was no chance to find a counter-curse. If it was a dark curse, then there was no way to heal this anyway. The limbs would have to be amputated. She hissed through clenched teeth. She had thought that the two would be safe, watching the perimeter. That the Death Eaters would not rush in, not after the ambush during the attack on Rowle. She had been wrong, and the Creeveys had paid the price. "Please do what you can. We... they can decide what to do later." Maybe she could find a way to heal this damage… if she had the time to spend on research.

She stepped away, towards the wounded prisoners Sally-Anne was working on. Greengrass looked bad. Sally-Anne hadn't been able to close the hole in the girl's belly yet and was pouring a potion down the girl's throat. Davis was unconscious, but no longer bleeding out. Nott was unconscious, as was Malfoy, both sporting numerous wounds, but none of them looked life-threatening. She checked their restraints and added zip-ties. Just in case.

Sally-Anne was still working almost desperately, but it seemed that the wound was worse than what she could handle. For such a case, the Resistance had scouted out a small private muggle clinic. Its staff included former members of the British Army who could handle such wounds, and a Confundus would keep the police from being alerted. But to bring a prisoner there… she shook her head. If Greengrass didn't make it, then so be it. They already had taken a big risk trying to capture them.

They had Malfoy. That had been the priority. Anyone else was a bonus. Hermione wouldn't risk her friends further for a few junior Death Eaters.

A loud yell caught her attention, and she was crouching, her wand aimed, before she realised Seamus and Dean had announced their return. She felt relieved - they had taken longer than she had expected. Then she narrowed her eyes. What if… she strode towards them, wand still out. An Imperius would be fooled by her contract. They'd lose all memories of the Resistance. But Polyjuice… "Hold still!" she ordered, then threw some of the twins' concoction at their faces. They didn't change. She lowered her wand, noting that Justin and John did the same.

"We've not been compromised," Dean said, but he didn't complain - the Resistance knew they couldn't be too cautious.

Seamus grinned widely. "I dropped the second bomb, and it went off as planned! I'm certain half a dozen of the scum was caught in the blast!"

"Should teach them to attack us," Dean added.

"Hopefully," Hermione said. If the enemy was unpredictable, then that would make the war even worse. "I'll check on the prisoners, then we'll move."

Greengrass should have either been stabilised by now, or died. Either way, they could return to London.

Where they'd interrogate Malfoy and the rest. Hopefully their information was worth all of this.

*****​

London, Hampstead, December 10th, 1996

Albus Dumbledore was already sitting in a conjured armchair, waiting, when Miss Granger, Mister Finch-Fletchley and Aberforth arrived with Mister Malfoy.

"They caught Nott, Greengrass and Davis as well," Aberforth said, before Albus could ask, "but that's the only one with a Dark Mark."

Albus nodded. Malfoy was the only one they had to hurry to interrogate then. They still did not know all that Voldemort could use his mark for, and even if no interrogation so far had been interrupted by the Dark Lord, it still was prudent to be both quick and cautious about it.

Miss Granger levitated the unconscious wizard to the chair Albus had set up in the centre of the room. He noticed when she dispelled the magical bonds that she had also secured Mister Malfoy's hands using muggle means - and used those to fix his arms and legs to the chair. Albus approved of such precautions.

"Two of them were struck with a dark curse," Aberforth continued, "the limbs that were hit look as if they had withered - dry, and thin, barely more than skin and bones, and the skin looks like old leather."

Albus ignored the wince from Mister Finch-Fletchley, and the way Miss Granger focused a bit too much on securing the prisoner. He nodded. "I think I have seen such a curse before. It was cast by a Caribbean wizard. I will search my library for a counter-curse."

When Albus saw the smiles on the two muggleborns' faces, he had to struggle to keep smiling himself - he doubted he'd find a counter-curse. That curse he remembered had been cast by a houngan, and they were notoriously secretive. And despised the British wizards.

"Please do," Miss Granger said. "Dennis and Colin were guarding our flank, and when they moved to our rally spot, they were attacked from the air. I underestimated the Death Eaters. I didn't expect them to rush at us on brooms."

Albus hid his reaction. The Creevey brothers. Those were the two youngest members of the Resistance. Children. And they had been struck… He smiled at the young witch, barely more than a child herself. "It is as likely that you might have overestimated them - the Death Eaters are often quite reckless, and even foolish."

"Either way, it's my fault." Miss Granger frowned.

"Hogwash!" Aberforth cut in. "You had a sound plan. As good as anything we thought up. Things went awry, that's all."

Albus nodded. "Indeed. The best plans can be wrecked due to simple bad luck." His own plans had suffered that fate more than once. "Please do not blame yourself for something you could not prevent."

The witch nodded, but Albus doubted that she would heed his advice. He would have to speak with Harry and Mister Weasley, and mention that their friend was in need of some comfort.

He looked at the prisoner, then cast a spell. The wizard was hurt, but the worst of his wounds had been treated. He was in no danger of dying - at least not from his wounds.

"The others are in worse shape," Mister Finch-Fletchley said. "Greengrass almost died. She should be stable now."

Meaning, she could still die. Albus smiled. "I am certain you all did what you could. We're at war, and our friends and allies come first." He still hoped that the Weasley twins would be able to interrogate Miss Greengrass as well as Miss Davis. That should give them some form of closure, at least.

He turned towards the prisoner once more. "Now, let us get started. I fear this will be a long night for us all."

*****​

"... and then the Dark Lord granted me his mark."

Hermione Granger closed her eyes. Malfoy's description of how he had earned his Dark Mark was sickening. She heard Justin mutter a curse under his breath. Her friend had been fingering his wand since Malfoy had started talking about the cruel murder he had committed in front of Voldemort. So had she. Aberforth was glaring at Malfoy. The Headmaster was the only one who had remained calm. To torture someone to death… At least they now knew how he had summoned the other Death Eaters.

"Do you feel any regret about what you have done?" Dumbledore asked, in a tone as if he was asking about the last Potions lesson.

"Yes."

What? Hermione blinked. Justin gasped. Was Malfoy...

"What do you regret?"

"That it was a muggle, and not a mudblood. I could as well have killed an animal, for all the good it did to our cause," Malfoy said.

Hermione ground her teeth. She should have known Malfoy would not regret anything. He had already told them about the other Death Eaters he knew, and what plans he had. Unfortunately, he didn't know where the Dark Lord was hiding - Voldemort summoned his followers to various locations, and Malfoy hadn't been to the same location more than once. Now the interrogation was just covering Malfoy's past, and thoughts. Interesting, in a sick way, but not crucial.

"Why did you join the Dark Lord?" Dumbledore asked.

"To kill mudbloods. To avenge my parents. To protect purebloods from blood traitors and mudbloods."

"Did you send Miss Greengrass to attack the Gryffindor third years?"

"Yes."

"Did you hope that there would be deaths as a result of the attack?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"The blood traitors and mudbloods tried to kill us. They deserve to die."

Dumbledore nodded, as if he had expected that. Hermione frowned. The Death Eaters had started this. They had struck first, depriving the muggleborns of their rights, and preparing to murder them.

"Did you consider the effect such an act would have on the young Miss Greengrass? How do you think she would have been feeling, if she had actually killed those children?"

"She'd have been proud for defending our country and avenging her parents."

Dear lord! This was worse than Hermione had expected. Malfoy was a true believer. He honestly thought that murdering muggleborns was the right thing to do! She glared at Malfoy. The witch longed to ask a few questions of her own, but she wouldn't interrupt the Headmaster. And certainly not simply to satisfy her curiosity.

"Was that the reason you formed your group?"

"Yes. Someone had to do something about those beasts. We had to protect ourselves, and our families."

"Did you have any plans to attack muggleborns before your parents were killed?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"To teach them their place. They should serve their betters. Uppity mudbloods need to be dealt with, before others follow their example." Malfoy's scorn was audible even through the haze Veritaserum had put him in.

Hermione really wanted to know what Malfoy thought of her, but asking that felt petty. Frivolous even. She was better than that.

"Did you really hope that Slytherin's monster would kill all muggleborn students, in your second year?"

"Yes."

"Would you have killed them yourself, given the chance to?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I was weak, then. A mere child."

Dumbledore sighed and cast a Silencing Charm on Malfoy.

"That… that monster!" Justin exclaimed. "He hoped we'd die to the basilisk!"

Hermione nodded. "Too much of a coward to do the deed himself, he hoped a monster would do it for him." She sneered. "That's typical for Malfoy!"

"He's his parents' son," Aberforth said. "Lucius preferred to have others do his dirty work."

"While I cannot deny that the parallels are obvious, a child is not a mere extension of their parents. Even pureblood wizards and witches like Mister Malfoy spend seven years at Hogwarts, surrounded by half-bloods, muggleborns and other purebloods who do not share their views," Dumbledore said. "He had ample opportunities to make up his mind, to judge for himself what he believed in and to choose his own path. He decided to eagerly follow in his father's footsteps. He has no one to blame for his fate but himself." Dumbledore rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We all heard him confess to murder, to planning more murders, and to supporting the Dark Lord in his attempt to take over Britain and murder all muggleborns. We know we cannot bring him to justice by handing him over to the Ministry; the Wizengamot would not convict him."

Hermione knew all of that already. "We'll execute him." As she had promised her friends.

*****​

London, Hampstead, December 11th, 1996

"Six o'clock in the morning," Hermione Granger mumbled. "Almost a traditional time for an execution."

In front of her, Seamus and Dean were busy checking the gallows they had conjured. Hermione would have been fine with simply cutting the wizard's throat while he was strapped to the chair, but the rest of the Resistance wanted to make this as formal and as muggle as possible. Criminals like Malfoy were to be hanged.

The two boys had gone all out - they had created a hole in the floor, down to the basement, for the drop, before conjuring the gallows itself. Hermione wondered if they had calculated the length of the rope, so Malfoy's neck would be broken. She hadn't asked. Malfoy would be dying today, one way or the other. And she was rather tired. She could take a Pepper-Up Potion, but she was loath to use one without a real need. She just wanted this over with.

"Alright… let's test it!" Seamus said, tying a sand bag to the rope. "Ready!"

Dean pulled the lever, and the trapdoor opened. The bag fell down, and the rope jerked.

"Yes!" Seamus smiled. He turned to Hermione. "We're ready now!"

"Good." She gave him a brief nod, then left the room - the execution chamber, she corrected herself - to inform the rest of the Resistance and Aberforth. Dumbledore had left before the Resistance's arrival, but Aberforth's cover required him to stay.

Sally-Anne had stayed with the wounded Creeveys, and Mary and Tania had opted to guard them. Just in case. Which left John, Justin, Louise and Jeremy. The four of them were seated on conjured couches in the other room, all but Louise napping. "It's time," Hermione said.

"Finally!" the older witch said.

She probably would have preferred an simple Piercing Curse to the head as well, Hermione thought. While Louise prodded her partner awake, Hermione roused the rest. Then she followed the two former Hit-Wizards down to the basement, to the cells. Aberforth was there, watching both Malfoy's cell and the one in which the stunned other prisoners were locked up.

"You finished with your stage?" He said, sounding gruffer than she had heard him.

She was tempted to blame Dean and Seamus, but didn't. She was the leader; it was her responsibility. So she nodded. "Yes. Everything's ready. We're lacking a priest, but… I do not think Malfoy would appreciate one."

"The Malfoys have a reputation as being quite religious, despite their past and name," the disguised wizard said.

Hermione shrugged. "Ironic, given their name." She stepped to the door and opened it. "It's time."

Malfoy glared at her. His lips moved, but thanks to the Silencing Charm, she didn't hear a single word. She knew what he'd say anyway - mudblood this, the Dark Lord that. Predictable. Magical ropes bound him, in addition to the plastic bindings on his wrists. Hermione levitated him out of the cell, between Louise and Jeremy, then dispelled the ropes. The two grabbed Malfoy's arms, ignoring his brief struggle. Hermione led them upstairs.

When they entered the execution chamber and Malfoy saw the noose, he started to struggle in earnest. It didn't do him any good - a full Body-Bind Curse later, he was carried up the gallows, and held upright below the noose while his legs were fastened together. Hermione almost sighed when she climbed the gallows as well.

"Do you have any last words?" she asked Malfoy, before dispelling the spells holding him immobile and silent.

"Mudblood whore! Murderers! You'll all pay for this! The Dark Lord will kill you all! He'll make you beg for…"

She cut his tirade off with another Silencing Spell. He swayed, and would have fallen to the ground if Seamus hadn't held him. Dean pulled a hood over Malfoy's head, followed by the noose. Hermione climbed down, to stand next to Justin and Aberforth. She wished this was over already. It felt more like a spectacle than justice being served. And Dean and Seamus seemed to enjoy this a bit too much.

Malfoy was still struggling, moving his head under the hood. Pulling at the bindings on his wrists. He would be yelling as well, she thought. Maybe even crying - though he had been showing more composure than Hermione had expected of the git.

She took a deep breath, then started to speak. "Draco Malfoy, for murder and attempted murder, for willingly joining an organisation with the goal of murdering all muggleborns, and for several other crimes, you will be hanged from the neck until you die."

She nodded at Dean, who pulled the lever.

Draco fell. The rope snapped taut.

Hermione was glad that no one cheered.

*****​

London, Hampstead, December 11th, 1996

Not even thirty minutes after Malfoy's death, Hermione Granger was the only Resistance member left in the safe house Dumbledore had provided. The others had already gone back to their headquarters. She was alone with Aberforth. And with Malfoy's body, wrapped in conjured cloth, with the noose still around his neck.

"That was a spectacle," the old wizard said.

Hermione agreed with that, but she shrugged. She was the leader of the Resistance. "They were not too happy about all the secrecy. They needed to see Malfoy die with their own eyes."

"So they could take revenge?"

She shook her head, then pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. She made a mental note to cut her hair - it was growing too long again. "So they could see what they had fought for, what their friends had been hurt for: The death of a murderer who had wanted to kill all of them." Malfoy had been the most hated student at Hogwarts - doubly so among the muggleborns. "They wouldn't have accepted simply being told he was dead."

"You didn't need to make a production out of it."

"It was a symbolic act. A pureblood bigot, hanged like the common criminal he is. No magical act, just muggle justice being done." Even though the death penalty for murder had been abolished in 1965, treason still carried it - and the Death Eaters were traitors.

Aberforth scoffed. "They enjoyed killing him."

"Some may have," Hermione admitted. "But not all of them. And I think the whole execution impressed on everyone that this was a serious act."

"Maybe." Aberforth snorted. "Will you drop the body in Diagon Alley again?"

"Hogsmeade this time. We don't want to be too predictable." Hermione sighed. "I'll have to write up all his crimes. We'll broadcast them in two days, but I want a list stuck on his chest. So others understand why he was killed."

Aberforth remained silent for a few seconds, looking at her. "You want them to know why you killed Malfoy. What about why you fight?"

"People know why we fight: To defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters and to restore the rights of the muggleborns the Ministry has taken away," Hermione said. "And to ensure that this will never happen again." That had been written on most of their leaflets, after all.

"And how do you plan to achieve that?"

She knew he didn't mean the defeat of Voldemort. Or the restoring of their rights. She hesitated - she hadn't talked about this with others outside the Resistance - but then answered: "Wizarding Britain needs to be reformed. The system is the problem, not just, as some believe, individuals."

"The Wizengamot, you mean."

"Ultimately, most of the problems of the country can be traced back to the Wizengamot. A parliament and supreme court whose members have either inherited their seats, or are appointed by a man elected by the Wizengamot, is unacceptable. The members need to be elected by popular vote."

Aberforth snorted. "The Wizengamot will fight that tooth and nail. Far, far harder than they'll ever fight any Dark Lord."

"I know." Which was why they hadn't made those plans public, yet. They needed more influence, and more momentum - more victories - for that.

"Did you discuss this with Albus?"

She shook her head. "No." She was convinced though that the Headmaster at least suspected what she wanted. It was the logical consequence of the events that had led to this war, after all.

"Afraid you'll change your opinion after one of his discussions?"

"No. I'd rather focus on the war." Hermione didn't think anyone would be able to make her change her position on such a fundamental demand, but there was no need to discuss this while the Dark Lord was still their most urgent problem.

"You might be surprised just how radical he can be, despite his old age." Aberforth scoffed. "Or how manipulative. Don't wait too long, or he might have already made arrangements for you."

Hermione nodded. "What will happen with the other prisoners?"

"They'll be interrogated, and then kept somewhere safe," the old wizard answered.

"Do you have the numbers to guard them?" Hermione knew the Resistance did not; guarding three prisoners would have taken so much of their manpower that any larger attacks would have been impossible.

"That's Albus's problem to solve. Though they'll probably be given Draught of Living Death, and then kept hidden somewhere."

A drastic, but logical solution. "They'll be woken up from time to time to exert pressure on their families I assume. And to prove they are still alive."

"Aye." Aberforth vanished the gallows and repaired the hole in the floor. "Are your friends alright with that?"

"Malfoy was the one they all wanted dead. The rest…" She shrugged. "They can live with it." Probably - once the war was over, some might feel that justice demanded a bit more. "As long as we get our share of gold, and the information from their interrogations."

She grinned. They were not hurting for gold, but every galleon paid to them by the families of the prisoners was one less galleon spent for Voldemort. And they could always kill the prisoners at a later date, should the interrogation reveal enough reasons for that.

*****​

Dorset, Britain, December 11th, 1996

Brenda Brocktuckle ground her teeth, staring at the ruins of yet another house destroyed by the mudbloods. And yet another Auror force that had arrived far too late. And another Malfoy residence blown up.

"Why were we called in?" Martin asked. Her partner was a bit annoyed at having been called by headquarters that early. "Shouldn't they have called Shacklebolt or Dawlish?"

Brenda motioned to a tree stump behind the ruins. "They're already here. We were either called because one of them thinks we can help, or because Parkinson pulled some strings."

"Joy. I always wanted to be in the middle of an office feud," Martin muttered. He was sounding more and more like a veteran with each day.

But he wasn't quite there yet. "I'd prefer to be in the middle of an office feud, instead of what could turn out to be a bloody massacre," Brenda said. "I don't know if Dawlish is a Death Eater, but many of his Aurors are." And everyone knew that Shacklebolt was Dumbledore's man.

"Parkinson's a Death Eater too," her partner whispered.

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you certain?"

"I don't have proof, but what he says, and how he says it…" The Auror shrugged. "I know."

"He's been trying to recruit you, then." Brenda wondered why Parkinson hadn't started on her. Maybe he thought it would be easier if Martin was on his side before he tried to recruit her. Or he didn't think she'd join. Brenda didn't know how to feel about that. Death Eaters were quick to count those who didn't want to join as enemies, or so she heard.

"You're not surprised," Martin said, interrupting her thoughts.

She shook her head. "He lost his family to the mudbloods. If he wasn't a Death Eater before, he's likely to be one now just for that." And the Rowles had been Death Eaters. "Where is he, anyway?"

"He should be here already," Martin said. "He left before we did." The Auror crouched down and picked up a piece of copper from the ground. "Another casing," he remarked. "Same type as was found in Knockturn Alley."

"That was to be expected." Brenda didn't care much - the thing was likely the result of a Doubling Charm, and would not last that long. They already knew that the mudbloods were using muggle guns - apparently, the wounds were quite specific, if you were familiar with those filthy weapons.

They walked over to Shacklebolt and Dawlish. The two men were arguing already, though fortunately a bit away from the body covered by a blanket. A young Auror was standing next to it, looking uncomfortable. Maisie Maygold was one of Shacklebolt's - knowing that was important these days.

"Who's that?" Brenda asked, nodding at the blanket.

"She has been identified as Pansy Parkinson," the rookie said.

Brenda closed her eyes and hissed through her clenched teeth. Another of Parkinson's family, gone. No wonder the man wasn't here - he had probably been sent away after losing it. Aurors shouldn't investigate the murder of their family, every one knew that. And yet, few heeded it.

Martin lifted the blanket, then winced. "Merlin's beard!"

Maygold had turned her head away, Brenda noticed, before she took a look herself. Understandable, she thought - the young witch's body was mangled almost beyond recognition. She crouched down and waved her wand. "No sign of curses. She was killed either by the guns, or the impact, or the explosion that followed."

"Impact?" Maygold asked.

Martin pointed at the splintered, blackened wood nearby. "That's a broom." Brenda saw that he was smiling at the other Auror. She almost sighed - a crime scene wasn't the place to flirt. "Who else has been identified so far?"

"Ah…" the witch turned towards Brenda. "They found the bodies of Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, inside the ruins."

"Malfoy's missing?" Brenda asked, covering up the corpse again.

Maygold nodded.

"Missing, presumed dead," Martin said.

"Is anyone else missing?" Brenda asked.

"Shacklebolt said that Astoria Greengrass alerted the Ministry when her sister did not return from visiting Malfoy. She was with her friend Tracey Davis, and they suspect that Theodore Nott was present as well."

Brenda whistled. All of them had inherited seats in the Wizengamot, currently held by proxies. Which meant that the pressure to solve this case would be enormous. She was very glad this wasn't her case.

"Why's Shacklebolt here?" Martin asked. "There's no sign of Death Eaters being involved."

"Malfoy is a suspected Death Eater, as were his parents," Maygold said, quoting her team leader verbatim, Brenda thought, "and two bombs were used by the Resistance. The second might have been used against Death Eater forces arriving - there are some signs of combat on the perimeter."

Brenda nodded. Definitely Shacklebolt's analysis. The rookie wouldn't have caught that.

"I guess we'll know when they find the bodies," Martin said.

*****​

Hogsmeade, December 11th, 1996

An hour later, Brenda was staring at the body of Draco Malfoy. The mudbloods had left the him hanging from a conjured gallows in the middle of Hogsmeade.

"I'm glad it's not a weekend," Martin mumbled next to her.

"Why? Do you think this would have shocked them?" Brenda asked. The students had seen a lot, lately.

"No. They might have mutilated the body further," her partner said. "Malfoy had to flee the school, last I heard."

"Ah." If the mudbloods had not taken responsibility by sticking a sheet of parchment on the corpse's chest listing all his supposed crimes, they would have had to interrogate the students as suspects.

"Murder, attempted murder, membership of the Death Eaters…" Martin started to read the parchment.

"Stop that!" Brenda snapped. She was not in the mood to listen to mudblood lies and propaganda. Bragging about their murders, acting as if they were the law… it was sickening.

Martin stopped. "They executed him." After a wave of his wand, he added: "But they didn't kill him here. That was just for show. He was hanged, though."

"Like muggles." Brenda scowled. What was next? Burning wizards alive? How low would those mudbloods sink?

She noticed the gawking people passing more sheets around, and cursed. "Let's get him down, and collect the filth here, before it spreads."

By the time they had managed to undo the conjured gallows, though, the whole village knew about the accusations against Malfoy. Brenda scowled again - her superiors wouldn't like that.

She really needed a success with her undercover operation, but it wasn't as if she could just send them to attack anyone. Unless… she studied the roofs of the houses around them and smiled.

She would have to get it cleared by Bones, but the Avengers would soon strike again.

*****​

Outside Rawtenstall, Lancashire, Britain, December 11th, 1996

Albus Dumbledore frowned, watching the stunned and bound prisoners lined up in the cells of the safe house he had set up in Lancashire. All of them were hurt, Miss Greengrass the worst, and while they were in no immediate danger of dying from their wounds, they needed a Healer.

Unfortunately, while there were several Healers he could count on to treat the members of the Order of the Phoenix, he couldn't exactly trust them with treating prisoners that the Muggleborn Resistance had taken. While all members of the Order were determined to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters, not all of them understood that the actions Miss Granger and her friends took were needed. And it would be a catastrophe if his close relationship to the muggleborns were revealed to the Ministry and the public. At least at this point.

He sighed. He didn't like obliviating his friends and allies, but sometimes it was needed. At least, he told himself, the Healer he had in mind would prefer to be obliviated instead of letting those three youths go untreated.

It still felt like a betrayal.

*****​

A few hours later, his wards alerted him. He closed the book he had been reading - a description of various dark curses used by houngans in the last war with Jamaica, as well as their counters, unfortunately without an entry for a withering curse - and drew his wand to unlock the back door. Messrs Weasley had arrived.

"That's your own secret Azkaban? It looks rather normal!"

He chuckled politely at Fred Weasley's remark upon entering the kitchen. "It is primarily a safe house. The facilities to keep prisoners were a later addition." He gestured at the table. "Please serve yourself, unless you have eaten dinner already."

"We actually did eat before coming," George said. "We really didn't expect this."

Albus wondered what they had expected. A torture chamber? He didn't ask though, merely kept smiling. "To surprise you two is quite the achievement for a wizard my age."

Both chuckled. Fred grabbed a lemon drizzle slice from the tray. "Do the prisoners get this food as well?"

"Is there a need to deprive them of food?" Albus asked in response. "It seems wasteful to serve different meals to guards and prisoners when a simple Doubling Charm will provide enough food for both. Although most of the time, the prisoners will be under the influence of Draught of Living Death." He couldn't spare the Order members to keep the prisoners under guard.

Fred nodded. "Smart."

George seemed to disagree with his brother, judging by his expression, but the wizard didn't object. Instead he took a cup and filled it with tea. "According to the rumours, the attack on Malfoy was quite bloody. What state are the prisoners in?"

"They have been seen to by a Healer," Albus answered. Whom he had obliviated afterwards, as planned.

"Good." George nodded.

"Wouldn't want them to die before they have been interrogated," Fred said. Albus thought it sounded a bit forced, but he wasn't certain.

"Mister Nott has been interrogated with Veritaserum already." And he had revealed two members of his family as Death Eaters. Confirmed, actually - it wasn't as if Albus hadn't already suspected that Thadesius and Melara Nott were followers of the Dark Lord.

"That leaves Davis and Greengrass, then." Fred nodded.

George smiled briefly, behind his brother.

Albus inclined his head. "Shall we proceed then? The sooner we have the information, the more valuable it will be."

*****​

Outside Rawtenstall, Lancashire, Britain, December 11th, 1996

Daphne Greengrass woke up with a scream. For a moment, she thought she was falling to her death, before she realised she was sitting on a chair. She was alive! Then she remembered the wound, the hole in her belly, and tried to pat herself down to check - but she couldn't move her arms. Her hands were secured behind her back. Her elation at having survived the battle vanished at once.

She was a prisoner of the mudbloods. She knew what that meant - those animals would torture her to death! She didn't want to die. Not like that. Not at all. She struggled, but her hands remained bound, as did her feet. And she was stuck to the chair. She was still wearing her robe, but it sported several rips and tears… and a hole over her stomach.

Daphne looked around. She was in a small room, bare floor and walls. A solid-looking door. No window. And there was a faint smell of blood. No, that was her robe. She pulled on her bonds again. She had to escape. They had taken her wand, but… she ignored how her wrists started to hurt. She had to escape!

The door started to open and she froze for a second, then schooled her features. She'd not give those animals the satisfaction of seeing her cry. But when she saw Fred and George Weasley enter, she couldn't help but gasp. She had known that they were blood traitors, like their whole family, but to… to work with those murderous mudbloods?

"Hello, Miss Greengrass," Fred said, grinning. "Or do you prefer 'Mary'?"

"Traitors!" she spat. "Murderers!"

"Murderers?" Fred sneered at her. "We're not the ones working for the Dark Lord, attacking muggleborns."

"You and your friends murdered my family!" She bared her teeth.

The two traitors exchanged glances. "Your parents died in Malfoy Manor, didn't they?" George asked.

"Yes! Murdered by you and your friends!"

Fred shrugged. "If you ally yourself with the Dark Lord's worst, you have to expect that. People tend to object to getting murdered for being born."

"My parents weren't allied with anyone! They were simply attending a ball!" Daphne felt tears appear in her eyes, and angrily shook her head. She didn't want to show weakness, not now.

"A ball thrown by the Dark Lord's right hand." Fred stepped closer. "Where all the rich purebloods could mingle, and plan how to make his takeover of the Ministry easier." He scoffed. "Did you think the muggleborns wouldn't notice what you were planning?"

"We didn't plan anything! You and your mudblood friends murdered dozens of people just for being purebloods!" She sneered at him. "Or for being rich, I should say. Does it feel good to attack your betters?"

"We didn't attack Malfoy Manor," George cut in, holding up his hand to stop his brother from aiming his wand at her. "But we would have helped, had we been needed. Or asked." He stared at her. "Why do you think the muggleborns attacked you?"

"Because they hate us! They are jealous of us, of our culture, of our way of life. They want to tear it all down!" She felt tears running down her cheeks, but didn't care anymore. She was dead anyway.

"They hate you - now. After all you did to them, on the orders of the Dark Lord." George shook his head.

"We didn't do anything to them!" They hadn't! Daphne hadn't even talked to a mudblood in months, when she had still been at Hogwarts!

"How stupid are you? The changed laws, the discrimination, the punishments by Umbridge! You force them out of Hogwarts, out of Wizarding Britain, and think you didn't do anything? It was your family and friends in the Wizengamot who voted for those laws and policies!" Fred glared at her.

"No one was forced out of Hogwarts! If they had passed the test they could have stayed! It's not our fault they are too stupid or too lazy to study!" She clenched her teeth.

"Hermione was too lazy to study? Too stupid to pass the test?" Fred leaned in, his face but a foot from hers, and his voice became a whisper. "You bigots lied and cheated to drive the muggleborns out, to please the Dark Lord. How many muggleborns were killed by Aurors 'resisting arrest'? Did you think they wouldn't notice? Did you expect them to let you continue until you had killed them all?" He scoffed. "You and your friends were all too happy, getting rid of muggleborns. Cozying up to scum like Malfoy."

Daphne glared at him. Granger. Always Granger. As much as she hated to admit it, that mudblood had been smart. Top of the class, even. A mudblood, beating purebloods! The teachers had been fawning over her. Daphne had loved the day the upstart had been taught her place, the day she had learned that some things you couldn't learn no matter how much you read. She raised her chin, meeting his eyes. "And does getting expelled from Hogwarts justify murdering people? That's the act of a rabid animal!" She saw him jerk, and suddenly, the tip of his wand was digging into her throat. "Go on, murder me! Just as your friends murdered my family!"

For a moment, she thought he would. Then George put his hand on Fred's arm, and pushed it down.

Fred stared at her. "You really don't understand what you and your friends did, do you? You have no idea why the muggleborns fight you. Or why we fight you."

"Because you hate us! Because you're jealous!"

Fred cursed. "George, let's dose her and get this over with, before I kill her."

His brother seemed to hesitate a moment, then Daphne saw him nod and pull a vial out of his pocket. She gasped. Veritaserum!

"You monsters!" She spat, then pressed her lips together. It didn't help her - a simple hex, and her mouth was open. George was there, with the vial, and… things started to get hazy. Easy. The chair was quite comfortable, and why had she wanted to escape again? Oh, they wanted her to answer a few questions. Of course she would!

*****​

"And why did you spy on our shop?"

Albus Dumbledore, disillusioned, watched as Miss Greengrass blinked in response to Fred's question.

"Because Draco wanted us to," the witch said in the typically dreamy voice of those under the effect of Veritaserum.

"What was his plan?"

"We were supposed to lure you into a trap."

Fred hissed. "I knew it! Did he want to kill us?"

"I don't know."

"Did you want to kill us?" Fred asked.

"I don't know. When?"

"How stupid is she?" The young wizard turned to his brother.

George took over: "When you were in our shop and attacked Fred."

"No. I wanted to escape."

"And before that?"

"Draco said that the Dark Lord wanted you alive."

Albus watched the expressions on the two wizards.

"As hostages?"

"I don't know."

Fred sighed, his frustration evident. "She doesn't know anything. No Death Eaters, no plans, no safe houses, nothing!"

George seemed to almost shrug. "Were you just following orders?"

"Yes."

"Even when you were attacking the Burrow?" Fred cut in.

"Yes."

Albus glanced at the transcript of the interrogation. They had gone over this before. Before he said anything though, George spoke up. "I think we're done here. We're repeating questions."

"Right." Fred raised his wand. "Let's stun her and get Davis." The boy turned his head in Albus's direction.

The Headmaster didn't answer - it wouldn't do if Miss Greengrass knew of his involvement; future arrangements might be endangered - but stunned the girl himself. Then he ended his Disillusionment Charm. "A thorough if unfortunately not too fruitful interrogation," he said. "Though I did not expect anything else from Miss Greengrass."

"She really didn't understand why the muggleborns attacked Malfoy Manor," Fred said, shaking his head. "I can't believe it!"

"Her world has no place for muggleborns. She was raised to believe that it was a privilege for them to learn magic - but she never learned how privileged she was herself." Albus knew that he could have made certain that Miss Greengrass and her peers had learned that lesson. But it would have been a harsh and painful one, and would have required efforts or methods that the Ministry and the public wouldn't have tolerated. And yet, if he had made the attempt, maybe… He sighed. He hadn't, preferring to focus on other plans, and he had to live with the results of his choice.

"Well, we know she was not a fanatic," George said.

"She was eager enough. A willing tool of Malfoy," Fred said, glaring at the unconscious witch.

"A fool, I would say - but every one of us is a fool at times," Albus said. He was glad that the young witch had not done anything irredeemable.

Fred scowled, but George nodded. "So… she'll be fed Draught of Living Death, and woken up once the war is over?"

"I gather she will be woken up a few times until then, to deal with things," Albus answered. "Such as instructing her family."

"Alright. I'll fetch Davis." Fred left.

Albus looked at George. "Are you satisfied?"

"It wasn't as bad as I feared, but not as good as I hoped," the young wizard said.

"A result quite common in life." Albus smiled.

"He didn't ask her if her interest in him had been feigned."

"Indeed. Maybe he did not want to know?" Albus shrugged.

"Great. I had hoped he would be over her."

Albus was not certain that the young wizard was quite honest, but didn't press the issue.

*****​

Hogwarts, December 11th, 1996

Ron Weasley pushed his homework - an essay for Potions - around on the table in the library. He hadn't written anything for half an hour. Instead, he had tried to make up his mind whether or not he should learn Legilimency. And he hadn't made any progress. On one hand, it would be very useful. To read an enemy's mind… if he learned how to catch glimpses of their intentions during a duel, he could react to their spells before they cast them. And he would be able to find out what all those Slytherins were thinking.

Only there weren't that many Slytherins still at Hogwarts. Zabini was the most prominent one left - and if he was a Death Eater, he was hiding it really well. And the Headmaster would have already checked, wouldn't he? And Ron didn't think using such a skill to find out what that wizard thought about Ginny would be a responsible thing to do.

Which was the crux of the issue. Despite some rumours to the contrary, Ron wasn't averse to learning and studying, as long as he could see the need for it - which he didn't with regards to that damn Potions essay! But once he had learned it, could he restrain himself from abusing it? He had spent the day wondering how it would be, being able to read minds. To know what the other students were thinking. Or the teachers. Was Digby really a Cannons fan, or was that just a way to get closer to Harry? Was he a fan of the Boy-Who-Lived, or even a Death Eater sympathiser? What had been so amusing that Bones had giggled loudly in class?

"Hey, Ron!"

He almost jerked, snatching his wand up. Lavender was standing in front of his table. Merlin's balls, he hadn't noticed her! If she had been a Slytherin… Moody would roast him alive if he knew!

The witch was showing both her hands. "Don't hex me!" she said, though she was giggling.

"Sorry, you surprised me," he muttered. He didn't stow his wand though - he started to play around with it, as if absentmindedly. A trick Moody had taught him and Harry to keep their wands ready without appearing to. Was it time for their patrol already? Not according to his watch.

She grinned. "If only I had managed to surprise you in the last Defence class!" She twisted one of her blonde locks around her finger. "You hexed me pretty badly."

"I'm sorry." He wasn't, really - compared to Moody's special training, those Defence lessons were nothing. A few Stinging Hexes.

"It still hurts a bit, when I rub it," Lavender said, running a hand over her thigh.

Maybe he had been a bit too callous. But then, Moody always said that it was better to suffer in training than to die in battle. He caught himself staring at her hand, and looked away. He did see her smile though.

"So… I was wondering… Do you do anything but training? Quidditch and Defence?" Lavender asked.

"And patrols," Ron said. They were prefects, after all.

"Yes." He saw her tongue wet her lips. "But I mean, something… fun, you know?"

Ron didn't have to read minds to understand what she meant. "I don't have a girlfriend, if you mean that." He was dating, but… it was complicated.

"That was one of my guesses, actually. I wondered if you were sneaking off to see a witch."

He nodded. He was, sometimes at least, but he couldn't tell her that. "That's more training," he said.

"Mh." She crossed her legs and shifted her position on the table a bit. "You remember what I told you, when we had a similar talk?"

"Yes." But he wasn't over Hermione.

She looked at him with what he thought was hope in her eyes, briefly biting her lower lip. Like Hermione, but different.

He sighed, and shook his head, smiling faintly. "I'm not over her."

He saw how she briefly stiffened, then smiled. "Ah, well… if you do, you know…"

"Yes."

She slid off the table, and nodded. "We've got a patrol in ten minutes… meet at the Fat Lady?"

"Alright."

She was five minutes late for their patrol, and Parvati seemed to glare at him in the common room, but otherwise, they acted like usual. If he were able to read her mind though… he wouldn't, he realised.

*****​

Outside Stamford, Lincolnshire, Britain, December 11th, 1996

Even though he was alone, the Dark Lord Voldemort didn't vent his anger while he paced in the reading room of his latest residence. It wouldn't do to let emotions rule him. Malfoy had been murdered by the mudbloods. By itself, that would not have been a crucial loss. Malfoy's heir would continue to support Voldemort with gold - unless he wanted to become the next late Malfoy - and the boy hadn't been much of an asset apart from that. He had had potential, and had shown initiative by gathering a group for the Dark Lord, but others had done the same, or more.

No, the problem was the manner in which Malfoy had been murdered. He had been attacked in his new home, his wards shattered, his group defeated - killed or captured, all of them - and the Death Eaters the Dark Lord had sent as reinforcements and a relief force had failed. If their leader had not been killed by the second bomb, he would have been punished for such a blunder. News of this, if not all the details, had spread quickly through Wizarding Britain after Malfoy's corpse had been found in Hogsmeade. Two heirs to a seat in the Wizengamot killed, two more still missing - and in the eyes of Wizarding Britain, all of it was the work of the mudbloods!

He knew that Dumbledore was behind it. The timing was too perfect. Just after Voldemort's reputation had recovered thanks to his attacks on blood traitors, the mudbloods copied him. Soon, his old nemesis would offer protection from the mudbloods for anyone who opposed Voldemort. The Dark Lord would do the same in his place. And many, too many of the spineless worms in the Wizengamot and the Ministry would accept such an offer.

He ground his teeth. He couldn't let that happen. But more attacks on blood traitors would not have the same effect as before - he needed to strike at the mudbloods. A trap might be possible. He could lure them into an ambush by using another Death Eater as bait.

He could do that - and play right into Dumbledore's hands. The old wizard was waiting for Voldemort to commit himself to an attack to strike at him. Between the mudbloods and Dumbledore and his Order, the likelihood of the Dark Lord's death was too great. He'd return, thanks to his Horcruxes. But while returning from death once was a legendary feat, returning from death for the second time meant that he'd have been killed twice already. And that was considerably less impressive.

No, he had to fight back in a way Dumbledore wasn't prepared for. A decisive strike.

And there was just one target where that was possible.

*****​

London, East End, December 12th, 1996

"Hermione?"

Sally-Anne's voice interrupted Hermione's planning session with John for the next Resistance Radio broadcast. She looked up to find the witch in the door to the briefing room, which also doubled as an office. "Yes?"

"Colin's awake now."

Hermione didn't freeze up, but she grew tense. "Thank you," she pressed out. Turning to John, she added: "I'll be back. Check the transcripts we received for more information about crimes. But don't mention that Greengrass and Davis only joined Malfoy after their parents had been killed by us." That kind of information wouldn't be conducive in motivating people to oppose the Death Eaters. Hermione knew it should be obvious that people, especially purebloods, would want to avenge dead family members, no matter what those had done to deserve their fate, but not everyone realised that. Or was willing to risk such reactions. But in order to win this war, the Death Eaters had to be fought and killed, or those monsters would murder more innocents. Even if it meant they'd have to fight their children as well - better to do it now, than in ten years.

She followed Sally-Anne down to their Infirmary - not as well-equipped as it should be, but so far it had been good enough. Until the Creeveys had been struck by unknown dark curses.

"He's being brave," Sally-Anne said, unasked. "But… I saw him stare at his leg, and… he's not doing well."

Hermione nodded. She could imagine the horror of seeing your limb shrivel up, become a dead thing hanging on your body. It was thoroughly unnatural - any muggle doctor would realise that at once, after seeing it.

Which meant that the Creeveys would have to very carefully cover themselves when venturing into muggle London. And she didn't want to imagine how their parents would react.

And it was all her fault.

The smile on Hermione's face when she entered the Infirmary was forced. Both brothers were awake now. Colin turned towards her, one hand on Dennis's arm - the good one. "Hermione!"

"Hi Colin, hi Dennis." She ignored Dennis wiping his eyes and putting on a brave face.

"Hi, Hermione." Dennis's voice still shook.

Hermione was painfully reminded of the fact that he was barely fourteen - too young to fight in this war!

"Did we get them all?" Colin asked.

Hermione nodded. "We captured or killed all the targets, and even more Death Eaters when Seamus left a bomb during our retreat." She dropped a picture down on Colin's bed. "That's Malfoy, dead."

Their faces lit up, and both peered at the picture. Hermione winced when she heard Dennis whisper "Yes!"

"Do you have a recording of his execution?" Colin asked, eagerly even.

"We just took pictures, no video," Hermione said.

"Ah… OK."

It wasn't OK though. Why hadn't she thought of recording it? As gruesome as it was, it would have made the two boys feel better.

"Did… did you find out what curse hit us?" Dennis asked suddenly, looking up from the picture.

Hermione shook her head. "I and others are working on it. But so far we haven't found anything, just a hint that it might have been a curse from a houngan."

That caused both of the boys to wince. "Voodoo?" Colin said, shivering. Of course he'd know what a houngan was, even if he couldn't list all the laws of Transfiguration!

"It's just a hint, it might be wrong. We're still at the start of our research."

Colin took a deep breath. "Would… would it be easier if we cut it off and got a pro... an enchanted limb?"

Did the boys think they'd be a burden? Hermione shook her head. "We have the time, don't worry about it." She hoped she was not lying.

Colin nodded. Dennis though… the younger boy pointed with his good hand at his cursed arm, carefully not touching it. "I want it gone! I can't stand looking at it like that!" He was shivering, but wasn't crying - yet.

Hermione felt as if she had received a Bludger to the stomach. He wanted the limb cut off? She should have expected that. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "We'll have to arrange that with a muggle doctor." They would have to be obliviated as well. "That might take some time. So… don't give up hope, please."

Dennis nodded, his lips quivering.

Colin, who was wrapping an arm around his brother, looked at her with an unreadable expression. "I want my leg cut off as well."

Hermione opened her mouth, to ask if he was just following his brother's example, but Colin's gaze hardened, and she shut up. Of course he'd share this with his brother. So she simply nodded. "I'll arrange it."

And she'd try her best to find a counter-curse until then.

*****​

London, Ministry of Magic, December 13th, 1996

"What's the situation?" Brenda Brocktuckle asked while she ran towards the Apparition point in the Ministry.

"Robbery of a shop went wrong, apparently. 'Haley's Hats', in Diagon Alley," Martin, sprinting next to her, said. "Owner was still around, and a fight ensued. An Auror patrol heard the noise, and placed Anti-Apparition Jinxes over the house."

"Why are we responding?" Brenda said, turning the corner. They were on the night shift, but not as a fast response force. There were Hit-Wizards for that!

"The thieves were shouting mudblood slogans while they engaged the Aurors with Curses."

"Can't be the Resistance. They'd have gone through an Auror patrol easily," Brenda said. "But could be another group of mudbloods." She grinned. Mudbloods arrested were mudbloods arrested. "Did anyone call Parkinson?"

"I didn't call him," Martin said.

"Hopefully, someone did," Brenda said. Their partner would be angry if he missed this… but then, he had taken the day off.

The two Aurors reached the Apparition point, and an instant later, they arrived in Diagon Alley, about 100 yards away from the shop under siege. A group of Hit-Wizards was moving in, from both sides of the shop, sticking close to the fronts so they couldn't be hexed from the shop without the caster exposing himself to the wands of the third group. Standard tactics, Brenda noted, approvingly.

Standard tactics, she remembered with a sinking feelings, meant that they were known. So… just how good were those mudbloods? Brenda took out her Omnioculars and studied the shop's front. No sign of any trap there. The other shops' wards were still up. And the road was free but for the mudholes… the mudholes! The Hit-Wizards were advancing too quickly, no one was checking the mudholes!

She cast an Amplifying Charm and yelled: "Check the mudholes before advancing!"

The groups froze, and one of them pointed his wand at a patch of mud. He disappeared in an explosion that threw his teammates into the middle of the street. A second later, another explosion followed on the other side.

"They trapped the mudholes!" Brenda snarled. Cowards! She rushed forward, Martin at her side, dispelling a few mudholes on the way - though none of them exploded. They were too far away though to do anything when the Hit-Wizards lying in the middle of the street came under fire from the upper floor of the shop.

The rest of the Hit-Wizards tried to provide cover for them, but they were too slow - a Blasting Curse hit the middle of the right side, sending cobblestones flying. Brenda saw one Hit-Wizard, who had just managed to get up, but not cast a Shield Charm, get hit in the head by a stone and fall down again, his face a bleeding mess. Another screamed, trying to crawl with broken legs. The other group of wounded fared better - marginally. One was casting wildly, hobbling towards the next cover, another was still on the ground, but seemed to aim carefully. A green curse - the Killing Curse! - struck the limping wizard, who dropped like a puppet with his strings cut.

The third group of Hit-Wizards was still providing covering fire, but wasn't having a lot of effect. "Bloody amateurs!" Brenda cursed. She reached their position and slid behind the closest cover. "Hit the shop's front with Blasting Curses!"

The Hit-Wizard in front of her turned around. "What?" he yelled.

"Hit the front of the shop with Blasting Curses!" Brenda yelled again. She stood up to cast herself, together with Martin. Two craters appeared in the shop's front, plaster and wood and pulverised bricks dropping to the ground. She didn't know if she had hit anyone, but the curses thrown at them from the building slacked off for a moment.

The remaining Hit-Wizard in the street tried to use the opportunity, sprinting towards the next barricade. Another Killing Curse missed him by a few feet and blew up a part of the street. But Brenda had spotted the dark wizard now.

"Second window from the left, first floor," she told Martin, who smiled grimly. A second later, the window was destroyed when two curses hit it. Brenda saw someone moving inside, but her next curse just missed the figure. Then the curses stopped flying at them altogether. She had a bad feeling about this. "Extend the Anti-Apparition Jinxes!" she yelled.

Then the mudbloods sallied from the shop, wands leading and curses flashing. They were brave, she gave them that. Or stupid. Or both. Six of them, against five Hit-Wizards who had just lost seven of their comrades, and two Aurors, all of them in cover. And yet, if not for Brenda's order, they might have made it - they cleared half the street, curses smashing into the conjured barricades and hitting Shield Charms, forcing more than one Hit-Wizard to keep their head down under the barrage, before the first of them fell - a victim of Martin's Bludgeoning Curse that smashed their hips.

Brenda saw the rest flick their wands, without a spell appearing - they were trying to apparate. "Blast them!" she yelled, casting a Reductor Curse at the feet of the closest one. The witch screamed when her foot was hit and almost blown off. Two down. A third was hit by two Piercing Curses, one in the throat, the other in the chest. In exchange, one of the Hit-Wizards had caught a Killing Curse. She barely noticed how a curse hit her own Shield Charm.

The rest of the mudbloods were splitting up, trying to outrun the Anti-Apparition Jinxes, Brenda bet. Not on her watch! Her Cutting Curse sliced into the legs of the wizard who had cast the Killing Curse, dropping him in a spray of blood, while another was hit with half a dozen curses at once, or so it seemed, and simply went down.

The last one, though, rolled forward, neatly avoiding another Reductor Curse, then dove behind an upturned cart. Amateur, Brenda thought dismissively, a second before her next spell blew up the cart and sent deadly splinters flying - most of them into the Shield Charm of the last mudblood. The wizard was hurt, but still tried to run, though exposed as he was, a Hit-Wizard took him down with a complicated spell.

Brenda waited thirty seconds, then stood up. "Check the wounded! You two - search the shop and house. Martin! With me, we'll secure the prisoners."

She shivered a bit when the tension of the battle left her, but she was smiling widely - for once, they hadn't been too late. And they had prisoners they could use to find even more mudbloods.

This had been a very good night shift.

*****​

 

[Ack]

Chapter 21: End of a Line

'Pureblood supporters of the Dark Lord often accused the muggleborns of being ignorant of Wizarding Britain's culture. While, by and large, the muggleborns did not know the intricacies of pureblood society very well, they cannot be blamed for that. There was no course covering this topic at Hogwarts. The reasons given for this vary. Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black once said that it would be a waste of gold and time; muggleborns were neither inclined nor able to learn the sophisticated manners of purebloods.
Headmaster Armando Dippet did not share this opinion, but said that as children picked up how to act in polite society from their family, muggleborns would pick up how to comport themselves properly during their seven years at Hogwarts. And the most famous Headmaster of Hogwarts in the 20th century, Albus Dumbledore, was quoted as saying that he saw "no sense in trying to teach students the manners of people who would never accept them in the first place, nor in elevating the outdated attitudes and pretensions of a very small segment of the pureblood population into a course when the vast majority of the purebloods didn't act that differently". Sadly, that quote has never been properly dated, so we lack the context to interpret it properly.
However, it cannot be denied that even those purebloods Headmaster Dumbledore would not have counted as pretentious were ignorant of muggle culture. A weakness, as it was revealed, that would cost several of them dearly when they went to hide among muggles during the war.'
- Excerpt from 'Wizarding Britain in the 20th Century' by Albert Runcorn

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I have to say, I like these little excerpts at the beginning of each chapter. Though this one doesn't quite seem to have panned out.

​

Dorset, Britain, December 10th, 1996

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The aftermath of battle, dealing with wounds both magical and mundane.
It's kind of ironic that the mundane injuries are more easily healed.

London, Hampstead, December 10th, 1996

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The interrogation of Malfoy. You can't help wondering if they were looking for any sort of remorse in the guy. Of course, there is nothing like that.

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London, Hampstead, December 11th, 1996

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And Malfoy is executed; cleanly, quietly and traditionally. It could have gone a lot worse for him.

London, Hampstead, December 11th, 1996

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A quiet conversation with Dumbledore. Hermione is very awake to the problems involved in what she's doing.

Dorset, Britain, December 11th, 1996

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Internal politics in the Aurors. Makes you wonder if the existing divides won't get larger as times go on.

Hogsmeade, December 11th, 1996

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And the reaction to the body of Malfoy. Interesting. We'll see how well the 'Avengers' do.

Outside Rawtenstall, Lancashire, Britain, December 11th, 1996

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Dumbledore's not thrilled with what he has to do, but it has to be done anyway.

Outside Rawtenstall, Lancashire, Britain, December 11th, 1996

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And sometimes the minions of the evil empire are just ... normal.

Hogwarts, December 11th, 1996

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Ron with his girl troubles. "Sorry, but the girl I'm in love with is the leader of the Resistance, and is still trying to figure out if she loves me or Harry more."

Yeah, that'd go down well.

Outside Stamford, Lincolnshire, Britain, December 11th, 1996

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Ol' Noseless is about to try something. Wonder what it is?

London, East End, December 12th, 1996

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The heartache of command.

London, Ministry of Magic, December 13th, 1996

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Well, well. Looks like some thieves got in way over their heads. Or maybe this could be a double-blind operation, hoping to decoy the Resistance into rescuing them?

Good chapter.

 

[turbinicarpus]

Or was willing to risk such reactions. But in order to win this war, the Death Eaters had to be fought and killed, or those monsters would murder more innocents. Even if it meant they'd have to fight their children as well - better to do it now, than in ten years.

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Hermione's new nickname: The Terminator Jean.

 

[Starfox5]

Hermione's new nickname: The Terminator Jean.

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The purebloods don't know movies. And many muggleborns could be starting to think she might be going soft on nazis with her recent messages.

Edit: Hermione, who blew up dozens of purebloods at Malfoy Manor, ruthlessly executed captured Death Eaters and spends a lot of her day planning how to kill more effciently? She is one of the moderates here. For her, this war is not quite that personal. For many others, especially the displaced muggleborns and most of the purebloods involved? It's personal. They've lost family and friends to the war, and blame "the other side". Hermione may not care about killing Death Eater kids trying to avenge their parents, but she doesn't think killing all purebloods/mudbloods is the best way to end the war.

Increasing numbers of others think so.

 

[turbinicarpus]

The purebloods don't know movies.

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I take it they don't know about controversial developments in agricultural biotech, either.

 

[Beyogi]

The purebloods don't know movies. And many muggleborns could be starting to think she might be going soft on nazis with her recent messages.

Edit: Hermione, who blew up dozens of purebloods at Malfoy Manor, ruthlessly executed captured Death Eaters and spends a lot of her day planning how to kill more effciently? She is one of the moderates here. For her, this war is not quite that personal. For many others, especially the displaced muggleborns and most of the purebloods involved? It's personal. They've lost family and friends to the war, and blame "the other side". Hermione may not care about killing Death Eater kids trying to avenge their parents, but she doesn't think killing all purebloods/mudbloods is the best way to end the war.

Increasing numbers of others think so.

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That development was pretty much inevitable from the beginning. There's no way in hell they'll be one society again after this war. Far more likely there will be two ministries and practically two societies that hate each others guts, but don't dare to restart the war.

I don't see how you recover from a war where 45% of the society wants to murder each other and the rest is forced to pick sides and/or be murdered anyway.

 

[Starfox5]

That development was pretty much inevitable from the beginning. There's no way in hell they'll be one society again after this war. Far more likely there will be two ministries and practically two societies that hate each others guts, but don't dare to restart the war.

I don't see how you recover from a war where 45% of the society wants to murder each other and the rest is forced to pick sides and/or be murdered anyway.

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Remember that in a war, it's a percentage of the population that does the fighting - the majority does not fight. And that Dumbledore leads a pureblood faction is also quite important.

 

[Beyogi]

Remember that in a war, it's a percentage of the population that does the fighting - the majority does not fight. And that Dumbledore leads a pureblood faction is also quite important.

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Yes that's the case for conventional modern wars. This percentage gets far larger when it's civil wars and rather horrifying when it's a genocide. Considering the escalation going on in the fighting camps this is soon going to be a genocidal war. And that's going to drive people into the fighting camps. If you're going to get slaughtered anyway you can actually go and fight for your people or flee I guess, but then the other magical nations are almost certainly going to close their borders.

 

[Starfox5]

Yes that's the case for conventional modern wars. This percentage gets far larger when it's civil wars and rather horrifying when it's a genocide. Considering the escalation going on in the fighting camps this is soon going to be a genocidal war. And that's going to drive people into the fighting camps. If you're going to get slaughtered anyway you can actually go and fight for your people or flee I guess, but then the other magical nations are almost certainly going to close their borders.

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Even in civil wars, the vast majority doesn't fight. In this story, most of the muggleborns were evacuated to muggle Britain, and are rather safe. So, there's no threat of being slaughtered for them to drive them to fight or get killed.

 

[riaantheunissen]

Yes that's the case for conventional modern wars. This percentage gets far larger when it's civil wars and rather horrifying when it's a genocide. Considering the escalation going on in the fighting camps this is soon going to be a genocidal war. And that's going to drive people into the fighting camps. If you're going to get slaughtered anyway you can actually go and fight for your people or flee I guess, but then the other magical nations are almost certainly going to close their borders.

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There is also the fact that availability of weapons are generally a thing in modern real world armies. Not so in this world. Anybody with power, knowledge and skill can potentially be dangerous for either faction.

Let's take Astoria Greengrass after the muggleborns and Dubledore's victory over Voldemort and them taking control over the ministry. She knows her parents weren't followers of Voldemort, despite what what is claimed by the victors, making the victors liars in her eyes. She knows that the people currently in control of the government killed them, making them killers in her eyes. She knows (believes) that people tried to kill her at Hogwarts, because she was on the stands when they collapsed. She knows (believes) that Dumbledore covered for them, due to what people she trusted said, making Dumbledore untrustworthy in her eyes. She knows that Dumbledore and the muggleborns stole from her family, making them thieves in her eyes. (The gold used for their war efforts and the gold given to Hermione's followers.) Was other family members killed? Did her sister survive? I think it is reasonable to assume she hates, fears or feels both when it comes to Hermione, Dumbledore and the rest of the victors .

So, can Hermione, Dumbledore and the rest of the victors just leave her be? Allow her to complete her studies, learning things like Apparition, more advanced magic, potions and perhaps spell and ritual crafting? Allow her the opportunity to perhaps venture into the muggle world, where she could learn about explosives? Leave her parents gold, any that they were unable to access through her sister, where she could use it to get tutoring in things that might be dangerous to them? Leave her any business that her parents owned, with the possibility to make money that could be used against them? Leave her any family spells that might be dangerous or could be sold? And she's just one person whose story we know.

There's also the Hit Wizards and Aurors who see the current Muggleborn Resistance in a less than positive light and are actively working against them, Amelia Bones, the Wizengamot members (and their families) that Hermione wants to oust, any other person who was neutral in regards to Voldemort, Dumbledore, the ministry and the muggleborn who lost family or people they loved during an attack by the Muggleborn Resistance, any other person who wasn't neutral who lost a family member or somebody they loved due to the Muggleborn Resistance and probably a few other possibilities I cannot think of now. All of these people are potential threats that the victors would need to consider doing something about.

Honestly, I'm waiting to see how Starfox5 ends the story, because I do not see it ending well for a great number of people who just wanted to live their lives when the story started.

 

[Starfox5]

Honestly, I'm waiting to see how Starfox5 ends the story, because I do not see it ending well for a great number of people who just wanted to live their lives when the story started.

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It all depends on how the war ends. As cynical as it sounds: The worse it is, the more terrible it is, the better the chance that a survivor will be glad that it ended and unwilling to start it up again. But even so - the peace will have to be earned, and a number of problems will have to be sorted out. The story certainly will not end with the defeat of the Dark Lord.

 

[Beyogi]

Even in civil wars, the vast majority doesn't fight. In this story, most of the muggleborns were evacuated to muggle Britain, and are rather safe. So, there's no threat of being slaughtered for them to drive them to fight or get killed.

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I'm rather curious what they're actually doing. Working for the british government? Robbing banks with mind control spells?

This is a part that wasn't really mentioned much in story. I got the impression they got harassed but still hang around wizarding society. Kinda battered wife syndrome with a portion of genocide.

 

[Starfox5]

I'm rather curious what they're actually doing. Working for the british government? Robbing banks with mind control spells?

This is a part that wasn't really mentioned much in story. I got the impression they got harassed but still hang around wizarding society. Kinda battered wife syndrome with a portion of genocide.

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It was mentioned in chapter 6 that many left Wizarding Britain after the riots in Diagon Alley. When the Aurors were looking for muggleborns later (see chapter 9), they couldn't find many - most of those left are old people without families, hiding in Knockturn Alley. Also, Voldemort went after blood traitors since he couldn't find muggleborn targets.

At this point, some are likely to be looking for jobs - though since they are wizards, they do not really need much money, with safe houses having been taken care of. Food can be duplicated, repairs are taken care of, cleaning as well, furniture can be transfigured or conjured - the basic necessities are taken care of. Remember, it's been just a few months so far, even less for some.

 

[Beyogi]

At this point, some are likely to be looking for jobs - though since they are wizards, they do not really need much money, with safe houses having been taken care of. Food can be duplicated, repairs are taken care of, cleaning as well, furniture can be transfigured or conjured - the basic necessities are taken care of. Remember, it's been just a few months so far, even less for some.

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So are they starting to form their own magical society? Or is there still hope that this will just blow over?

It's pretty hard to tell what's actually fact here and what's Hermione buying her own propaganda. Is everyone just going undercover and stop talking to everyone not family, or how does this work?

 

[Starfox5]

So are they starting to form their own magical society? Or is there still hope that this will just blow over?

It's pretty hard to tell what's actually fact here and what's Hermione buying her own propaganda. Is everyone just going undercover and stop talking to everyone not family, or how does this work?

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It's far too early for anyone to start their own society. And yes - think of them as refugees, hiding among muggles, dispersed among different safe houses, which could be forming communities if given enough time. But as refugee camps in real life prove, it takes far longer before people get settled instead of waiting to return.

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 22: Unintended Consequences

'When talking about the muggleborn participation in the Second Blood War, most works focus on the Muggleborn Resistance, the group founded and led by Hermione Granger. This is quite understandable, given that their actions were crucial to starting said war, and include some of the most important events of the conflict. However, it would not be correct to assume that they were the only muggleborns taking up wands to fight for their cause - quite the contrary. Being forced to leave the magical world and go into hiding in muggle Britain had caused many muggleborns to not only resent, but also to outright hate, those they deemed responsible. Only the fear of the Auror response to attacks held many hot-headed muggleborns back. But when news of the efforts of the Resistance and later the Avengers spread, a number felt that they too could make a difference.
Unfortunately, few among the muggleborns had the training and preparation that had made the Resistance so successful, and even fewer still were willing to plan their actions carefully. And even those who did were prone to overconfidence after a first success. The consequences were often fatal.'
- Excerpt from 'The Second Blood War' by Hyacinth Selwyn

*****​

London, Ministry of Magic, December 14th, 1996

Brenda Brocktuckle generally didn't like working on the weekend, though she was a veteran Auror and knew it was needed, especially in a crisis like this conflict with the Death Eaters and the mudbloods. Today all that didn't matter though - they had caught two prisoners! Both needed the attention of a Healer, but the witch who had lost a foot to Brenda's curse would be fine with just the bleeding stopped - she could be treated afterwards. She'd not die during the interrogation. There was no need to bother a Healer for her, especially when it was already past midnight.

Brenda levitated the bound and gagged mudblood into the interrogation room and watched as martin secured her to the chair. The witch's trousers were torn and splattered with blood, so Brenda cast a quick Cleaning Charm lest the mudblood dirty up the room, while Martin went to fetch Veritaserum.

When the door was opened she grabbed her wand - even if he ran Martin wouldn't have been back yet.

"When were you going to tell me that you had captured two mudbloods?"

Brenda snorted at Parkinson, who was leaning against the doorframe. "We had the choice of either informing you, or catching the mudbloods. We barely arrived in time to keep them from escaping - the Hit-Wizards certainly wouldn't have been able to stop them."

Parkinson snorted. "I heard about the death toll. Hidden bombs - like the Resistance."

Brenda doubted that the prisoners were members of the Resistance, but held her tongue. Veritaserum would reveal the truth soon enough, and if she actually had caught some of those responsible for the bombing of Malfoy Manor… that'd be a promotion for certain.

Martin arrived, panting. The rookie must have run, Brenda thought, as he handed her the sealed vial.

The prisoner had stopped glaring at them and was now staring at the vial. Brenda saw she was trembling. The Auror grinned as she approached her - that meant the mudblood was afraid of betraying others. Which was exactly what she had hoped.

A few spells later the gag was removed and the mudblood dosed. There was no danger anymore of an attempt to bite her tongue off; the witch was faintly smiling and humming. Brenda pulled out a dictaquill and started the investigation.

"December 14th, 1996. Brenda Brocktuckle, interrogating a suspect arrested in the robbery of 'Haley's Hats' in Diagon Alley." She turned to the witch. "What's your name?

"Mary-Jane Milton." The witch's smile grew.

"Blood status?"

"Muggleborn."

Brenda nodded. As suspected. "Are you a part of the Muggleborn Resistance?"

"Yes."

Brenda's eyes widened. She heard Martin gasp. "Were you involved in the bombing of Malfoy Manor?"

"No."

"Were any others in the group you were with involved?"

"No. William wished he had been."

"Who recruited you and how?"

"We were listening to the wireless, read the newspapers and leaflets… we decided to join the fight. If the Resistance and the Avengers can fight, then so can we!"

Brenda hissed. That wasn't an intended effect of her undercover operation. "Did you form your own group, without any contact with the Muggleborn Resistance?"

"We listened to their broadcasts, and read their leaflets."

"But you didn't talk to any of their members."

"No."

Brenda sighed. Just some idiots who tried to copy the Resistance then. Dangerous idiots though. "Why were you in 'Haley's Hats' on Friday, December 13th, 1996?"

"We wanted to teach the pureblood who had stolen it from Ellie a lesson."

Brenda frowned. That sounded improbable. "Who's Ellie?"

"Ellie was my best friend."

"Was?"

"She was killed today. I saw her die."

"What's her full name?"

"Ellie Pearson."

"Describe her."

"Brown hair, shoulder-length. Five foot five inches. She wore brown trousers and a green shirt."

That fit the witch they had found inside the shop, killed by splinters from the Blasting Curses that had reduced the front of the shop to rubble. Brenda made a small note. "Who stole the shop from her?"

"That pureblood bigot, Millard Macmillan. She had to sell her shop, and he robbed her blind. He paid her a Knut on the Galleon."

Brenda rolled her eyes. So the mudblood had sold too cheaply, and blamed the buyer. "And then you decided to destroy the shop, so no one could have it."

"Yes."

"Who placed the bombs in the mudholes?"

"William."

"What's his full name?"

"William Frederick Poole."

"Muggleborn?"

"Yes."

"Did he make the bombs?"

"Yes. He read about it, but it took him some time to get it right."

"Did all of you know about the bombs?"

"Yes."

"Did you want to kill Aurors and Hit-Wizards?"

"Yes. Ambush them. Make them pay for William's brother."

Brenda frowned. "What happened to his brother?"

"He was murdered by Aurors."

"Killed while resisting arrest," Martin whispered.

Brenda nodded. That was more likely. "Was everyone in your group at the shop?"

"No. Liz and Marc stayed back. They didn't want to come." Milton pouted. "Liz said she was sticking to casting mudholes. As if mudholes did much!"

Brenda smiled. Two more suspects. "Where are Liz and Marc?"

"In our safe house, in London."

The muggle address didn't ring any bell, but Brenda noted it down. They'd find it. And they'd find the other two mudbloods. She had the mudblood list all the names and addresses of the other group members, to confirm that no one had escaped from the shop, and questioned her about the layout of the house, before she remembered something. "Did Liz cast those mudholes at the shop?"

"No. She taught us how to, though. She started the mudholes."

Brenda smiled. That would be a high-profile arrest!

Her good mood didn't last long though. While they were making plans to search the addresses they had received, Martin wondered out loud: "Do you think there are more like them? More mudbloods preparing to attack purebloods?"

"Merlin's Balls!" Parkinson looked shocked. "If this is just the beginning…"

Suddenly, having created the Avengers didn't look like it had been a good idea anymore.

*****​

London, Bromley, December 14th, 1996

At three o'clock in the morning, even a muggle neighbourhood was quiet, without pedestrians on the streets, Brenda Brocktuckle noted with satisfaction - there would be no need to deal with witnesses. The street the mudbloods lived in was broader than she had expected as well - and cars lined both sides, in front of small gardens.

"I don't detect any wards," Martin said, standing next to her.

"The mudblood told us that they had no wards," Parkinson said.

"I know." Brenda's partner frowned. "But it makes no sense. Why would they leave themselves open to any attack?"

"For their television and computers." Brenda couldn't understand why that was worth sacrificing your safety, but as long as it made her task easier, she'd not complain. "Now focus - we'll enter from both back and front. Take the two mudbloods inside down. The Hit-Wizards will prevent any escape attempts." She'd have sent the Hit-Wizards in, if not for the fact that the friends of the two targets had killed over half a dozen of them, and Brenda feared that the Hit-Wizards with her wouldn't be too careful when fighting the mudbloods.

Parkinson and Martin nodded, as did Peter Selwyn, the leader of the Hit-Wizards with them. They moved up to the house next to their target. The lights were on in the house - the mudbloods were probably waiting for their friends. Parkinson went through the garden to the back, Brenda and Martin covered the front. The four Hit-Wizards surrounded the house, two of them on brooms. When they signalled that the Anti-Apparition Jinxes were set, Brenda cast a Silencing Charm on the door, then blew it up. Martin stormed inside, and she rushed after him.

No one was in the living room though, despite the lights burning. Parkinson appeared in the hallway. "Kitchen's empty."

They searched the other rooms, but found no one. Martin pointed at an open armoire, with clothes strewn out on the floor. "Looks like someone packed hastily."

"They've fled." Parkinson growled. "We were too slow."

"We struck as fast as possible," Brenda said. "The two fugitives must have expected this."

"Merlin's balls! What if this is a trap?" Parkinson looked around. "We need to get out before they blow up the house!"

Brenda shook her head. "I doubt there is a bomb - they can't know if their friends have been captured, or simply delayed." She saw Martin's and Parkinson's expression, and frowned. "Let's leave anyway." There was no reason to stay, after all.

On the way out, she repaired the door. At Parkinson's questioning gaze, she explained: "They might come back, to check if their friends have returned. We can catch them then."

"Unless they are watching the house right now," Martin cut in.

Brenda shrugged. "It's worth a try." She'd send a few rookies to stake it out.

She informed the Hit-Wizards, and told them to hide and watch, until relieved, before she apparated back to the Ministry. She had a lot of paperwork to do still.

*****​

Hogwarts, December 14th, 1996

'Muggleborn Murderers Arrested!'

When Harry Potter saw the headline of the Daily Prophet delivered during breakfast, he felt for a moment as if his heart had stopped beating. Had the Ministry caught Hermione? He skimmed the article, with Ron reading over his shoulder.

The article didn't offer much information. Muggleborns had attacked a shop in Diagon Alley, killed several Hit-Wizards with bombs before being overwhelmed. Two were arrested, the rest were killed.

"Blimey!" Ron whispered, even after casting a privacy spell. "If they had caught Hermione, they'd announce it, wouldn't they? We'd have been told so too, right?"

"Yes," Harry said, trying to convince himself as much as his best friend. He looked at the staff table, where Dumbledore was seated. The old wizard smiled at him. That was reassuring. Or should be. Legilimency would be really handy right now, to communicate with the Headmaster.

Around them speculation was running rampant. Harry heard Hermione's name mentioned a few times.

"Look at MacLaggen," Ron said. "He's smiling."

Harry looked down the table. Ron was right - the Gryffindor was smiling while reading the article. That bigot was probably hoping that Hermione had been arrested, he thought. He wanted to curse the git, but controlled himself. Mostly. "Hey, MacLaggen!" he yelled. "What's so funny?"

MacLaggen jerked, panic briefly visible on his face, before he glanced at Harry. "Nothing."

Harry glared at him. "Nothing, huh?" He fingered his wand.

The other student glanced at the staff table. He looked rather nervous now. "Nothing."

Harry snorted and pointed his wand down the table. MacLaggen gasped and threw himself off the bench.

"Accio breadbasket," Harry said, snickering.

MacLaggen glared at him while Ron and many of the other Gryffindors snickered and laughed until the student had left the table.

"What an idiot," Ron said, shaking his head. "But he has learned his lesson. Malfoy would have been in our face, gloating."

Harry sighed. "Yes." The news of Malfoy's death - his execution - had come as quite the surprise. And a bit of a shock. In hindsight, he should have expected this - Malfoy had been too stupid and rash to survive in the war - but still… when Hermione had told him how the git had died… He shuddered.

"You don't miss him, do you?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. He wasn't quite serious, Harry knew, but not entirely joking either.

"No, just… Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, well… they were almost part of Hogwarts." Harry refilled his cup. "Their visits in the train were almost a ritual. And now they're dead. Gone."

"Good riddance," Ron said. "The world's a better place without him - you know what Hermione told us. What he had done."

Harry nodded. "Yes. It's just… it sort of made me realise, really realise, that things will never be the same. Not at Hogwarts, not in Britain." He took a deep breath. "At first, I thought we'd return things to how they were. Before Voldemort. But we can't. And we shouldn't. We should make things better."

Ron looked at Harry as if that had been obvious to him. He didn't say anything, though.

*****​

Hogwarts, December 14th, 1996

"I can assure you that the muggleborns mentioned in the article were not members of Miss Granger's group." Albus Dumbledore smiled at Harry and Mister Weasley.

"Thank you, Headmaster!" Harry, sitting in front of Albus's desk, looked relieved. "We didn't want to use the mirror, not if there was another way… in case the Ministry had it."

"That would have been bad," Mister Weasley added.

"Indeed," Albus agreed. If the boys' close contact with the Resistance were revealed, or, even worse, his own, the consequences would be dire.

"So… how much of what's written in the article is true, sir?" Harry asked.

"The article exaggerates the events a bit, but is more or less correct. Two muggleborns were arrested, five were killed. Six Hit-Wizards were killed as well, and more were hurt." Kingsley had already informed him in the morning.

"Blimey!" Mister Weasley shook his head. "Even with the bombs, that must have been a fight."

"By all accounts, it was," Albus said.

"Who were the muggleborns then? Do we know them?"

"I do not think so." The Headmaster shook his head. He knew them, of course - as he knew almost all younger wizards and witches in Britain - from their time at Hogwarts.

Once again the two boys looked relieved, though they were trying to hide their reaction. Albus didn't begrudge them for it - it was just natural to care more for friends and family than strangers. "I hope thus reassured, you can now focus once more on your lessons," he added with a faint smile.

"Speaking of lessons, sir," Mister Weasley said, "I've decided to join Harry for Legilimency training."

"Very well, Mister Weasley. I will inform you as soon as I have arranged the first lesson." The boy didn't say why he had taken this decision, and Albus didn't ask. What mattered was that Harry would have a good friend at his side during those lessons. This would help him greatly. He smiled gently. "But I think you should now enjoy your weekend."

The boys glanced and each other, then nodded. Albus was certain they'd meet or at least talk to Miss Granger later. Ah, youth!

Once he was alone again in his office, Albus sighed as he glanced at the Daily Prophet on his desk, his eyes taking in the pictures of the devastated shop and street. After the 'Avengers', this seemed to be another muggleborn group following Miss Granger's example, although with far less success than the two others. All but two had been killed in the fight, together with half a dozen Hit-Wizards, which presented him with a serious problem.

The dead were not much of a problem. As cynical as it sounded, the muggleborns had killed enough Hit-Wizards to counter the Ministry's attempt to paint this as a great victory in their fight against the Muggleborn Resistance. Especially if Albus let the right people know that these muggleborns had not actually been members of the feared Resistance. That two of them had escaped would help check the Death Eaters attempts to use this to influence others at the Ministry as well.

No, the problem he was facing was what to do about the two survivors who had been arrested. If they went to trial they would be executed. That was a certainty. Tom's supporters in the Wizengamot might not be in the majority anymore, but neither were Albus's allies, and those outside both camps were quite firm in their stance towards 'muggleborn murderers'.

However, Albus could save the two. That was, if not a certainty, a very likely result of the preparations he had made after Martin Cokes had been executed. But in doing this, he would also compromise his resources, which would prevent him from repeating this feat, should one or more members of the Resistance be arrested in the future. He had alternatives in mind, but those would run a high risk of exposing his own involvement.

Could he let those two muggleborns die just so he retained the ability to save others? He leaned back in his seat, sighing again. Fawkes trilled and flew from his perch to land in his lap, butting his head against his hand. He stroke the bird's plumage, pondering his dilemma. To weigh one life against another - two, in this case - was not a moral thing to do. All life was precious. And yet, he had done it before, and would have to do it again - such was the burden of a leader during war.

Maybe he should inform Miss Granger. Ask her if he should save the two arrested muggleborns, at the cost of future rescue attempts. Let her decide. Albus shook his head. No, he would not stoop so low as to dump this terrible decision on the young witch. It was his responsibility, and he would live up to it.

And, even though he hated to admit it, his decision was clear. The Muggleborn Resistance had proven invaluable in the war against Voldemort. Their admittedly brutal means had cost the Dark Lord dozens of his most powerful supporters, and the fear they had caused among the purebloods had both preserved and increased his own influence on the Ministry. They were skilled, determined, brave, and Miss Granger had proved that she would not tolerate crimes and atrocities from her own.

On the other hand this new group of muggleborns hadn't struck at Death Eaters, but at purebloods. And while it was understandable that they would strike at those purebloods who had profited from the muggleborns' misery, they had deliberately tried to kill as many Hit-Wizards and Aurors they could - and succeeded in part. That was, again, understandable, given the role of the Ministry forces in enforcing the unjust laws that oppressed muggleborns, but Albus was certain that it would also strengthen the Dark Lord's support in the Wizengamot, for little gain. But most importantly: this new group had failed. They had proved that they were neither as skilled and trained as the resistance, nor as careful in planning their attacks. They had lost most of their strength already after their first attack.

Seen objectively, the Resistance was simply more valuable to the war effort, which would mean less victims in the long run. Albus hated himself for it, but he would not save the two muggleborns. Unless of course Miss Granger asked him to - her cooperation and trust was worth it.

But he didn't think she would.

*****​

London, East End, December 14th, 1996

Hermione Granger stared at the newspaper during lunch, studying the pictures. 'Muggleborn Murderers Arrested!'?

"Someone's copying us!" Seamus exclaimed. "Look at the damage to the street!"

"They were caught, though," Justin said. "Two arrested, the rest killed."

"That's the Prophet. Can't trust it." Dean shook his head. "They'd claim we were all dead should we stub a toe during a fight."

Hermione pursed her lips. She didn't think that sort of comment was appropriate, given what had happened to the Creeveys. She didn't say anything, though - she wouldn't start an argument over it. Instead, she tapped the picture of the crater in the street. "Seamus, what's your estimate of the amount of explosive they used there? It was hidden in a mudhole, according to the article."

The Irish wizard peered at the picture, frowning. "Hm… it's not a good angle. Not enough I'd say, though - some Hit-Wizards survived!" He chuckled at his own comment.

Hermione ignored that as well. She'd work out the amount used for herself then. "They used bombs, but not efficiently, and they were trapped in the shop by the Aurors. They didn't have lookouts then, and had no escape route prepared. With brooms, they might have escaped."

"Poor planning," Justin summed up.

Hermione nodded. She felt more than a bit guilty - if the muggleborns mentioned in the article had attacked that shop because of the Resistance's example, and the leaflets and broadcasts, then she was at least partially responsible.

"They still gave as good as they got, more or less," Seamus said. "We should tell people how to build better bombs in the next broadcast."

"And how to plan attacks better," Dean added. "Some tactics, too."

Hermione didn't wince, though she felt like. "I don't think we can really teach anyone that through a broadcast." And she didn't think the British government would appreciate muggleborns blowing themselves up making explosives - or stealing them. Before Dean or Seamus could protest, she continued: "What we can do is to tell people to prepare carefully and extensively before going off to fight. To train, and plan, and consider their actions."

"Do you think they'll be able to train well enough?" Sally-Anne was frowning.

Hermione sighed. "The goal is to keep them training instead of attacking some random purebloods. Our enemies are the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters. Not some hat shop in Diagon Alley."

"Not everyone has mysterious contacts who tell them the locations of Death Eaters," Dean said.

"Don't fire if you're not certain of your target," Hermione quoted. "We're not at war with all purebloods."

"Says you," Seamus muttered. "Most of them support the Ministry or the Death Eaters."

"Or both," Dean added.

"And if muggleborns start attacking random civilians for being purebloods, they'll just drive more to join Voldemort." Hermione shook her head. "They'd also be not much better than Death Eaters themselves."

"It's not as if we can order them around." Dean shrugged.

"Well, we could use the broadcasts, but the Ministry and the Dark Lord would be listening in as well," Sally-Anne said.

Hermione smiled at her. "We can use the broadcasts to give them general advice. Make them focus on keeping safe, and protecting themselves. But we'd have to give out a huge number of targets to prevent the enemy from using our own broadcasts to ambush muggleborns."

"Well, there're lots of targets in the Wizengamot," John pointed out.

"All of them are hiding, though," Mary said.

"We need to recruit more." Louise was looking at Hermione. "And we need to find a way to contact the other muggleborn groups."

Hermione winced. "I know. But contacting prospective recruits is difficult, and sounding them out is slow. I've thought of broadcasting an e-mail address, but our enemies would use it to try and infiltrate or ambush us."

"I've been contacted by two older Hufflepuffs," Justin said. "Through e-mail. But I don't know if they are purebloods impersonating them, or under duress."

Hermione felt both angry and hurt that Justin hadn't told her this before, but told herself she was not exactly telling him everything she was up to either. Still, she would have expected him to mention it.

"We should risk it," Seamus said. "We can always prepare an ambush of our own."

"And make the government think we're a terrorist group?" Tania scoffed. "That's stupid."

Hermione cut in before things escalated. "We'll do what we can to recruit more and get in contact with other groups, but our security takes priority." She pressed her lips together. "I don't want anyone else getting cursed like Colin and Dennis."

She also didn't want other muggleborns turning this conflict into a war against purebloods. But she was not certain she could prevent that. Even if she wanted to tell people not to fight, she doubted everyone would listen.

For now, though, she had to contact Harry and Ron. To tell them that she was fine, and to arrange a meeting. She needed their help.

*****​

London, Soho, December 14th, 1996

Ron Weasley was constantly keeping an eye on his surroundings while he and Harry walked towards the café where they were meeting Hermione. A few months ago, he'd have done so because he hadn't been in this area before, and there were quite a few sights to take in. But now he was doing it because Moody had trained him and Harry to always be on their guard.

Hermione, in disguise - black hair this time, straight and shoulder length, was already waiting for them at a table. It was a good location. Both the entrance in front and the backdoor were visible from there, as well as most of the street while a potted plant shielded the table some... Ron shook his head.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I just realised I've been thinking a bit too much like Moody." He snorted.

"Oh," his friend said. "Right. Constant Vigilance!" Harry added in a low voice in a passable imitation of their demanding and more than a bit paranoid teacher.

Both were chuckling when they reached the table. Hermione stood to greet them, her smile looking slightly puzzled. She was, Ron noticed, wearing a turtleneck and jeans, both tighter than he had expected or remembered. Not that he was complaining. She hugged Harry, then him, and he had to resist the temptation to run his hands down her back when he felt her body pressed against his. He wanted to keep hugging her. Keep her with him. Safe. The moment he had feared that she had been arrested had been one of the worst in his life. Far too quickly they separated, and took their seats.

All of them cast privacy spells after their orders had arrived - you couldn't be too cautious with them. Ron sipped his soda - another brand he hadn't tried before today - in the sudden silence.

"So... do you know who those muggleborns were who attacked in Diagon Alley?" Harry asked. Which was, Ron thought, a less blunt way of asking if those had been friends of hers.

Hermione put her teacup down before answering. "No, I don't. None of the others know them either. I think they were just a bunch of muggleborns who decided to fight." She frowned. "I should have emphasised planning and preparing, in our broadcasts. Maybe they'd not have been caught then."

"It's not your fault," Ron said. He almost reached out and patted her hand, but grabbed his glass instead. "They should have known better."

Judging by her impression, she didn't share his opinion, but she nodded at least. "I hope that their fate will make others hold off launching similar attacks. If this turns into muggleborns attacking random purebloods…"

Ron winced. That would be a disaster.

"But what can you do?" Harry asked.

"Not much." Their friend pressed her lips together in a familiar manner. She was frustrated, Ron knew - he had caused that same expression in the past. "We could send them against some known Death Eaters or sympathisers, but that would only make them run into ambushes and traps."

"That might be better than have them attack innocents," Ron said. His family was pureblood as well, after all.

Hermione nodded, though he thought it was a bit reluctantly. "I'll emphasise that we are not at war with purebloods, but Death Eaters. Hopefully the more eager will take this to heart."

Ron didn't think it would help much. "You need to organise the others. Those Avengers as well."

She frowned at him. "That's easier said than done. It's not as if we can simply call them up and give out orders. Not with the Ministry and the Death Eaters looking for us. Any contact could be an imperiused trap."

"The Dark Lord has a big advantage there. Groups like Malfoy's are under his command, whether they know it or not," Harry pointed out, which earned him a frown as well.

Ron didn't quite smile, but he felt better knowing he wasn't the only one making their friend mad. Hermione had told them about Malfoy's interrogation, and the others. Fred and George hadn't wanted to talk about the girls, though.

"Which means attacks on other purebloods will help the Dark Lord recruit even more into his ranks," Hermione said. "Not that many understand that. Not even among the Resistance!"

Ron glanced at Harry. That sounded like their friend was having some trouble. "Dean and Seamus?" He had heard about them before, after all.

Her scowl was answer enough, even if she stuck to not complaining about her group, or not too much. "I know that we can't really avoid driving more into Voldemort's arms when we kill his Death Eaters, but we shouldn't go out of our way to do it."

"Good riddance to them!" Ron said. "If they join the Dark Lord, they're scum anyway." They had attacked the Burrow, ready to kill his family. He had no sympathy for Malfoy's friends.

"Well, you can take them prisoner," Harry pointed out.

"Keeping prisoners requires a lot of guards and effort. We can't afford that."

"Dumbledore can," Harry said. "He's keeping Nott, Greengrass and Davis, isn't he?"

"Yes. But those are special cases," Hermione said. "Rich heirs. He's planning to drain them of their gold, and hobble their proxies in the Wizengamot. I doubt he would do that for every Death Eater."

"No need to keep anyone a prisoner when they'll be executed anyway - or would, if we hadn't so many Death Eaters in the Wizengamot." Ron had heard enough about the court from his parents to know how things stood at the Ministry.

His two friends looked grim, but didn't contradict him while all of them sipped their drinks.

Hermione broke the silence. "I have a favour to ask of you."

"Sure thing," Ron said, at the same time Harry said: "Of course."

Ron saw Hermione smile briefly, then she went on: "Colin and Dennis were cursed, as you know, and they want the affected limbs amputated."

Ron hissed. That was… Merlin's arse! They wanted their limbs cut off?

Harry winced, obviously sharing his thoughts.

Hermione slowly nodded. "I hope we find a way to help them before it comes to that, but… I need to know about magical prosthetics. And if they can be fitted to stumps left by muggle doctors."

Ron felt rather sick at imagining that, but Hermione needed his help. "You want us to ask Moody?"

"Only if the Headmaster agrees. I was thinking of Bill. He's a Curse-Breaker, isn't he?"

"Yes. One of the best," Ron said. Bill was, as far as he knew, too. "He might know how to deal with the curse. But he might need to see the effect for himself." He bit his lips, then added: "And, he probably knows about amputations and prosthetics as well. Those curses in tombs can be nasty." There was a reason mum had exploded when he had told them what he'd do after Hogwarts.

"Thank you."

Hermione smiled at him, and Ron once again almost reached out to take her hand. But they weren't on a date. Which reminded him. "We should go on another set of dates."

"Yes," Harry quickly said.

Hermione looked surprised, then nodded slowly. "If we have time."

"Yes, of course." Ron knew that the question was if Hermione could take two evenings off.

Given how the war was going, he feared that might not be the case.

*****​

London, Soho, December 14th, 1996

Harry Potter was jealous. He didn't like it, but he couldn't help it. Ron was just too smooth. Proposing another set of dates, offering to ask his big, cool brother Bill for help with the dark curses that had struck Dennis and Colin, complimenting Hermione…

Harry finished his sandwich and refilled his glass. Ron was his best friend. They had gone through so much together. Harry trusted him with his life, and he was certain Ron trusted him with his. It was very selfish of him to hope that Ron would anger Hermione, like he used to. Maybe he would make some ignorant remark about muggles - Harry was the muggle-raised here - or something about Quidditch being better than any muggle sports.

But no… Ron was just being nice, even thoughtful. Where was the Ron from first year? Brave, but not that charming? He just needed his ear pierced for a dragon fang, and a leather jacket, and he'd be another Bill. Well, maybe not that smooth. Still too smooth in Harry's opinion though.

"I wish we could do more for you," he said, changing the topic. "We're safe at Hogwarts and you're risking your life."

"You're training to defeat the Dark Lord, and you're risking your life deceiving him about Dumbledore's actual plan." Hermione pursed her lips. "You don't have any reason to feel guilty, or as if you're not doing enough."

"We haven't received our next mission yet," Ron cut in.

"It just feels as if we could do more." Harry sighed.

Hermione shook her head, but she seemed to suppress a smile. "You're doing more than enough. You're the key to defeating Voldemort. Honestly, it's already a risk to let you play decoy."

Now it was his turn to frown. "I'm not going to hide at Hogwarts while you risk your lives."

Ron wisely didn't say anything.

"We're playing it as safe as we can." Hermione raised her chin slightly.

"Which is not that safe," Harry retorted. "The Ministry and the Death Eaters are hunting you."

The witch opened her mouth, then pressed her lips together before answering. "We're being careful, and working closely with the Headmaster."

Harry kept himself from saying that that wasn't a guarantee. He didn't want to make his friend angry. Angrier. Instead he sighed. "I just worry. What if it's you next time on the Prophet's front page? Or," he added, a second later, "your friends?"

She had noticed his slight pause, and was frowning again. Harry mentally cursed - this wasn't his day. "We're planning and preparing far more than this other group, and we've taken precautions for such a case."

Harry wanted to ask what kind of precautions, but he didn't think pressing the issue was a good idea. "Well, that makes me feel a bit better. I still worry, though."

"Me too," Ron added.

Hermione huffed, but she was smiling again. "Honestly! If I made such a fuss each time you do something dangerous…"

"Well, you usually do," Harry said.

Ron chuckled, and Hermione glared at him again. But the tense mood was gone.

*****​

Hogwarts, December 14th, 1996

He had blown that meeting, Harry Potter thought. He should have been more supportive. Less patronising. Sirius had told him how James had just infuriated Lily when he had tried to act protective. But he hadn't been able to help it - he hated the thought of Hermione fighting while he stayed safe. Although he wasn't certain if he hated himself not doing much more than her risking her life. Which was another of his faults.

"Do you think she'll have time for dating?"

Ron's question shook Harry out of his rather morbid thoughts. He turned his head to glance at his friend as they were walking through the tunnel from Hogsmeade. He shrugged. "If anyone can make the time, she'll be able to."

"If she wants to make the time," Ron said. "She might also feel she can't have fun while others are suffering."

Harry nodded. That fit Hermione. She obviously had had fun on the last dates - more so with Ron, though - so she could expect to have fun again. Harry would have to make a greater effort, though, if he wanted to stay in the running. Maybe he could ask… who could he ask, apart from Sirius? Remus wasn't a good choice. The man hadn't had a date in decades. If only Harry had some cool older brothers to ask for advice!

Ron sighed. "Damn war!"

The two continued in silence for a bit. Before they reached the hidden exit though, Ron turned to Harry. "I just wanted to say… if she picks one of us, then I don't want that to change anything between us, you know? The important thing is that she is happy." His friend blinked. "Shite! I sound like a wizard from those novels Ginny reads."

Harry didn't know what novels Ginny read, but he nodded. "Yes. I won't be exactly happy if she picks you, but… as long as you make her happy I can deal with it." He had better get used to this, Harry thought. Sirius had said to play to his strengths, as if Hermione was interested in Quidditch, or was a fan of the Boy-Who-Lived. Or wanted gold.

Ron was frowning. "Mate, I need you to promise me something. If Hermione somehow picks me, don't do anything stupid, alright? If you go and sacrifice yourself in the war, it'd destroy her. She'd blame herself for it, you know."

Harry hissed. He hadn't exactly planned on such a thing, but… he had thought, guiltily, that it would simplify things if one of them died in the war. A dead hero, remembered fondly by the surviving couple…

"Harry?" Ron grabbed his shoulders.

He took a deep breath and tried to sound as if he had never even thought of that. "I promise - if you do the same."

"It's a deal, then."

They shook on it.

*****​

London, Ministry of Magic, December 14th, 1996

"There you are, Auror Brocktuckle. I've read your report about your latest arrest." Bones said as soon as Brenda Brocktuckle entered the office of the Head of the DMLE.

Brenda saw Scrimgeour standing next to Bones's desk. The Head Auror was frowning, which was rather normal for him, but she thought he looked even less happy than usual. "Yes, ma'am." She stood straight.

"The Minister was disappointed that those suspects were not involved in the murder of Malfoy." Bones was frowning, and Brenda suspected that Fudge had suggested to find evidence to that effect. The Minister was known for such attempts to fit facts to politics. Fortunately, both Bones and Scrimgeour were not the kind of people to bow to such pressure - or succumb to temptation.

"I hoped so myself," Brenda said, "but the results of the interrogations were clear. We're dealing with a new group who followed the example of the Resistance, influenced by their propaganda."

"And by the example of the Avengers." Bones added. "I gather they were even more convincing than we expected."

Scrimgeour stood just a bit straighter, while Brenda winced. Neither of them had foreseen that particular effect. Stupid mudbloods!

"But there has been no contact with the Resistance yet, despite this." Bones narrowed her eyes. "The Minister was quite disappointed about that as well." When Brenda took a sharp breath, the older witch held her hand up. "He is not aware of this particular operation."

Brenda relaxed again. If Fudge had been informed about her undercover operation, half the Wizengamot would probably know it a day later.

"But he is correct - the goal of this operation is to infiltrate and eliminate the Resistance, not to incite even more unrest among the muggleborn population." Bones leaned forward. "I hope you have a plan, Auror Brocktuckle."

Brenda swallowed. She had a plan, or rather an idea. "Contacting the Resistance has been more difficult than expected. They address their supporters through the wireless broadcasts, but they do not seem to listen to anyone. Purvis and Rickett have been telling their muggleborn contacts that they would like to coordinate their efforts with the Resistance, but no one has known how to. But the arrest of this new group gives us a chance." Bones was still frowning. "Although I think that the Avengers have to strike once more, and spectacularly, for this to work. And," she hastened to add, "they'll need a broadcast of their own."

Scrimgeour was glaring at her - with good reason. She hadn't cleared or even discussed this with him. But Bones had put her on the spot, and Brenda could not afford to disappoint the Head of the DMLE, not with her career already in jeopardy.

Bones ran a finger over her chin. "I see. You plan to present the Avengers as serious competition for the Resistance. A group they cannot ignore, not without risking fragmenting the muggleborns or losing a lot of their influence."

"Yes, ma'am."

The older witch remained silent for a while. Brenda didn't fidget, but she wanted to. Scrimgeour, though, simply remained as he was.

Finally, Bones spoke again: "Alright. I don't like it, but it's the most promising plan we have."

That was a rather bad sign of the state of the Ministry, Brenda thought.

The Head of the DMLE continued: "And the Wizengamot, especially the proxies of Greengrass, Nott and Davis, are raising a lot of support to save the kidnapped before they too are murdered."

Or to see them get killed as a reaction, Brenda added, cynically, to herself. She had some experience with that sort of pureblood family.

"Now… what kind of spectacular attack did you have in mind, Auror?" Bones stared at her.

"In my opinion, no attack on anything will ever equal the destruction of Malfoy Manor," Brenda began. It wasn't as if they could let the undercover Aurors kill anyone, anyway. "So I feel that rescuing the arrested suspects from the Diagon Alley attack seems the best way to impress the Resistance." Scrimgeour gasped, and Brenda knew that but for Bones's presence, he would be screaming at her and wonder if she had lost her mind. Bones had grown rigid, but hadn't said anything yet. "The Resistance has lost one member, Martin Cokes, who was arrested and executed. They were not able to free him. If the Avengers can do that, then the Resistance is likely to contact them just because of that."

"And allow us to ambush them." Bones nodded. "I'll authorise this - provided you can ensure that the arrested suspects will not escape for good."

Brenda met her eyes. "For that, I'd need special authorisation, ma'am."

Bones stiffened. Brenda knew she was asking for a lot. Special authorisation. Permission to use the Unforgivables. The last time this had been granted to Aurors had been in the last war - which many had started to call the First Blood War. But the Auror didn't see any other way to ensure that the freed suspects would not actually escape, no matter how the mission went.

"The Minister is likely to grant this, but there will be resistance in the Wizengamot," Bones said. "But if this goes through your plan is approved. Dismissed, Auror."

Brenda knew Scrimgeour would be making his displeasure with her going over his head known as soon as he left Bones's office as well, but she didn't care too much. Her plan might have been a bit improvised, but it was a valid one.

And having the authorisation to use the Unforgivables wouldn't hurt either. At least not the Ministry.

*****​

Hogsmeade, December 15th, 1996

Ron Weasley was once again sneaking into the Hog's Head Inn, but he wasn't cutting classes for it, this time. His brother was already seated at a table in the back, flirting with the waitress. Ron shook his head. Bill was just too smooth. Too handsome. Too cool.

"Hello, Bill." He slid into the seat opposite his oldest brother, startling the witch - she apparently hadn't noticed him. Or anyone else but Bill.

"Ron!" Bill smiled at him, then nodded at the waitress. "A butterbeer for my brother."

When the waitress had left, Ron sighed. He'd like to rib Bill a little, ask if Fleur knew he was flirting with other witches, but he'd rather not provoke his brother into pranking him when he needed his help - the twins had learned from someone, after all.

"Girl trouble?" Bill raised an eyebrow.

"Sort of," Ron said.

Both waited to cast privacy spells until their order had been served - a butterbeer for Ron; no point in asking for a soda here, and a pint for Bill.

"You've heard about Malfoy?"

Bill nodded. "Yes. Serves the little Death Eater right - he was among those who attacked the Burrow."

"Yes. I've heard that two of those who captured him were hit with dark curses. Shriveled up the limb hit, or rather, the limbs withered. Leathery skin, over bones." Ron took out a few pictures Hermione had given him, and slid them over to Bill. He avoided looking at them - the thought of such a limb dangling from his own body was sickening.

Bill, though, was not affected. He studied the pictures. "It might be a variant of the Living Mummy Curse - which, contrary to the name, kills you once it is done - but I doubt it. That curse doesn't start with a single limb. Nor does it stop there."

"The Headmaster thinks it might be a curse from a Houngan," Ron said. He didn't like the wince that caused.

"That's bad news. We don't have any contacts with houngans. Gringotts does do business with them through intermediaries, but they keep their Curse-Breakers out of the Caribbean." Bill rubbed his chin. "Although we've had some encounters with African curses, when we went after the Upper Nile Tombs."

"What do African wizards have to do with this?" Ron didn't know much about African Wizards. He knew most of them had been killed when the ICW had intervened, after they had used magic against the muggle colonies.

"Houngans have their roots in Africa," Bill explained.

"Oh." That probably explained why the ICW came down so harshly on Africa, Ron thought. "So… do you think you can help there?"

Bill sighed. "I don't know. I'll ask around - but I'll have to be careful."

Ron knew that - the Death Eaters would know what curses they had used, and if Bill happened to ask for cures to such… hopefully, the caster of that curse had been killed in the fighting. "Of course." He took a deep breath. "Also… in case there is no cure, what do you know about magical prosthetics?"

Bill looked grim. "A few of my colleagues have them. They're better than nothing, but… it's not the same. If you lose your wand arm, you'll have a better chance to learn casting with your off-hand than to use a prosthetic. And you'll not run very well with a peg leg, enchanted or not."

Ron had expected that - he knew that Moody would be even more impressive and terrifying if he hadn't lost his leg. "They are looking for people who make them." After a second, he added: "And for people who can, you know, remove the withered limbs without doing more damage."

Bill nodded. "I have a few addresses. I assume British locations are out."

"Yes." Ron confirmed that. "Thank you."

"No problem, Ron. Though that doesn't really explain the 'sort of' girl troubles you mentioned."

"Ah." Ron frowned. "We might go on another date, if we have the time. And I need a few more tips."

Bill's smiled widely. "Ah, you're in luck! I've just had the most wonderful date with Fleur."

Yes, Ron thought, his brother was just too damn smooth. And too damn lucky.

*****​

London, Ministry of Magic, December 15th, 1996

Albus Dumbledore didn't know why Cornelius had called a special session of the Wizengamot. The death of Draco Malfoy, and the kidnapping of Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis might be the reason - though Albus hadn't thought the Minister would want to face their families in the Wizengamot, not after his attempt to claim the arrested muggleborns had been part of that attack had not succeeded. On the other hand, the mere fact that he didn't know the reason told him something, and he'd be able to deduce more once it was revealed.

The chamber was almost full now, the last members who had been talking outside were filing in. Sirius was looking bored, though Albus knew it was an act. Augustus Malfoy looked angry - though whether it was due to the death of Draco Malfoy, the loss of face the manner of his death and the subsequent revelations had caused, or because this was probably his last session, Albus didn't know. Eric Greengrass walked stiffly - the man was barely holding together, Albus knew; he had been heard screaming with rage at an Auror when told there was no trace of his niece. Cressida Davis was holding up better, or so it looked like. Albus didn't feel guilty about causing them pain; they would get their relative back after the war, and they had been supporting the Dark Lord, knowingly or not. He had even less sympathy for Thaddeus Nott. Theodore Nott had been almost as bad as Draco Malfoy; Albus doubted that the young wizard would live to see the end of the war, unless a truly fair trial could be organised.

Cornelius arrived, at last. The Minister was putting up a good front - he was a talented politician - but Albus knew he was very stressed, under pressure from all sides, including Albus himself. Once again, the Headmaster didn't feel any guilt for adding to the Minister's burden - if not for his foolish policies, they would not be at this point.

He looked around. Everyone was seated now. Time to begin. "The chair recognises the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge."

Cornelius stood up, cleared his throat, and started to speak. His voice didn't show his stress. "Honoured members of the Wizengamot! I have called for this session in response to the events of the last week. One heir of a seat in this very chamber has been murdered, three more have been kidnapped. A few days ago, a band of muggleborn criminals attacked a shop in Diagon Alley, killing several of our Hit-Wizards in the ensuing battle before they were overcome."

Murmurs greeted his words. Most members already knew about this - Albus doubted anyone had missed the news - but they still had to whisper to each other.

"It is clear that the Ministry's forces are strained. Artificially so - for while their enemies use the most vile tactics, and dark spells, they are prohibited from using the most effective spells to fight for law and order."

That caused the whispers to increase in volume. Albus started to frown - he knew where this was leading. Cornelius's predecessor had used almost exactly the same words for her proposal, back in the last war.

"Once before the Ministry was in a similar situation, in 1980. And the Wizengamot stepped in, and solved it. I hence propose the same solution: To pass a bill that authorises the Ministry's Aurors and Hit-Wizards to use the Unforgivable Curses for the duration of the current crisis."

Yells and exclamations drowned out the Minister's closing words as the members of the Wizengamot voiced their opinions of this proposal. Albus let them vent for a bit, then flicked his wand. An amplified giong cut through the cacophony of voices. "This is the Wizengamot. As tradition dictates, we will debate any proposal in a civilised manner." A few had the grace to flinch at his admonishment. "The chair recognises Madam Bones."

Albus sat back while Amelia explained why this authorisation was needed, in her opinion. The witch was up to something, he knew that. She wanted at least one of those spells available to her department, but which one? Not the Torture Curse, that was obvious. And the Killing Curse, while infamous, was not quite as crucial in battle as many thought - plenty of spells were nearly as deadly, but not forbidden. It had to be the Imperius Curse then. And she hadn't contacted him beforehand, to secure his support, which meant she didn't think she could portray this as a move against Voldemort - and thought she could get a majority. He almost smiled. The conclusion was obvious - this was aimed at the Resistance. The Ministry was planning to use the Imperius against them.

And, he added, listening to Eric Greengrass, she might very well get her way. The proxy for Miss Greengrass was passionately pleading to strengthen the Aurors so no more pureblood witches would fall prey to the barbarian hordes. Many, not just Death Eaters and their friends, were nodding.

Bilius Longbottom stood to oppose the bill, but while his arguments had a lot of merit, he focused on denouncing the Torture Curse, pointing out that there was no discernable reason for that vile spell to be used by anyone. Amelia quickly amended the proposal, removing the authorisation for that spell, to further approval.

Voldemort's supporters drew their clues from Augustus Malfoy, who supported the bill. This caused a few of Albus's friends to oppose it on principle, but not enough. Albus didn't speak up - he was not about to fight a battle he knew he would lose.

But he would inform Miss Granger to be very cautious in the future. And Harry and Mister Weasley. He wouldn't put it past the Ministry to try and use the two boys against the young witch. Harry had shown in the past that he could throw off the Imperius Curse, but Mister Weasley had not shown such mental fortitude.

Albus didn't know if their training could remedy that, but he'd tell Alastor to make the attempt. He was certain Tom would do all he could to exploit the opportunities this presented. And, he thought, maybe a visit to Miss Skeeter was in order. Just to put a bit more pressure on Cornelius.

*****​

London, Ministry of Magic, December 17th, 1996

Brenda Brocktuckle ducked under a protruding pipe on her way through the tunnels under the Ministry. Long, winding, twisted tunnels with ceilings so low, she barely could stand up. Behind her, Martin cursed - he probably had hit his head. He should have been a bit more careful, she thought.

Parkinson chuckled. "Those tunnels are probably made for goblins or elves, not wizards."

"They might have been built by goblins, actually, as part of the settlement of the goblin revolt in 1759," Martin said, ever the Ravenclaw. "The plans we found seem to indicate that."

"If you can call a couple of sketches by a drunk wizard on soiled parchment 'plans'," Parkinson said, scoffing. "I still say we should just frame one of Shacklebolt's team for this. We have the spells to do so, now."

Brenda was tempted to remark that he seemed quite proficient with the Unforgivables, but held her tongue. To divide themselves while hunting the mudbloods would be foolish. Besides, the Ministry just legalised two of the three curses, so they couldn't be that bad. And it would be better if an experienced wizard cast the Imperius on the two Mudbloods, Milton and Smith. They could not afford to mess this up. "You know what Bones ordered. No killing, no framing anyone in the Ministry. This has to look like Purvis and Rickett did it all by themselves, using knowledge gained as Aurors before they quit in protest."

Parkinson grumbled, but didn't complain again as they continued through what was once an escape tunnel. An escape tunnel built by the very species the Ministry had fought the most wars against - Brenda wondered what the Minister who had ordered this had been thinking. Unless it had been a trap aimed at the goblins - they had passed a few old wards that didn't react to wizards or witches.

The tunnel changed direction again, and she sighed. Not even goblins would build something as twisted. It was probably the result of a magical accident during the remodelling. Then she blinked. There was a dead end? Before she could curse the map they had, though, she spotted the outline hidden under dust and dirt. A door, right where it was supposed to be. And if the map was correct, it led straight to the sewers of muggle London.

A spell had the door unlocked, but it took a few repair spells to actually open it - the whole thing had been rusted shut. The stench behind it was the sewers, indeed. Though… Brenda took a step outside, then sighed. "We're in a goblin sewer."

Martin and Parkinson shuddered. She glared at them. "You know our orders: We are to map out the entire route." Besides, a Bubble-Head Charm and a Cleaning Charm would deal with the stench and dirt. Brenda wouldn't let a bit of excrement ruin her career.

Which, she thought, was quite an apt thing to say.

*****​

"I thought dragon dung was a highly valuable fertilisers!" Brenda said, grinding her teeth. "Why are the goblins wasting that by dropping it into the sewers?"

"Not all dragon dung is actually good fertiliser," Martin said. "Some is rather toxic to the soil. There is a subspecies of a…"

"We're wading through poison?" Parkinson cut in, sounding as sick as Brenda felt.

"Not poison, it's just too acidic for most plants," Martin explained.

"Acid?" Parkinson's voice rose another octave.

"Cut it out you two!" Brenda snarled. "We're almost done." She turned to Martin. "Take some of it with you; we might want to use it to make the evidence for this look more authentic."

When she thought of Dawlish having to go through this, with at least half his team, once Purvis and Rickett had finished, she grinned. If only she could install a camera to take a picture! Maybe if she waited in the office… no, her team had to be away from the Ministry when this happened, to not be linked to it.

Dawlish would catch the blame, again. It was just fair - he wasn't catching anything else.

*****​

London, Ministry of Magic, December 19th, 1996

"They entered through an old escape tunnel from 1759, and made their way to the holding cells. They stunned the guard on duty, freed the two suspects, and escaped the same way they had entered."

Albus Dumbledore, sitting on a seat in the Minister's office, was not paying much attention to John Dawlish telling him what he had already read in the report Kingsley had sent him. The breakout of the two arrested muggleborns last night had gone off without a hitch, as far as he could tell. No one hurt, a clean escape.

He would be happy about it, if not for the fact that the Avengers - they had left a big 'A' inside a circle on each cell door - had used the same route he had planned to use should one of Miss Granger's group need to be sprung.

Now he had to prepare an alternative. He had a plan already, but that one was too likely to end up with his involvement made public. A desperate measure. Albus sighed. Dawlish winced. He smiled at the man. Kingsley had also sent him pictures taken of the Auror after his return from the pursuit - Cleaning Charms could only do so much, if not cast expertly. "My apologies - it does not look like this is your fault at all."

"Not everyone shares your view, sir," Dawlish grumbled. "Brocktuckle is livid; the two suspects she arrested escaped."

"This is a catastrophe!" Cornelius said. "Once the public hears of this…" He shook his head. "Unacceptable! This is simply unacceptable!"

"This has to be the work of traitors!" Dawlish said. "They knew exactly where to go."

"Former Aurors or Hit-Wizards, probably," Amelia added. "We'll go through the names of those who left the Ministry in the last year."

"Left, or were forced out," Albus added, smiling softly.

"If they turned traitor it was obviously a good thing they were let go!" Cornelius said, huffing. "Now, we need to discuss how to present this to the public." The Minister glanced at Albus. "We cannot afford to look like fools! Not now, not with both Death Eaters and those muggleborns fighting us!"

The Headmaster smiled, nodding slowly. "Indeed. We cannot have people think that arrested suspects can easily escape from our cells."

Cornelius looked surprised, but Albus knew that the pressure to speed up trials, or skip them altogether and move suspects directly to Azkaban, would only increase should this be publicised in a sensational manner. As would the numbers of suspects killed while resisting arrest.

"But I think the Daily Prophet will show the usual caution in reporting this." They'd better, he thought, or he'd have to visit Rita again.

Albus noticed that Amelia seemed to be slightly annoyed at him, even though she hid it well. He wondered if she was planning to replace Cornelius, and would have liked a scandal to damage his reputation further. Unless there was another reason for her reaction - but why would she want this blown up all over the front page of the Daily Prophet?

*****​

Outside Stamford, Lincolnshire, Britain, December 19th, 1996

The Dark Lord Voldemort checked his appearance again. He wasn't quite used to wearing a mask a if he was one of his own Death Eaters. But if he was recognised tonight, then Dumbledore might be alerted, and this could ruin his plans.

The Headmaster could not know of his presence. Not until it was too late.

*****​

 

[Beyogi]

Oh well, everyone and their mother is plotting and Dumbledore is obviously loosing conrol. But it's kinda hillarious that the Avengers are backfiring on the ministry. That independent cell was ridiculously stupid though. Why the fuck did they hang around instead of using a timer?

That's some serious overconfidence. Never get into a stand up fight if you fight a guerilla war. Maybe Hermione can recommend Chez Guevara for mandatory reading? Though they're more like a city guerilla, so they'd probably need a different approach.

 

[Starfox5]

Oh well, everyone and their mother is plotting and Dumbledore is obviously loosing conrol. But it's kinda hillarious that the Avengers are backfiring on the ministry. That independent cell was ridiculously stupid though. Why the fuck did they hang around instead of using a timer?

That's some serious overconfidence. Never get into a stand up fight if you fight a guerilla war. Maybe Hermione can recommend Chez Guevara for mandatory reading? Though they're more like a city guerilla, so they'd probably need a different approach.

Click to shrink...

The resistance made it look so easy...

 

[qof]

This continues to impress. I'm really looking forward to the auror plot coming to a head. I'm also hoping that all of dumbledore and Hermione's hard work trying to keep the war contained isn't wasted.

 

[Beyogi]

The resistance made it look so easy...

Click to shrink...

The resistance was a bit of an out of context problem for the wizarding world. Something that was possible in theory but never happened before and wasn't anticipated either. So getting the Malfoys and friends wasn't that hard. A repeat performance is all but impossible though. Unless they manage to smuggle explosives in the wizengamot and blow up the blood purist faction.

This continues to impress. I'm really looking forward to the auror plot coming to a head. I'm also hoping that all of dumbledore and Hermione's hard work trying to keep the war contained isn't wasted.

Click to shrink...

I think that's rather unlikely. Things are starting to snowball. A lot of people seem to want a real blood war to even the score or something. They haven't yet hit the point where people got tired of the killing. Pretty much the opposite is the case. They think they're going to be in Paris/Berlin at Christmas while realistically we can expect a drawn out Guerilla war/terrorism between permanently separating societies.

It seems that they're not going to just headcap Voldemort here. Dumbledore seems to be still suffering from the Delusion that this is the just people vs Voldemort's terrorists and those blinded by him. He's probably going to try and delay the conflict so he can slowly take out the Deatheaters. But if the radicalisation of the Muggleborn continues that'll likely fail because they'll force the halfbloods and purebloods to pick sides. Drawing the conflict out will almost certainly only make it escalate. If Dumbledore was smart he'd use his allies to just coup the government and wizengamot for a government of national unity or whatever. Arrest his opponents and install a democracy with strong minority protections. That would pull the carpet out under the violent muggleborn and utterly catch Voldemort and his supporters by surprise. I doubt Tommy could imagine that Dumbledore does something like that.

 

[Starfox5]

The resistance was a bit of an out of context problem for the wizarding world. Something that was possible in theory but never happened before and wasn't anticipated either. So getting the Malfoys and friends wasn't that hard. A repeat performance is all but impossible though. Unless they manage to smuggle explosives in the wizengamot and blow up the blood purist faction.

I think that's rather unlikely. Things are starting to snowball. A lot of people seem to want a real blood war to even the score or something. They haven't yet hit the point where people got tired of the killing. Pretty much the opposite is the case. They think they're going to be in Paris/Berlin at Christmas while realistically we can expect a drawn out Guerilla war/terrorism between permanently separating societies.

It seems that they're not going to just headcap Voldemort here. Dumbledore seems to be still suffering from the Delusion that this is the just people vs Voldemort's terrorists and those blinded by him. He's probably going to try and delay the conflict so he can slowly take out the Deatheaters. But if the radicalisation of the Muggleborn continues that'll likely fail because they'll force the halfbloods and purebloods to pick sides. Drawing the conflict out will almost certainly only make it escalate. If Dumbledore was smart he'd use his allies to just coup the government and wizengamot for a government of national unity or whatever. Arrest his opponents and install a democracy with strong minority protections. That would pull the carpet out under the violent muggleborn and utterly catch Voldemort and his supporters by surprise. I doubt Tommy could imagine that Dumbledore does something like that.

Click to shrink...

Dumbledore would kill Voldemort in a heartbeat, if he knew where he was. He even said so in the story - He'd have bombed Malfoy Manor himself, if he had heard Voldemort might be there. He isn't delusional anymore - he might even be a bit too cynical now. And if he thought he could pull a coup off, he would do that as well. The problem is, he doesn't have the manpower for that. Not without the muggleborns, at least. But then, should the Death Eaters try a coup, that might provide him with an opportunity as well.

 

[Ack]

Omake, incorporating my 'wards and Claymores' idea:

The twenty Death Eaters slowly drifted down through the night sky. The mudblood they were seeking on this night had long been known to dabble in muggle technology for his own ends. Well, tonight, that was going to be done with. They weren't even sure that he was allied with the Resistance, but that didn't matter.

They landed some little distance away and walked toward the edge of the estate, their brooms shrunken and carried in their pockets. Dorrance, the curse-breaker, made a gesture to halt them when they were halfway across the open ground between the trees and the house. "Wards," he muttered. "Complex ones."

"You can get through them, can't you?" That was Kenley. He had pushed for this mission; that mudblood, pottering around in his garden without a care in the world, as if he were a normal person ...

"Of course I can." Dorrance replied. He waved his wand, and sparks danced before him. "Three layers of wards. It'll take me some time, though."

"Maybe we should just blast our way through." That was young Caphractus. Ever since his father's grisly death at the hands of the Resistance, he had become more and more bloodthirsty.

"No." Dorrance shook his head. "We have to be quiet about this. With wards like this, we'd take a significant time to get through, and the Aurors would be on us before we got in."

"They're all on our side, aren't they?" scoffed Kenley.

Dorrance shook his head again. "No. They may sympathise, but if they see us, they may well attack. We don't need that."

"We'll do it your way," Kenley agreed. "Let's step back and give him room. Spread out around the wards, to be ready to move forward when they go down."

The other Death Eaters obeyed him, leaving Dorrance to his work. The curse-breaker took his time, knowing that the penalty for a misstep would be the alarm going out and a blown mission.

All told, it took him about ten minutes to worm his way into the wards and divine their magical signature. A few words, a twirl of his wand, and the ward fell.

Three seconds later, just as he was about to order everyone forward, he heard a series of muted click-click noises around the perimeter of the estate, inside where the ward had run. He was still trying to divine what it meant when the world erupted in fire and death. Tremendous explosions blasted out from all sides of the estate, shredding wizards before they even had a chance to raise their wands.

Within, the estate still slumbered. No lights came on, no dogs barked. Dorrance stared. Why does he not respond? On an intuition, he muttered a spell and waved his wand. The information came back to him; the wards were enchanted to silence all incoming noise!

Gradually, in ones and twos, the survivors of the muggle defense staggered back around to him. Some were wounded, but they could all walk. Those few of them that had returned, of course. Seven wizards, not counting himself, were left.

"Maybe we should go?" It took a moment to realise that he himself had spoken.

Kenley shook his head. The man had bloodstains on his left shoulder, but stood strong. Caphractus, Dorrance knew, would be standing beside Kenley, if he had survived the first ward falling. "We stay," the Death Eater grated.

"Fine, then stand back out of the way." Dorrance waved at the trees. "I cannot guarantee that there isn't another trap like that."

"What if it kills you?" asked Greenley practically. "We'll have nobody to open the last ward."

"We'll stand in the trees, behind cover," Kenley decided. "Each of us casts Shield on Dorrance. Multiple Shields should protect him from anything."

Dorrance nodded. "I like that idea."

The Death Eaters retired to the trees; soon, Dorrance felt the tingle as a Shield charm established itself around him. Then another, then another. He waited patiently until all the Shields had been cast, then started work on the next ward.

It was a little easier than the first. Perhaps he was learning this wizard's style. Giving his wand a twist, he spoke the command phrase, and the ward dropped.

Nothing happened for a long moment, and then he heard a 'click' ahead of him. Despite himself, he cringed, waiting for exploding death.

And then, behind him, the trees exploded. There was nothing other than that to be said about it. The Shield charms took the blast admirably, but the other wizards ...

There was still a ward on the house as Dorrance pulled out his broom, enlarged it, and mounted it. It can stay there, for all of me.

Silently, he rose into the night sky and flew away.

Behind him, the manor slept in the moonlight, untouched by the night's events.